GAME ON - GoM 2

7

Alex parked the Hilux on the shoulder of the road by the lake, right behind the wooden welcome sign. They grabbed their weapons and walked down the steep slope into the woods, toward the lake, up to a dirt track that led straight to the house on the cliffs. Even before they saw the house, Claire stopped, taking a hand to her chest. Alex and Harry turned to her and waited, observing her. On their way there, they' d told Harry about Claire's empathy. The hunter accepted their words without question and added it to the list of extraordinary things he kept finding since he'd gotten to Bold Peak.

The girl breathed deep several times before she was able to speak.

"Not as bad as Blake, but not nice at all," she said. "There's a lot of people at Markus' place, but I only sense three nasty, cruel, vicious things. Well, and Markus." She looked up at Alex, hesitating.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I... George's there, too, Al. He's having a hell of a time with... I'm sorry."

Alex stiffened, scowling in disbelief. "You sure?" she whispered, even knowing the answer.

Claire grimaced.

Alex spun around and grasped her shotgun with both hands. "Let's go," she snarled.

It was sort of natural that George was there, she thought as they moved under the trees to stay out of sight from the house. Natural, she repeated to herself. After all, Markus was his best friend. But knowing what she knew now, she couldn't help wondering. The drastic change George had suffered over the winter, his being so rude to her and all. Was it just out of his broken heart? Or was he in with Markus? The doubt made her belly squirm. It was already hard to stomach that Markus turned out to be some satanic assassin, cruel enough to murder ruthlessly a woman who loved him and throw a party not a week later. Markus, who'd been to her own home a hundred times, and shared with her a thousand good times. Okay, Markus wasn't her friend as she'd thought. But George...? Her George?

She was so lost in thought that Harry had to grab her arm to stop her when they reached the last trees. The front yard opened before them. Half a dozen vehicles were parked there-George's car among them. They could hear loud music from inside the house, and even voices. Harry stood by Alex, studying the place.

"D'you know where he'd keep something so valuable? And how we can take a look inside, other than knocking on the door?"

"I don't know," she replied. "His bedroom or his office, I guess. His room's upstairs, but his office is at the back of the house. Maybe we can peer in through the window."

She recalled the few times she'd come with George, back when he was restoring the place for his friend. There was a narrow passage way left between the house and the rock wall climbing straight up to the road. The Palmers had dynamited the cliff about a century ago, to create the gap to build their home. She led Claire and Harry among the vehicles to the passage way, and they sneaked in the shadow of the cliff to the other side of the house. They stopped at the corner. From there, they could see the broad backyard and the woods spreading south across it.

"There's where he killed Alice," Alex said. "We should check those woods some other day. Maybe we can find her body, or whatever's left of it. She deserves a decent grave."

"Yeah. That'd appease her ghost."

"Maybe." Alex shook her head and snorted. "Son of a bitch! How could he do that to her?"