She’d been about to say more important than solving the case. Adele was sure of it. She gave a weary little shake of her head. “Just law enforcement. It’s fine.” Frowning, she stowed the glass and turned back toward Agent Marshall. “Anything I should know about the context of the case?”
Looking relieved, Marshall smiled politely but quizzically from the door. “Context?”
Adele nodded. “Right—everyone seems to have a bit of a bug on this one. Mind telling me why?”
Agent Marshall gnawed her lip, and Adele’s eyes narrowed. The younger agent gave off the “innocent and inexperienced” vibe, but one didn’t become a BKA agent without a level of shrewdness and discipline. Whether it was an act, or simply a personality trait, she couldn’t tell, but she’d be silly to let her guard down around an operative from another agency.
“Okay,” said Marshall, clearing her throat. “This isn’t common knowledge, but one reason the locals are intent on having this a bear attack is to keep eyeballs off the papers. A bear attack? Forgettable. Two missing couples, though? Possibly murdered—less so.”
Adele kept her gaze fixed on Marshall, unblinking. “Why?” she said, simply.
“I don’t know the extent of it myself. But from what I’m told, I suppose you might need to know.” This time it was Marshall’s turn to lower her voice and glance over her shoulder. She stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her as she did. “There’s another resort—in the Wettersteinspitzen region. The resort is called Wetter Retreat.”
“So?”
“So,” she replied, extending the word past its usual due. “The resort is opening tomorrow. Understand?”
Adele blinked. “A resort like this?” She glanced toward the window again, at the many buildings surrounding the main hotel.
“Actually, even bigger. And more expensive,” said Marshall. “We’re talking hundreds of millions invested, see. And if it were to get out before the opening that a murder took place on their back porch… you can imagine the press and the economic disaster, yes? Thousands of jobs, tourism, infrastructure. Lost.” She shook her head.
Adele stared at Marshall. She felt a cold chill along the back of her hands as she eyed the younger agent. Was Marshall there to help solve the case? Or to prevent Adele from stirring up trouble?
She whistled beneath her breath. “Multimillion-dollar project opening tomorrow… Let me guess, all sorts of politicians and celebrities etc.… The whole nine yards?”
“I’m not familiar with the nine yards,” said Marshall. “But yes, there are going to be important people there. Understand? We have to be quiet on this one.”
Understand? Yes, Adele thought to herself. She was beginning to understand all too well. They didn’t want Adele to solve the case, they wanted her to brush it under the rug; to keep a lid on things. Or to solve it quietly, behind the scenes.
“Fair enough,” said Adele in a clipped tone. “Can we at least speak to search and rescue? See the crime scene? I heard it was in the woods—figure that ought to be remote enough to not raise any eyebrows.”
Marshall smiled, though it seemed half wince. “Yes, of course. I’ll place the call for the team leader to meet us there. Do you need refreshments? Food? I could order a—”
“I’m fine,” Adele cut her off. “I’d like to see the crime scene. Do you have a car?”
Agent Beatrice Marshall nodded again and, without word, turned, pushing open the hotel room door and exiting into the hall, beckoning for Adele to follow.
CHAPTER SIX
Adele remembered why she chose San Francisco stateside. Some people simply weren’t built for the cold.
She pulled her hood low past her ears and tugged on the drawstrings of the thick, flannel jacket to further secure her throat. She winced against the faintest of frigid breezes, and resented the quiet crunch of the snow beneath her boots. The trail had been packed down not long before, and Adele was grateful for this. Despite her boots, she suspected trudging through the snow for the two miles it took from where they’d parked would have been an endeavor in misery and frostbite.
Ahead, Luka Porter—the leader of the volunteer mountain rescue team—guided the two agents along the snowy ski trails.
“A fresh fall,” he called over his shoulder in German, waving a gloved hand through the air in front.
“I see ski tracks; are they fresh?” Adele called out. She cleared her throat, swallowing a couple of times and finding not only her lips chapped but her throat dry.
She missed the Golden State. Grumbling inwardly, but refusing to communicate weakness to her German colleagues, Adele followed Luka into a grove of trees at the end of the packed trail.
He waved a hand toward the grove. “Found them here,” he said, quietly. A somberness tinged his words. “Ripped to pieces—real nasty work. Lotta blood,” he added. “Probably alive for a good part of the mauling.” He winced, his face pale.
Adele nodded, scanning the trees. Besides faint ski tracks, which she guessed were from search and rescue crew, there was little in the manner of physical evidence. No footprints had been found according to the report, and the bodies had long since been recovered—at least, what had remained.
“What’s your theory?” she asked, breathing slowly and allowing her fogged breath to usher toward the prickly tree leaves sheltering the ground in scattered patterns from view of the sun.
Luka scratched at an ear beneath his thermal hat. “Brown bear, most likely,” he said, knowingly. “They were gone from the Alps for decades, but a couple years ago, some sightings occurred. We’re only”—he glanced over his shoulder and then down at a smart watch on his wrist—“about two miles from the resort they were staying at.”
“The same one you’re at,” Agent Marshall supplied quietly from Adele’s flank.
Adele nodded to show she’d heard, but maintained her silence, allowing Luka to fill it.
“Didn’t see bear tracks,” he added. “But the snow disguised most of that.” He shrugged. “Pity, really—not quite sure what the pair of them were doing out in this grove. My guess; Mr. and Mrs. Beneveti were on a cross-country ski trip, and the bear spotted them—gave chase. They deviated from the main trail and tried to hide in the trees.” He shook his head. “Didn’t end well.”
“No,” said Adele. “Guess it didn’t. So you think it was a bear?”
Luka paused, frowning as he turned fully and regarded her. “You’re saying it wasn’t?”
Agent Marshall cleared her throat and hastily inserted herself between Adele and Luka. She rubbed her gloved hands together and puffed a breath into them as if to warm them. “We can’t discuss the details of the investigation, I’m afraid,” she said. “Is there anything else you found? You saw?”
Luka’s eyes squinted in thought, but then he said, “No—nothing. Though I hear those folks are rich, powerful types. Pity this happening to them. Just goes to show money can’t buy everything, I guess.”
“Thank you,” Adele said in a polite tone. Then she moved through the crime scene, slowly, delicately, her eyes higher than the ground. The snow-covered floor provided little in the way of physical evidence. The crime scene photos she’d studied on the plane were far closer to the timeframe of the attack, with less fresh fall. But the trees… the trees were still exposed, visible.