Curtis glances at the door and lowers his voice. “Someone’s stepped in and taken over.”

“Someone at the resort?” As I say it, I realize the problem with this idea. The Icebreaker. Whoever wrote the secrets was no stranger. But how . . . ?

“Think about it,” Curtis says. “This is a poor area; no industry and most of the work is seasonal. The director was away. Can’t be many staff on the books this time of year. Easy enough to bribe one of them. I don’t reckon you’d even have to pay that much. As far as they know, we’re only up here for the weekend, so it wouldn’t be that big a deal to turn off the cable cars and play a few mind games.”

The expression jolts me. Why did he have to say that?

Wanting to believe him, I study his face. “Leaving people stranded up here? They’d lose their job.”

“If it’s a contract worker they haven’t got much to lose. Maybe the deal was we’d phone when we want a ride back down or we’d make our own way down, who knows.” He frowns. “This thing has my sister written all over it.”

The pain in his eyes seems genuine. “But why would she do this?” I’m cringing a little as I ask that, because I know at least one reason why.

“I’m not sure.” He stares into the shadows for a moment before his gaze returns to mine. “Anyway, I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know where to look. If nothing else, he lied to me about the invites.

But at least he finally told me. He has more guts than I do. In a way, I can understand his actions—his family always meant so much to him—and even why he suspects me. He’s witnessed me at my ugliest and he’s right that he doesn’t know the full story of Saskia’s last hours.

“Why tell me now?” I say.

“I was waiting until I knew for sure.”

“That I didn’t kill her?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know now? Well, that’s something.”

He doesn’t answer.

I stare at him. “You still suspect me. Yet you kiss me like that?”

He shrugs, sadness in his eyes. “I like you, Milla. I always did. Some of the stuff she did to you . . . I thought about it a lot over the years and figured if it was you who . . . hurt her, it was probably either an accident or self-defense. And if it was, I could live with that.”

He searches my face. Now would be the time for me to come clean. But there’s a knock on the door.

Curtis swears.

“Better get it,” I say.

He scrambles off the bed and opens the door a crack.

“I heard a noise.”

Crap. That’s Brent’s voice.

“And Milla’s not answering her door.”