The crew was supposedly filming a piece on the Celtic American Cruise Line’s entertainment venues—that’s what the cast members from the ship believed, and what they thought they were signing release forms for. However, the real plan for the day had been to film a segment for their show Gotcha.
Other agents and the Alaska State Troopers were still busy going through procedure in Seward; dealing with the crime scene units, possible witnesses, hotel staff and more. But Thor and Mike and three officers were on this trail—hoping to find that Natalie’s crew and the cast of the Fate were patiently waiting for their leader or already in the midst of filming.
In short, that they were all alive and well.
And it might be very difficult to figure that out.
Because, according to Misty Blaine, they were going to find a scene of carnage—blood and destruction—whether it was real or not.
Misty had supplied them with the file folder on the day’s intended shoot. Wickedly Weird Productions had filled the Mansion and the Alaska Hut with bloody mock-murder scenes. Scenes meant to terrify the Fate cast. Of course, before anyone succumbed to their terror—the film crew would jump out and scream, “Gotcha!”
“Almost there,” Thor heard. He turned around. Lieutenant Bill Meyer, with the Alaska State Troopers, approached them.
“We’ve got a storage shed near the docks,” Bill told them. “We don’t have any permanent force here—a good majority of the year, no one is out here at all. But the owner paid for the snowmobiles we keep. There’s been trouble before, of course. One rush to the hospital. Wild party and a man wound up outside naked and nearly froze to death. Other than that...let’s see, alcohol poisoning, a fight, one time a breakin...mostly, people behaving badly. Not lethally.”
“Thanks,” Thor said. He liked the cops he and Mike were working with—then again, he liked cops in general. His father had taught him from a young age that most were decent and hardworking and doing their best. Only a few were assholes—which he assumed was true in any vocation. Bill Meyer was a good guy, he knew. They’d worked together before. Bill had been assigned to Anchorage for a year and he’d spent many of his off-hours finding the down-and-outers and trying to get them help.
The Coast Guard cutter arrived at the one long dock the island offered. Captain Filmore handed out walkie-talkies to Thor, Mike, and Bill Meyer and his men, instructing them to keep close contact.
“There’s no telling what you’ll encounter, but...”
“We’re not going to be meeting an army,” Mike said.
“But, a strong man with some lethal weapons,” Thor said. “Perhaps meeting up with a number of accomplices? Thing is, to escape the hotel security, it had to be someone who appeared to be part of the hotel staff. You didn’t have just anyone doing that. You had someone with an extremely sharp weapon—and the strength to make that weapon cut through flesh and bone.”
Someone who might not even be on the island—who might be chopping off more heads back in Seward.
Then again...
They might find a slew of dead right here. Oh, wait. They definitely would; he just hoped the dead were all mannequins and stage props.
“Yeah. Anyway, watch your backs,” the captain said.
“Will do,” Meyer murmured. Thor and the others nodded.
Ten minutes later, they were on the snowmobiles, headed to the Mansion. And then another ten minutes, riding through the snow that almost continually covered the island, brought them to their destination—and a scene of utter chaos.
Bodies strewn here and there, blood sprayed everywhere.
Thor hunkered down by the first body.
He looked up at Mike. “Mannequin,” he said.
Bill Meyer had hurried on to another. “Fake blood,” he called.
Thor moved through the downstairs, stopping at each body—it was all part of the staged scene that the assistant producer had told them about.
“Someone thought that this would be funny?” Mike asked with disgust.
“Apparently,” Thor said, rising after his inspection of the last “corpse.”
“They just had to come to Alaska,” Bill Meyer muttered.
“Thing is,” Thor said, “where is the film crew? And where is the cast?”
“Alaska Hut—or here, somewhere, in all this. I’ll take the upstairs,” Mike said. “We may find real bodies yet. Fellows? A hand?” he asked the state police officers.
They nodded and started to follow him up the stairs to the many rooms above. “Man, this is sick!” one of them muttered.
“I’m on the exterior,” Thor said.
Near the top landing, Mike nodded.
Thor headed out. There were no snowmobile tracks leaving the Mansion, but there had been precipitation in the last few hours, so a path might have easily been covered.
He kept looking. And that was when he found the trail of footsteps.
And he began to follow it.
*
The Alaska Hut, the Alaska Hut... Help would be there, all she had to do was reach it...