Extract
Benjamin Duff gripped the steering wheel with both hands and tried to turn into the skid. It was too late. Pelting sleet and freezing rain had turned the southern Ontario back road into a treacherous mess of slush and ice. The storm had picked up quickly. He’d been just a fraction of a second too late in catching the change of traction from paved road to country lane.
Now his pickup truck was spinning.
Benjamin held on tight as the world flew past the windshield in a blur of gray and white.
Trees. Snow. Sky.
Lord, please keep us safe.
The truck gave a final rotation and came to a stop.
He looked out. Branches, heavy with snow, buffeted against the driver’s-side door. The truck was now pointed back the way he’d come, but he’d somehow managed to stay out of the roadside ditch. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel and let out a long breath. “Thank You, God.”
The hospital room where he’d spent so many months in traction as a teenager flashed through his mind. It would be sixteen years this February since a terrible snowmobile accident had taken a friend’s life and left fifteen-year-old Benjamin with a body so broken that doctors didn’t know at first if he’d ever walk again. Since then, he’d built a successful business as an extreme sports instructor and even used the lingering notoriety as a platform to teach thousands of young people about outdoor safety and living life to the fullest.
Now his business was successfully sold. He was just three days away from catching a Christmas night flight to Australia, to pick up the boat he’d saved his entire life for. First he’d embark on a year long sailing voyage for charity. Then he’d use his new boat to start his own Pacific charter service.
Life on the open waters meant that finally he’d be living somewhere he could escape the long shadow the accident had cast over his life.
Yet here, in an instant, he’d been reminded of just how easily everything could be taken away again.
Not that that he’d ever forgotten.
A soft whimper came from the passenger seat.
“I’m sorry, Harry.” Benjamin slid one hand into the dog’s thick fur. He scratched the young black-and-white husky on the back of the neck, just where the seat belt clipped into his safety harness. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there. Piper’s bed-and-breakfast is only a few minutes away.”
I hope.
He eased the truck back onto the road and kept driving. He’d met Piper Lawrence during the summer, when the spunky brunette had walked into his sports shop. Truth be told, they’d barely kept in touch since then and he didn’t know her all that well. But he knew she had a bed-and-breakfast, on a huge property on the edge of Lake Erie. While Harry was a pretty good dog he sure wasn’t suited for life on a sailboat, so he’d asked Piper if she’d be interested in giving him a new permanent home. She’d said yes.
But the weather forecast was pretty much as bad as the holidays could be. His deep blue eyes glanced at the console clock. It was quarter to four. It was a seven-hour drive from here back to his sister’s place on Manitoulin Island, the home he had shared with her. At this rate, he’d be driving well into the night.
“See, dog, Meg and Jack are getting married on Christmas Eve, which is the day after tomorrow.” Maybe talking out loud would calm both the husky and himself. “Sounds like your Christmas will be exciting, too. Our friend Piper is hosting a huge Christmas Eve thing.”
Our friend Piper. He scratched his trim brown beard. Why did it feel weird to call Piper Lawrence a “friend”? But he couldn’t think of a better term to call her. The second to last week of August, he’d just looked up over the counter one day and saw Piper there in the doorway. A mess of tumbling dark hair, plaid shirt worn over jean shorts, sparkling eyes behind huge, round glasses. The dog had charged her instantly, tail wagging. Puppy love at first sight.
She’d had just four days on the island and only been there to escort her aunt. But there’d been this glint in her eyes that told him she could use an adventure. So, he’d done his best to find her one. Together they’d gone hiking, boating, parasailing and waterskiing. Sure seemed like a friendship. Good one, too. But then, when they’d gone out for dinner her last night on the island, somehow everything had gone from comfortable to awkward between them, and he still didn’t know why.
“But when it was time to find you a new home, she was the first one I emailed.” Benjamin ran one hand through Harry’s fur. “Living all by herself, taking care of a bunch of strangers, Piper could use a guard dog, I figured.”
He dialed her on his cell phone, which was mounted on the dashboard. The hands-free earpiece was clipped to the corner of his tuque.
“Hello?” Piper’s voice filled the car.
Something about her voice always reminded him of salted caramel. Sweet and light on the surface, yet down-to-earth and gritty at the same time.
“Hey. It’s me. Benjamin. I’m sorry. I’m running a bit late.”
“A bit? I expected you hours ago.” Her tone was somewhere between frustrated and worried. Whatever the tension was between them, this probably wouldn’t help.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry. Had a lot of goodbyes to get through and you’re my last stop—”
“Hang on. The signal’s patchy. I’m just carrying some Christmas decorations down to the barn. I was going to wait until after you’d left. But I didn’t expect you to be so late and now the storm is getting worse.” There was the crunch of footsteps. He heard the sound of a door creaking and the dull sound of stomping. “Now when—”
A loud bang shook the air.
He heard the clatter of her cell phone hitting the floor.
Then the muffled sound of someone screaming.
“Piper? Piper! Hey? You okay?”
The phone went dead.
A shiver shot down his spine. He hit Redial. The call didn’t go through.
The dog growled.
“Don’t worry. She probably just got startled by something and dropped her phone.”
He hoped. He prayed. Eighteen months ago, a serial killer had targeted his sister, Meg. It’s what had brought her and her fiancé, Jack, together. Ever since, every unexplained footstep had sounded just a little more ominous.
Benjamin’s headlights flickered over a wooden sign for The Downs Bed-and-Breakfast. The house lay straight ahead. A smaller sign advertised Christmas Eve at The Downs and Barn. He followed the arrow and pulled a sharp right and found himself driving down
