The next day I started to feel a little better about things. Being away from the city really helped. I wasn’t surrounded by John and Margaret Alister and all the complications that suddenly came along with working at Alister Fashions.

Langdon and I went to the local ski shop and he bought us new clothes and all the equipment we needed. Trying on all those lush and cozy winter clothes and boots made me feel less like a princess in a fairy tale and more like some adventurous spy suiting up for an alpine mission.

Once on the slopes, we took a few easy runs just to warm up. The sky was crystal clear, a deep and pale blue that lightened or darkened as the sun crept across it. The heat of the sun was only a meek contrast to the chill emanating from the snow and a sharp breeze on every side, but we were bundled up and equipped with everything we needed—especially each other. Dark goggles protected our eyes from the nearly blinding snow and glare. Clusters of pines and cedars stood thick on each side of the wide, ski-tracked slopes.

We took the ski lift to the top of a higher and steeper slope. I was a little nervous, and about more than just the slope. I’d never considered myself afraid of heights, but I also never liked sitting on the ski lift. It was too far down, a gaping chasm just beneath my dangling feet. I tried not to look down, not wanting to disappoint Langdon with an immature show of cowardice.

Even so, it made me want to throw up.

I tried not to think about it, but I didn’t like where my imagination kept going whenever I gave it room to roam.

I couldn’t help but think about Flynn. I hoped Langdon’s information was right, that the cops were just keeping Flynn stashed away. But for what, I wondered, and for how long? What if they do find something on Langdon? There could have been mistakes in his business that might wind up getting him into some trouble. If they look hard enough, aren’t they bound to find something?

I thought about Margaret at our last meeting, how she’d angrily accused me and Langdon of putting Flynn up to a hoax to ruin John’s company. It wasn’t a bad theory, the more I thought about it, and I had to start wondering if she hadn’t accidentally leaked John’s own strategy, which she probably would know to one degree or another. Could John and Flynn be working together to bring Langdon down?

It all seemed possible, but also so complicated, so complex.

If I were John Alister and I wanted Langdon Cane out of the way, how would I do it? It wasn’t easy to answer that question, because I just didn’t think the way John did. At one point I’d hoped to learn from him and emulate him. Suddenly I was learning more than I wanted to know, and emulating him was the last thing on my mind.

More and more, I was just hoping to escape him.

Because there was always a simpler explanation, as much as I didn’t like to entertain it.

Forget all this angling, I told myself, assuming the role and putting myself in John Alister’s place. Forget involving that kid Flynn; he’s too unreliable. Forget trying to buy out AussieGarb; it’s too likely that they’d tell him what I’m up to before I could get it done. That’s sloppy, risky, and that’s not me, that’s not John Alister.

With me, nothing is the way it seems.

Because ultimately it would just be easier to draw him in with a bogus offer, let him fuck my personal assistant for a while, and then have them both killed and make it look like an accident. Maybe a skiing accident…

A shiver ran up my spine as we reached the top of the mountain and slid off the ski lift. As relieved as I was to have my skis back on firm ground, I didn’t feel much better about anything else. Even more than a few minutes before, I felt helpless, dangling, headed for a fall.

Langdon took a good look at me through the goggles and wool hat and scarf. He seemed to have an insight most people lacked, and his insight into me was only getting keener.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m… it’s a bit higher up, isn’t it?” I looked down the slope, eager to cover up the real reason for my sudden concern. Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself. As if John Alister would go through all that trouble, as if he were capable of such a thing.

We pushed off, and I was suddenly moving much faster than I’d expected. I tried to keep my skis pointing inward to slow my descent, but I knew that wasn’t going last long. The mountain spread out around us, bigger than I’d realized. The other skiers were well distant, and everybody had plenty of room to weave and bob and slide down that icy slope.

I started to feel better as adrenalin coursed through my veins while I sped down that mountainside. I felt strong, fast, beyond the reach of any nefarious elements and safe by Langdon’s side.

You’re getting paranoid, I scolded myself.

Paranoid? I silently countered. Those pundits weren’t talking about somebody else. It wasn’t my imagination. That was me!

I started moving even faster. My legs strained to keep me upright. I leaned forward, crouching with my poles tucked under my arms. My form was good, up to the task of conquering the slope.

What about all John’s affairs? There’s a lot to John Alister that I still don’t know, and he’s probably counting on that.

I looked around, but was unable to see Langdon in my peripheral vision.

S’okay, I told myself, he’s got to be close by.

But although I didn’t see Langdon, I did see a skier in a black jumpsuit and helmet keeping pace alongside me and getting nearer and nearer as we both sped down the hillside.

Langdon?

I looked around and then forward again, feeling myself being pulled dangerously close to the trees.

It’s your imagination. Keep your head in the game or you’ll smash into one of those trees and it’s game over.

But another glance to my right told me it wasn’t my imagination, not at all. Langdon was nowhere around, and the guy in black was getting closer and closer, even glancing over at me from behind his black helmet. Then he pulled something out of his pocket and raised it. It was black plastic, but I couldn’t quite recognize the shape.

A gun? Did John have a hit man waiting for us? Did he send us right into an ambush? Just like in that dream! The first dream with Langdon came true, now the one where Alister kills us both is coming true too!

Get a hold of yourself, my better voice urged me, just find Langdon!

Where’s Langdon? Did they already get him? Oh no, Langdon!

My heart was pounding in my chest and my palms were sweating in my gloves as I raced forward, faster than I could control and getting faster still.

The man in black got closer, and I swerved closer to the edge of the woods. Any one of those thick pine trunks would be enough to bring instant death—if a silenced gunshot didn’t do the job first. Is that the game, drive me into the trees, make it look like an accident?

Where’s Langdon?

I went faster, more recklessly, closer to the pines on my left. That faceless bastard was closing in on my right, and I could feel my time running out. He raised that black thing in his hand, but I could not afford not to be looking dead ahead. Death was waiting for me from every direction. The only question was, from which way would it finally come?

I felt like I had only one choice. Bending down, I dropped my poles, unfastened my boots, and rolled over onto my side, praying there weren’t any boulders hidden under the snow. I hit the snow hard, kicking up a cloud of white powder and rolling down the mountain with my legs tucked in and my arms over my head as the world toppled around me.

I rolled to a stop and looked up, concerned about who was speeding toward me. But it was Langdon. He swooped down fast and pulled me up, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight and rocking me very gently.

He asked, “Are you alright? What happened?”

I looked around, confused. “I… what happened to you? Where were you?”

“Just behind you. I didn’t know you were going to go down that fast.”

“I didn’t mean to, but there was a guy chasing me… with a gun.”

“A gun? Are you sure?”

I glanced down the mountain to see the man in black gliding along the slope, still aiming that strange black device at me as he drifted past.

But from that nearer distance, and without all that movement, I could see that it was a camera. The skier was probably an opportunistic paparazzo, or maybe just a lucky tourist with a shot at a million hits on his YouTube channel.

Langdon called out, “Oye, mate, get ‘cher ass over here, yeah?”

I shook my head, holding my hand up. “No, Langdon, don’t bother, it’s fine. It’ll only be more trouble for us.”

“Yeah, yer prob’ly right, luv.” Langdon glanced around. “Let’s go have a cup of tea, eh?”

We retrieved my skis and made our way slowly down the hill, attracting the attention of more than a few curious onlookers and one or two amateur paparazzi like the guy in black.

We returned our skis and slunk into the lodge for a hot buttered rum, delicious and spicy with cinnamon, apple, and just a bit of nutmeg. I sighed as I sipped it, leaning into Langdon for support and just to feel his closeness, his energy.

He was happy to respond with a little nuzzle, leaning against me in a wordless promise of his undying love.

His smartphone rang, and Langdon pulled it out, swiped the screen and raised it to his ear. “Yeah?… Yeah… Okay… I see…”

My heart nearly froze in my chest. “What is it, Langdon? What’s wrong now?”