We creep forward. I test every step as I place my feet, expecting the snow to crumble beneath me at any moment.

“Who the fuck would do that?” he mutters.

“Is Heather off the hook now at least?”

“I don’t know. Her and Brent. There’s something going on.”

A memory pricks me. “In the kitchen last night,” I say reluctantly. “Heather said something and Brent hushed her up, like he didn’t want us to hear.”

His head snaps around. “I missed that. But I’ve caught some looks between them. It sounds crazy, but could they be having an affair? And they wanted to get rid of Dale?”

“No,” I say, not wanting to admit a similar notion crossed my mind yesterday. “What happened ten years ago was a one-off.”

“What’s to say they didn’t continue seeing each other in secret when they got back to England? Or they ran into each other at some point, after she’d gotten married maybe, and hooked up again. Perhaps she was scared of what Dale would do if she left him for Brent. Dale’s a pretty forceful guy.”

Was, I think, but I don’t say it.

“I’m not saying Brent and Heather are responsible for the Icebreaker,” Curtis says. “But they might have seen this situation as a chance for Dale to have an accident.”

“No way. Brent wouldn’t do something like that.”

“So maybe it was Heather’s idea.”

“But setting up a trap like that . . . It’s insane.” And it seems borderline insanity for Curtis to be suggesting it. I remember how he crumbled last night when we smelled his sister’s perfume. He’s fighting to hold it together but he’s under immense strain right now.

Then I remember how Dale threatened me yesterday morning. How quickly he could turn physical. And how Brent was unaccounted for yesterday afternoon around about when Dale disappeared. It is just possible.

“Shit,” Curtis mutters.

“What?”

“They’ve got the axe.”

We continue toward the building.

Curtis lowers his voice as we near it. “If I’m right, we need to pretend we know nothing about this or we put ourselves at risk. And if I’m wrong, they need to know what we just found.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“We need to test Brent.”

“How?”

Curtis looks over at the trap. “Only thing I can think of is we send him walking over there and see what he does. If he knows about it or if he keeps walking.”

“It’s too risky.”

“We have to know.”

I look at him in dismay. I’ve hurt Brent so much already and this is going to hurt him yet again.

Curtis points to the sky. It’s snowing already—tiny fine flakes that you can hardly see against the white backdrop. The clouds have darkened since I last looked. The weather changes so fast up here.