lobby.
Beside the library was an archway she hadn’t noticed before. She headed toward it, and as she went through it, she passed an opening on her right that led to another staircase.
Thirty feet on, the passage terminated at a thick wooden door, and just ahead, it opened to the left.
She stopped, glanced around the corner into a high-ceilinged dining room, in the center of which stood a table expansive enough to seat ten comfortably on each side and two at each end. Its centerpiece was an exploding bouquet of greenery—native flora. An immense candelabra stood near each end, the candles burning. The set of chairs looked terribly expensive, and a chandelier hung down from high above, fifteen feet above the table.
At the far end of the dining room was another massive fireplace, big logs roasting within.
Light filtered in from windows twenty feet up, the wall below adorned with numerous trophy mounts—moose and caribou with cartoonishly huge racks, a pair of wolverines, Dall sheep, a grizzly bear.
Out in the lobby, a bell tolled—the light, rapid announcement of a meal.
She retreated from the dining room and entered the passage just in time to hear footsteps on the nearby staircase, accompanied by the voices of men.
Devlin turned and slipped back into the dining room, realizing as she did that sound was now emanating from the double doors to the left of the fireplace.
Running water, dishes clanking—kitchen noise.
She scanned the dining room, saw no place to hide. A long dry sink was pushed flush against the west wall, the kitchen was occupied, and there was nothing larger than a potted spruce tree behind which to take cover.
People were coming, and her legs had begun to weaken. She felt a deep shuddering behind her knees.
Devlin did the only thing she could.
FORTY-FOUR
Through the forest of chair legs, she watched them come—disembodied feet and legs, at least half a dozen pairs, strolling into the dining room. They didn’t immediately take seats at the table, congregating instead at the dry sink, beckoned by the constellation of exotic glass bottles.
“Bloody Mary, Sean?”
“Absolutely.”
“Looks like we’ve got Diaka, Grey Goose, some Russian shit.”
“Gotta go with Diaka.”
Crouched under the table, she watched a man in khaki slacks standing at the dry sink, carving up a lime and twigs of celery.
“Want one, Zig?”
“No, I’m gonna sip on this Pasion Azteca. Can’t believe they scored a bottle of this tequila.”
“I didn’t even see that.”
“I’ll pour you one.”
Breakfast smells had begun to waft in from the kitchen—bacon, brewing coffee, eggs, frying pancake batter.
Someone said, “Boys, to decadence.”
Glasses banged into one another.
“Damn, that’s smooth.”
“Fuckin’ A.”
“You believe how much snow fell overnight?”
Footsteps could be heard from the passage, and Devlin glanced through the chair legs just in time to see a pair of boots and blue-jeaned legs stroll into the dining hall, followed by a voice that boomed over the others.
“Gentlemen! Welcome! Glad you all made it here ahead of the storm!”
The man stopped at the end of the table, his legs so close, Devlin could have reached out and touched them.
The other men drifted over from the dry sink, said their greetings—slap of hard handshakes, small talk of the raging blizzard.
“My brother, Paul, is working on a busted generator, so we probably won’t see him until lunch. But meantime, everybody have a seat, please.”
Devlin crawled toward the fireplace as the chair legs squeaked across the marble, legs swinging under the table, one boot nearly striking her face.
She settled just out of range of the nearest leg as that voice boomed again: “Everybody good on drinks?”
Grunts of affirmation.
“Breakfast will be out shortly, so let me officially welcome each of you to the Lodge That Doesn’t Exist.”
The men laughed conspiratorially.
“I’m Ethan, and a couple of you have been here before, but there’re a few things I need to discuss up front with the newbies. We run on generators here, and they shut down automatically from midnight to six-thirty A.M. We’ll probably shut them down quite a bit earlier tonight. When we go dark, feel free to use candles and lanterns. You should have a stash in your room. You wanna hunt, fish? Gonna be colder than fuck, but either Paul or I will be more than happy to take you out. However, something tells me no one came here to hunt.”
More laughter.
Someone said, “Damn right.”
“We run a sensitive operation, to say the least. Maybe you’ve heard things. We had another group from Presidian over the summer.”
A gruff male voice: “Them boys had fun.”
“Well, now we come to the tough-love portion of my welcome, and after this, I promise it’s all about fun and meeting your
The men began to laugh.
“That’s not a fucking joke.”
Everyone shut up. The only sounds now were the quiet roar of the fire and melting ice clinking in drink glasses. Devlin’s eyes began to water as she fought back a cough.
“Maybe you noticed Gerald and Donald strolling the halls with Mossberg 590 combat shotguns. They’re here for your protection. But if for a second we think letting you go home might jeopardize our operation? If you strike us as the type who might grow a conscience, or blab to his buddies back home about all the fun he had in Alaska? We will put you in the pan of one of the grizzly traps in the cellar, spring it, and sink you to the bottom of the lake. Let you join our garden of guests who couldn’t be trusted. We also have other ways of discouraging you from discussing this place after you leave. I’m talking about photographs, videotapes. Pure, ugly blackmail.
“But you each paid two mil for five days here, so I’m assuming everyone’s
“Course.”
“Yeah.”
“Hundred percent.”
“Absolutely.”
“We know the deal.”
“Just thrilled to be here.”
Devlin heard something jingle, metal sliding across the surface of the table.
“Master keys, gentlemen. The south wing is your playground, and these open every door. Fourteen rooms on each floor. They’re not all occupied—we’re working on that—but many are. Peepholes are reversed, so feel free to browse. Redheads, blondes, brunettes. We have something for all tastes. We’ve even got a preggy on the fourth, if that’s your thing. Check the closets in your rooms. Should have a kimono hanging up, pair of sandals. I encourage you all to wear them for warmth and ease of access. Now, I’ve gotten blood work back from everyone, so you’re all good to go. Our women are healthy. Pristine. Protection’s not necessary is what I’m saying, but, of course, that’s
