Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #3: Books 9-12 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (best books to read ever txt) 📖
- Author: Blake Banner
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“So, in the time it took you to go into the kitchen and… do what?”
“Check the door.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing.”
“Paul came out of his room, slid back the two deadbolts without making a noise, opened the door, clambered over the terrace, and shimmied down to the clearing, while also somehow alerting Don and Jasmine, the colonel, and Stuart and May.”
“It is not physically possible. It can’t be done.”
“And when we get here there is no sign of him. So how did they know? How did they know to come out of their rooms?”
“We have been played,” I said. “We have been played, Dehan. We have been played good.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“Paul never left his room.”
“Shit! We need to get back!”
“No, he won’t be there.”
“Where, then?”
I stared at her for a long moment, then I stared up at the few, distant, icy stars I could make out through the glow of the moon. “I have a feeling I know,” I said. “But you may find it hard to believe. Come with me…”
And I turned and headed up the path, winding like a narrow tunnel ever deeper into the impenetrable shadows of the forest.
Twenty-one
We returned to the cabin about half an hour later, by way of the trunk of the Jag, from which I collected my laptop. We found them all seated about the fireplace drinking hot cocoa laced with whiskey. Stuart opened the door to us and let us in.
“Did you find anything?”
I shook my head and went to stand in front of the fire. Jasmine got to her feet and took hold of Dehan’s hands. “May I make you and Detective Stone some hot drink? Everybody’s having some. It is very comforting. This has all been such a shock.”
Dehan smiled. “Thank you, that would be great. Stone?” I glanced at her and nodded. Jasmine disappeared into the kitchen and I turned to look at Don. He was staring into the flames. He looked exhausted, wrecked. I examined May and Stuart, and the colonel. They all looked like Don, drawn, scared, depressed. There was nothing remarkable about any of them.
Don said suddenly, “I believe he will be returned to us. I believe that. This was not like Danny. Not like Danny! He didn’t disobey. He was not mutilated, incinerated...”
Stuart nodded. “I agree with you. It was just the singeing from the beam on the grass. He was clearly simply beamed aboard to receive whatever instruction he needs for the mission he has ahead of him…”
I stared at him for a moment, frowning.
Dehan shook her head in a gesture of disbelief, and for a moment I thought I could see her father in her, as she had described him to me. She was half smiling, half exasperated. “Clearly? Seriously? That is clearly what happened? Would you mind telling me exactly what evidence you have that makes that clear to you? Because, I have to tell you, I didn’t find a shred out there. All I found was a circle of burnt grass.”
Stuart sighed and groaned and rolled his eyes. “Detective! What is it going to take for you to open your eyes and see what is going on here? You cannot take an isolated incident on its own. It is cumulative! Everything is connected!”
She nodded and offered him a lopsided smile on the left side of her face, where it was more sarcastic than ironic. “Oh, sure! Cumulative. Like the cumulative evidence that proves the sun orbits around the Earth.” She pointed at him. “Is that what you think you have done? Opened your eyes? This, what you all are doing right here, this is an act of faith! Worse! It’s superstition! You, under the guidance of a man who claims to be a scientist, are constructing an entire belief system on an unfounded assumption! You have not got a single piece of objective proof! Not one! Nothing! You’re saying, ‘We don’t know how Danny was killed, therefore he must have been killed by aliens.’ And after that, everything and anything that you can’t explain gets explained the same way. Now, you even know that they operate training programs for their missions. Based on what? On a patch of burned grass!”
I watched at her and felt a warm glow of admiration.
May shook her head and muttered, “You couldn’t begin to understand.”
The kitchen door opened and Jasmine came out with two mugs of cocoa. She took them to the sideboard and smiled at Dehan. “Cognac or whiskey, Detective?”
I watched Dehan turn, and for a moment she seemed to move in slow motion. She reached behind her head and took hold of her long, black hair, tied it in a knot as she spoke, and as she did so, my mind raced and I understood everything. The whole thing became suddenly crystal clear. I seemed to snap out of a dream and heard Dehan say, “Whiskey, please, Jasmine.”
I watched Jasmine lace them generously and hand them to us, first to me, without making eye-contact, and then to Dehan, with another smile. After that, she left us and went to clear the table. Dehan raised the mug to sip from it. I pointed at the mug and said, “Be careful, you might burn your lips.”
She stared at me with the mug half-way to her mouth and a slightly incredulous smile. “What are you now, my mother?”
“Do me a favor, would you, Dehan? Just go up and have a look at Paul’s room. See if he packed a bag. See if his pajamas are there, or
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