Page 51 of 44.1644° North
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No denying it, the view from Blackbird Ridge was beautiful.
It was not an easy hike. It probably wasn’t easy at any time of year, but in the winter, even in just partial snow and ice, it was particularly taxing.
But if Deirdre had been disposed of on Blackbird Ridge, it would have been under these same conditions.
Which is why it was perfectly obvious from the minute Simon and I started climbing that no one had taken Deirdre, alive or dead, up this mountain.
The sun was shining, but once we were beneath the canopy of trees, the light dimmed and the temperature dropped sharply. It was very quiet, the only sounds our boots crunching grit and ice, the occasionalcrackof a branch beneath snow, and, less frequently, thebuzzof an aircraft disappearing into the distance.
Every time I heard a plane, I thought of Rory on his way back to Virginia. I’d promised to phone him as soon as I got back from my hike. Our goodbyes had been brief, and I was already wondering when we would see each other again.
The air was so clear and sharp, it seemed to cut through my chest. I was in pretty good shape. Simon seemed to be in excellent shape. But hiking in snow takes longer and requires more energy. It was a little after one by the time we reached the summit.
Simon had little to say when we started our journey, and hadn’t spoken in over two hours. We walked out onto Blackbird Ridge, sat on boulders overlooking the drop to the trees far below, and drank water and ate Kind bars. It was sunny on the ridge, though not much warmer. There was no shelter from the wind up here.
I was hoping that we might have reached the point of friendly comradery by then, but Simon seemed more reserved, more closed off, than on Friday night.
He finished his bar, tucked the wrapper in his jacket, and said shortly, “Well?”
I took my sunglasses off. “Well, what?”
His face was hard and unfriendly. “What did you want to know?”
I shrugged. “What did you want to tell me?”
“We both know you didn’t climb up here for the view.”
I smiled, glanced across at the tree covered hillside.
“It’s a terrific view, but no. The truth is, I got an anonymous email about a month ago with partial coordinates, and this was the closest I could calculate to the possible location.”
“Location of?”
“Deirdre’s body.”
He stared at me for what felt like a long time.
Then he shook his head. “Well, here you are. Where do you think she is?”
“Not up here.”
His smile was dry. “No.”
“It’s a weird kind of joke.”
“Yes.” His smile was not particularly pleasant. “A lot of people don’t like you internet hounds.”
“I’ll try not to let it hurt my feelings.”
“Fifteen minutes into this hike you had to realize no one would have tried to haul her up here.”
I said ruefully, “I realized it the first glimpse I ever got of this mountain.”
“Obviously, you had some other reason for dragging me up here.”
“If you’ll recall, George was the one who suggested you be my guide. I’d never heard of you until this weekend.”
