Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Olive’s breath caught.
A man lay crumpled at the base of the shed steps, one arm extended as if he’d been reaching for the doorknob but couldn’t quite make it.
Snow had begun to cover him, a dusting of white across a navy parka and knit cap.
The only spot of real color was his face—too pale against the dark of his hair, lips tinged an unnatural blue.
Her knees hit the snow as she knelt beside him.
Young. Early twenties, at most.
The freckles across his nose struck her first. Then the angle of his jaw, the little scar on his chin, and . . . the Aegis-issued tactical watch on his wrist.
Realization stole the breath from her lungs.
No . . .
It couldn’t be.
But it was.
JJ Price.
Jason crouched on the other side of the body, muttering his sorrows beneath his breath.
“JJ.” She reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder. The fabric was stiff with cold. “JJ, can you hear me?”
He didn’t move.
Olive leaned closer, searching for the rise and fall of his chest.
Nothing.
She pressed two fingers to the side of his neck, praying she’d find a pulse.
Nothing. No steady thump of life.
Only stillness.
Her throat tightened. “He’s cold.”
“Cold doesn’t always mean—”
“Not surface cold,” she said, voice low. “Deep cold, if you know what I mean.”
Understanding filled Jason’s eyes. Dead cold.
Her gaze swept JJ’s body. There were no obvious gunshot or stab wounds, no pools of blood staining the snow. The parka’s zipper was halfway undone, the knit cap crooked on his head—almost as if he’d just run out to grab something and then . . .
Her throat tightened with grief. She didn’t want to finish the thought.
“How long do you think he’s been out here?” Jason asked, snowflakes catching on his eyelashes as he studied JJ’s lifeless body.
Olive did a quick mental calculation. Temperature, wind, snowfall thickness over the tracks. “Less than an hour.”
Long enough to die alone in the snow.
Though she hadn’t known JJ that well, her heart panged with sadness.
The wind howled around the corner of the shed, the sharp sound a warning of more treacherous weather to come.
Olive pulled in a breath so cold it made her lungs ache. “We should get him inside.”
Jason’s gaze slid to her. “He’s already gone. Getting him inside won’t save him.”
“I know.” She swallowed, her throat raw. “But leaving him out here feels wrong.”
It wasn’t just the storm—it was the thought of JJ lying alone in the cold while they sheltered by the fire.
“Moving him could destroy evidence,” Jason reminded her.
“But leaving him could also destroy evidence. The snow, wildlife—they’re all working against us.”
“You’re right,” Jason said. “His body will be covered by snow within another hour or two. I’ll document the scene first. Then we’ll bring him inside.”
Using his camera phone, he began snapping pictures.
Olive stood and shivered, the wind going through her coat.
How had this happened to JJ? She didn’t know, but she would get to the bottom of this.
So much for their relaxing week.
After the scene was documented, Olive and Jason worked JJ’s stiff body out of the snow. His limbs didn’t move naturally, and the weight of him was awkward.
As Jason hoisted the younger man over his shoulder, Olive gathered JJ’s knitted hat that had tumbled into the snow beside him.
As she did, something glinted near where his hand had been.
“Wait.” She brushed away the thin layer of snow.
A metal object lay half-buried there, pressed into the frozen ground. A small rectangle, silver, no bigger than a stick of gum.
Smooth, no markings. Not a key. Not a lighter.
A flash drive.
Jason adjusted JJ’s weight. “What is it?”
She picked it up carefully, holding it with the tips of her fingers. “Possibly evidence.”
Her skin prickled. Had JJ been clutching this when he died? Had he been trying to open the shed before his demise? Perhaps trying to hide the jump drive—or maybe even retrieve it?
And if his death wasn’t an accident—if it was murder—why hadn’t the killer taken it?
The questions collided in her mind.
Olive slipped the drive into the back pocket of her jeans. Questions could wait until they weren’t standing in a snowstorm with a dead body.
They trudged back toward the inn.
The snow had deepened in just the few minutes they’d been outside. Olive’s boots broke through the crust with each step. Her breaths came in visible puffs, matching the rhythm of Jason’s as he carried JJ.
From this angle, the inn looked even more like a postcard—warm light glowing in the windows, smoke curling from the chimney, giant wreaths adorning the doors, and strings of white Christmas lights outlining the roof. Like Tevin had said—a Hallmark movie setting.
But the weight of the body over Jason’s shoulder told a different story.
Olive tried to piece together possibilities as they climbed the front steps.
Hypothermia? Accident? Had JJ slipped on the ice and hit his head? Maybe no one had known he’d gone outside.
Except . . .
She glanced back over her shoulder at the trail they’d left. Based on the other footprints she’d seen, someone had been out here with JJ.
Her pulse pounded harder.
JJ’s death was no accident.
Jason pushed the front door open and stepped inside.
A wall of heat and the scent of woodsmoke hit them. Then she heard voices.
Tevin stood near the entryway talking to Mitzi and Nova.
Mitzi McGraw, Aegis senior agent. In her early thirties, the former CIA operative was beautiful, blonde, and bodacious.
Her appearance and extroverted personality made men flock to her, and she was often assigned to cases where “female wiles” were required.
The hard cast on her left arm looked out of place for the seemingly invincible woman.
Nova Levington, another of Aegis’s tech geniuses, was petite and curvy, with a small waist. Her dark hair was cut into a wedge, complete with purple streaks touching the edges, and she wore bright-blue glasses.
Instantly, everyone’s gazes went to JJ, and their eyes widened.
“Please tell me that is not what it looks like . . .” Tevin murmured, his hands going to his hips.
“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Olive closed the door behind them to ward off the cold. “We found JJ near the shed. He’s been out there awhile.”
Mitzi stepped aside, gesturing toward the wide space beyond. “Put him down here.”
As Jason carried JJ across the inn’s polished floor toward an area rug, Olive shrugged out of her gloves and coat, her pulse still thudding in her ears.
This retreat had just become an investigation. She’d tried to convince herself this could be an accident. But she knew it wasn’t.
People didn’t just wander off and die in the snow for no reason.
Someone at this mountain inn had answers.
And she intended to find out who.