Poor Brent doesn’t know where to look. She scoops up her silver corset and knickers and puts them on, making a show of it. I catch Brent watching, despite himself, and I don’t blame him. She really is stunning. Not model thin—slimmer than me, certainly, but toned and strong with it. Her skin is smooth and tanned. The tan must have come from a tube; my arms and legs haven’t seen the sun for months.

Brent forces his gaze to me. In a strained voice, he says, “We were going to ride up together?”

He’s looking at me as though I’m a total stranger.

CHAPTER 51

PRESENT DAY

The room glows amber in the light of Curtis’s flashlight. There’s a long desk down the center, with half a dozen monitors down either side.

“The control room,” Curtis says.

There’s that smell again. Perfume. I look at Curtis and see him notice it, too. He goes pale and grips the wall for support.

At the far end of the room is a mattress. With a pillow and a couple of duvets. My heart starts beating faster. Someone’s been sleeping here. But who? I glance at the doorway and Brent must be thinking the same thing because he checks either way down the corridor. He may be drunk, but he’s holding up well.

Curtis stares at the mattress with haunted eyes.

I turn to Heather. “How did you find this room?”

“I told you, I heard a noise.” She chokes back another sob. “I thought it might be Dale, so I went to look.”

“And this door was open? Like, wide open?”

She nods.

“When did you take the axe?”

“This afternoon while you lot went to the lift shack. I was scared.” Her eyes flit to mine and I sense she means scared of Curtis. “I decided I’d put it in my room in case I needed it.”

“Did you take the knives, too?” Curtis says.

“What knives?” Heather says.

Curtis and I exchange looks. So the knives are still out there somewhere.

My knee doesn’t like my bending it. Carefully I reach down to press my palm to the mattress. “It’s cold.” That’s a relief.

“Maybe staff sleep here sometimes,” Brent says.

I don’t know if he’s trying to convince us or himself. It’s true that resort staff might occasionally have to stay up here—the Mountain Rescue guys, for example. This mattress alone doesn’t prove Saskia or anyone else is currently in the building.

“But who unlocked the door?” I say. Because someone clearly did, and if it wasn’t Saskia or a stranger, it was one of us. Dale, even.