Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Olive rubbed her arms, feigning a shiver. “Which room is mine? I’d like to change into something warmer before we settle in for the night.”
Warren looked up from where he stood near the fire. “Second floor, last one on the right.”
Olive glanced toward Rex. “That okay?”
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Take someone with you.”
She inclined her head. “Jason?”
Jason was already rising to his feet. “Wouldn’t dream of letting you freeze alone.”
After grabbing Olive’s bag, they left the others behind, the murmuring voices fading as they started up the creaking staircase.
The inn felt quieter, heavier now. Every floorboard groaned, every gust of wind against the eaves sounded like a whisper.
Her room contained a pine bed with a thick quilt, a small dresser, and a fogged window overlooking the snow-blown yard.
Olive closed the door and then set her duffle on the bed. She unzipped it and, instead of grabbing a sweatshirt, she pulled out her laptop. She sat on the bed, Jason beside her as they prepared to look at the jump drive.
Her fingers brushed the device in her jean pocket, cold and solid. She hesitated before murmuring, “Let’s do this.”
She slid the drive into the port.
The screen flared to life, bathing the room in pale light. Folders appeared on the desktop. She clicked on the flash drive icon.
OPS
SECURITY
INTEGRATION SPREADSHEET
One at the bottom didn’t fit.
FROSTBITE
“What is that?” Her pulse quickened.
“Let’s find out.”
Olive double-clicked the folder.
Most of the files were encrypted, but one opened:
Project Note—Confidential.
Lines of code scrolled and resolved into text.
> Project Frostbite: Internal Memorandum
> Subject: Classified relocation protocol
> Status: Active. Target secure.
> Location: Restricted (mountain safe house).
Olive’s breath caught.
Target secure? Mountain safe house?
She scrolled further, her heart pounding harder.
> Subject under protective detail until trial. Threat level: critical.
> Maintain secrecy at all costs.
> If compromised, initiate secondary containment.
Her stomach turned. “Containment?”
Jason turned toward her, concern etched across his face. “What do you think that means?”
She tilted the screen toward him. “Project Frostbite—it said ‘mountain safe house.’ It has to be referring to this place.”
Jason leaned closer, eyes scanning the text. “So JJ was running a safe house out of this inn? Maybe he was hiding here—and only Rex knew about it.”
“Rex did tell Tevin that he feared there was a mole here. Maybe JJ was the mole—and maybe that got him killed.”
“Since he’s dead, I guess he can’t tell us.”
“And this target he mentioned?” Olive asked. “Could the target be one of us?”
“If that’s true, then why was JJ killed? It sounds like he was in on it.”
Silence stretched as they contemplated what they’d learned.
Olive tried to scroll again, but the screen flickered—once, twice—and went black.
Her battery was already dead.
Finally, Olive exhaled. “I think there’s one thing we can know for sure: Someone killed JJ to protect this secret. And that secret is still somewhere in this house.”
By the time Olive and Jason returned downstairs, the great room had softened into a fragile calm. The fire glowed steady, shadows flickering across rough-hewn beams. Someone—probably Warren—had added more wood, and the scent of cinnamon and smoke lingered in the air.
Olive had changed into a worn gray sweatshirt, her hair loose, another pair of wool socks pulled over her first pair. The heat from the flames barely touched the chill still coiled inside her.
Everyone had gathered near the hearth, drawn to the illusion of safety the fire offered. Mara moved among them with a tray of the gingerbread bars she’d baked, the icing glistening in the firelight.
“They’re best while they’re warm—but unfortunately, that’s not an option right now.” Mara’s voice sounded gentle, though the tremor in it betrayed how shaken she still was.
Olive accepted a square and murmured her thanks. The flavor was perfect—molasses and spice, comfort wrapped in sweetness. But the treat turned heavy on her tongue.
She couldn’t stop her thoughts from circling back to the same facts: the open window, the missing body, the secret project on that drive.
She thought about asking Rex about Project Frostbite, but another part of her wanted to hold that information close. Her gut would tell her the right time to reveal it.
Across the room, Tevin cleared his throat. “Okay, we need to lighten things up before we all start jumping at our own shadows. So—who’s everyone spending Christmas with this year? What are your plans?”
Olive almost smiled. Leave it to Tevin to reach for normalcy in the middle of chaos.
“I’m heading to Minnesota,” Trick said. “My sister’s got three kids under six. It’s loud, but at least the cookies and milk never run out.”
“Hopefully she has some cold medicine she can give you too . . .” Mitzi murmured.
Olive suppressed a smile as Trick scowled at her. He didn’t bother to argue about it being allergies this time.
“I’m visiting my parents,” Tevin said. “My mom has our whole schedule worked out. We’re going Christmas caroling, decorating cookies, making homemade Christmas ornaments, going to a candlelight service at church.”
Mitzi perked up from her spot by the fire. “I’m going somewhere warm. Caribbean island all-inclusive with a few other single girlfriends. This cast is going to leave me with some amazing tan lines.”
“Going somewhere warm sounds wonderful,” Nova said with a small frown. “I’m going home to New Jersey. However, my family has already started arguing about tree decorations, so . . . I’ll probably escape halfway through and meet up with some cosplay friends for some fun.”
Olive felt Jason’s eyes on her. He gave a small shrug and a hint of a smile.
“We’re heading to Florida,” she finally said. “As you probably all remember, Jason’s dad lives on the Gulf. Sun, sand, and, hopefully, no one trying to kill us.”
A ripple of quiet laughter passed through the room, small but real.
Rex leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable in the firelight. “I’m still finalizing my plans.”
Olive studied him, trying to decide whether that was truth or evasion.
With Rex, it was usually both. What if he was secretly a family man with six kids at home?
Or if he had a supermodel girlfriend he visited in Europe on the weekends?
Or he golfed with the president on his private island during his time off?
They all seemed like possibilities.
For a moment, the room almost felt normal—voices low, laughter cautious, the storm a muffled whisper outside.
Then . . . knock, knock, knock.
The sound cut through the room like a blade. Three slow, deliberate raps against the front door.
Every conversation stopped.
Olive’s heartbeat quickened.
No one moved.
The fire crackled and, outside, the wind howled.
A second set of knocks followed—louder this time.
Jason stood slowly, eyes narrowing toward the entryway. “No one should be out there.”
Olive rose beside him, pulse thudding in her ears. “Then who just found us?”