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“Not in person, no. But I’ve talked to him, and so have you.”

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re getting at. Spit it out, before they send a search party after us.”

“Don’t you get it? Steven is Cliff. He’s the troll who’s been tormenting you for months.”

~ Chapter Twelve ~

There was no point asking if Andrew was sure. The man had phenomenal recall when it came to names, faces, and voices. Steven was lucky her producer hadn’t found him out earlier.

The question was, what did they do about it? If he really was related to Lyudmila, he had a vested interest, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d want to sabotage the trip. The opposite might be true. He had swallowed Vasily’s yeti stories a bit too quickly, though, even if he had seen a cryptid in California. She’d expected more skepticism, especially from him.

Should she confront him? Andrew had argued against it, saying as long as they kept Cliff/Steven in the dark, they had the power. But it wouldn’t be easy to hide her anger. If it hadn’t been for the guy’s constant baiting and heckling, she never would have gone forward with this trip. Okay, her stupid ego had had a bit to do with it too. Now two people were dead and a third had deserted them. It was all she could do to refrain from clawing his pretty blue eyes out. Let’s see how alarmingly intense his gaze was without them.

“The food’s almost ready. Is Andrew coming?” Steven smiled at her, completely guileless. He had no idea they knew. No clue what was coming. And there was something rather satisfying about that.

“He’s not feeling up to it. I told him I’d bring him something later.” In reality, Andrew didn’t feel he could look Steven in the eye just yet.

“That’s not good. Is he going to be able to ski today?” Steven’s forehead creased in concern, and Nat wondered how much he actually cared. After all, he’d wanted to abandon Andrew from the beginning. Maybe he’d been afraid the producer would eventually figure him out.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t ask him yet. But Igor, you’re still okay to help, right?” After the bombshell Andrew had dropped, leaving had been the last thing on her mind. She hadn’t even thought to ask him how he was feeling. Shit.

“Yah, I’ll carry him to Vizhai if I have to. We need to leave today,” the Russian said.

Nat waited for Steven to argue, to talk about the importance of everyone getting down the mountain under their own steam, but he didn’t say a word. Perhaps he was finally learning.

“It’s a shame we’re leaving without being any closer to solving the Dyatlov mystery, though. I was really hoping we’d find out what happened to Lyudmila especially.” She watched Steven out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he’d take the bait. She didn’t have to wonder long.

“Why Lyudmila?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ve always felt the sorriest for her. She was one of the youngest, and the most horribly injured. I’d hoped, at the very least, to be able to give her family some sort of closure. But I guess that ship has sailed.”

“What are you talking about? Vasily’s story confirms what happened to them.”

Nat snorted, deciding to lay it on just thick enough to bait him. “That ridiculous yeti theory?” She was glad the Mansi hadn’t returned from his business yet. She’d be much more reluctant to disparage his account with him sitting right there. “I’m not buying it.”

“You saw Anubha and Joe. They didn’t die of natural causes. How else do you explain what happened to them?”

“I actually didn’t see them. Not close up. But the fact they’re dead doesn’t mean yetis killed them. Occam’s razor, right? The simplest explanation is usually the truth.”

Steven leaned back on his heels and stared at her, breakfast temporarily forgotten. “What are you saying? Who else could have possibly done it? No one is here but us.”

“We don’t know that for sure. There could be someone else here. If the government murdered the Dyatlov group for seeing something they shouldn’t, maybe whatever it was is still here. The military could have continued to monitor it. But I agree it’s unlikely.”

The mountaineer’s face darkened. “I repeat—what are you saying?”

“When Anubha and Joe disappeared, only you, Lana, and Vasily had the opportunity. Me, Igor, and Andrew were too far away, not to mention Andrew was in no condition to walk, let alone harm anyone. So, the killer had to have been one of you.” Nat prayed he would give her some reason it couldn’t be true, some indisputable proof of his innocence. As unlikeable as he had been, she couldn’t see Steven as a murderer.

Then again, people had thought Ted Bundy was a real nice guy too.

“You can’t seriously believe one of us was responsible. Or even capable of slaughtering them like that.”

Forcing aside the horrific image of Anubha’s face, Nat folded her arms across her chest. “I find that a lot more believable than some farfetched story about a tribe of yetis.”

To her surprise, Igor spoke up. “Yah, Steven. The yeti story, it’s a bit crazy, no?”

“You think it’s more plausible that I killed them? For starters, Joe would have ripped me apart. For another, I don’t have a motive. They were the only people capable of getting us food that doesn’t come in a packet. If I were going to kill anyone, it would be someone useless. Someone like—”

Nat’s jaw tightened. “Don’t say it. If you thought Joe could tear you apart, you don’t even want to think what you were about to say.”

Before the mountaineer could respond, someone called his name. Screamed it.

“Steven, Steven! You must come. Please help.”

Vasily ran toward them, repeatedly losing his footing in the deep snow. His breathing ragged, the Mansi stumbled into Steven’s arms, tears running down his cheeks. “You must help. Please.”

All evidence of his anger gone, the mountaineer steadied the older man and spoke to him almost tenderly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It is the fair-haired one. She is… it is not good.” His face set in lines of desperation and grief, Vasily turned to Igor and spoke rapidly, his words tumbling over each other as if in a frantic rush to escape.

Igor shook his head, lifting his hands palms up. “I’m sorry. I do not understand.”

The nagging feeling something was terribly wrong returned, if it had ever really gone away. “Is he talking about Lana? But Lana left for the other site, didn’t she?” Fear and helplessness became rage as Nat stared at the guide, who babbled away in a language none of them understood. Could one even call him a guide? He’d been next to useless so far. He certainly hadn’t protected them. “What did you do to her? Answer me.”

She would have shaken the truth out of him if Steven hadn’t stepped between them. “Oh, so now Vasily is guilty too? You’d better get your villains straight.”

“I know who my villain is… Cliff.”

Fuck. She hadn’t meant for the name to slip out in the heat of the moment, but she’d felt too furious, too betrayed, to keep her big mouth shut. So much for retaining the power. Sorry, Andrew. She always had been lousy at keeping secrets. Didn’t her producer know better than to entrust her with something like this?

Steven’s face contorted as though he were in pain. “We can talk about this later.”

“Why did she call you Cliff? I don’t understand.” Poor Igor. Between Vasily’s dialect and this new drama, he looked beyond confused.