Deadly Fate by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

been cut in half. So, I will ask you all, bear with me.”
    How the hell could she be so right and this man still be able to make her feel like a plaintive schoolgirl?
    She thanked God for her theatrical training and didn’t react in the least.
    â€œShall I send someone else in?” she asked.
    He nodded at her. “Yes, please.” He looked at her keenly, and she had the odd feeling that he was inwardly shaking his head at her behavior—despite the fact that Jackson Crow had spoken so well for her.
    Well, you’re a jerk! she thought. Tackling me into the snow—twice!
    â€œI will seriously try to help in any way that I can,” she said evenly.
    â€œThere’s always hope,” he said. “Miss Avery, you do realize there’s a key word in what I’m telling you,” Erikson said.
    She remained still.
    â€œIsland,” he said. “Either the killer knows Alaska like the back of his hand, such that he knew how to get here, kill and leave—or he is still here, perhaps among you and your friends.”

3
    A deeper chill settled over Clara. That was it—of course. They were all suspects.
    No, no, no. These men couldn’t possibly believe that she—or Ralph, Simon or Larry!—could have had anything to do with these horrendous murders.
    Jackson would quickly set him straight on that!
    But what about the film crew? She couldn’t believe they had anything to do with the murders. They’d all been too shocked, stunned and horrified when they’d been told that it was not a prank any longer, that people were dead.
    But it was an island. And the only people here were her cast mates and the crew working for the film company.
    And, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Crowley. The caretakers for the estate.
    Had they been interviewed? Clara hadn’t even seen them yet, though she knew that Larry had gone to find them and that they had been at the Alaska Hut.
    But, no. Impossible. She’d met the couple. They were in their late sixties or early seventies. Mrs. Crowley was an attractive, slim, gray-haired woman who was, admittedly, a little odd. She was coldly—but perfectly—courteous while making sure people, even Natalie Fontaine, understood that even though she was there to oversee and facilitate, they needed to help themselves and be self-sufficient if they needed something.
    Mr. Crowley matched his wife; he was still fit as a fiddle.
    And strong.
    Strong enough to wield whatever weapon it took to cut a woman in half?
    No, Mr. Crowley was a little weird, but to her, at least, he had been as nice and cheerful as a department-store Santa.
    She shook her head and let out a long breath.
    Maybe she could be helpful—state some simple facts.
    â€œIt is an island, Agent. It’s also heavily forested and has a ragged coastline with caves beneath ice and snow. It has little peaks and valleys. I believe there are survival caches left in various places around the island. Someone could be hiding out in the trees. Someone in a small boat could make it from the mainland in about fifteen minutes—that’s about how long it took to get here when the captain the company hired brought me out. He left me at the dock, but there are a lot of shallows and little beachy areas around the southern and western sides. A person—or persons—could easily come and go from a zillion little hidden coves.”
    â€œYes,” he acknowledged. “Someone could be hiding. But we have had the state police out looking and they’ll continue to look. The thing is...”
    He paused and glanced toward Jackson.
    â€œThe thing is it might well be someone sitting among you like your best friend,” Jackson Crow told her. “So, be careful.”
    â€œExactly,” Thor Erikson said quickly.
    â€œJackson,” she said, “you know Ralph, Simon and Larry!”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI trust them with my life!” she said.
    â€œThank you