Page 27 of Chill Factor

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“When was it last filled?”

“As far as I know, last winter. Because I was selling the place, I didn’t order it to be refilled this past fall. To my knowledge Dutch didn’t either.”

“So it could run out.”

“I suppose. Depending on how much Dutch used it when I wasn’t here.”

“How long since you were here?”

“Until this week, it had been months.”

“Did you stay up here this week?”

“Yes.”

“Did Dutch?”

Suddenly the emphasis of their conversation had shifted away from the amount of propane remaining in the tank.

“That’s an inappropriate question, Tierney.”

“Meaning he did.”

“In fact he didn’t,” she said testily.

He held her gaze for several beats, then turned away and walked to the thermostat on the wall. “I’m going to set the temperature lower so the propane will last longer. Okay?”

“Fine.”

“If the tank empties, we’ll have to rely strictly on the fireplace. I hope you’ve got more wood than what’s on the porch.”

She disliked his implication that she was still sleeping with her ex-husband, but cooped up together as they were, there was no room for anger. She let the matter drop. “More firewood is stored in a shed,” she replied, motioning in the general direction. “There’s a path to it through—”

“I know where it is.”

“The shed? You do?” The small structure had been built of weathered wood and positioned so it wouldn’t be visible from either the road or the cabin. It blended seamlessly into the environment and was virtually invisible. Or so she had thought.

“How did you know about this cabin, Tierney?”

“You told me about it last summer.”

She remembered specifically what she had told him because, since then, she’d replayed their conversations in her head a thousand times. “I told you I had a cabin in the area. I didn’t say where it was.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“So, tonight, how did you know?”

He gave her a long look, then said, “I’ve hiked all over this mountain. One day I came upon the cabin, and the shed, without realizing I was on private property. I suppose I was trespassing, but not on purpose. I saw the For Sale sign and, because I liked the look of the place, contacted the realtor. I learned that it belonged to you and your husband, but because of a pending divorce, you were selling.” He raised his arms at his sides. “That’s how I came to know the location of your cabin.”

He gave her a look that practically dared her to question him further. Then he said, “Now, how much wood is in the shed? A cord?”

Although she wasn’t quite ready to relinquish the matter of his knowing so much about her, she didn’t see any advantage to pursuing it and creating ill will. “No way near a cord,” she replied.

“Well, hopefully we’ll be rescued before we have to start breaking up the furniture and burning it.”

“How long do you think that might be? Until we’re rescued, I mean.”

He sat down on the sofa, where a towel now covered the bloodstain on the back cushion, and laid his head against it. “Probably not tomorrow. Possibly the day after. Depending on the storm and the amount of ice accumulation, it could be longer.”


Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery