Page 17 of In to Her

Turning my head to the large window overlooking the house, I see Yvette standing out on the terrace in the thick falling snow, wearing only her underwear.

Her tits are still hanging out of her bra and it’s clear she’s cold, because her whole body is bright pink.

I walk over to the window, about to tap it and see if I can get her attention, when Logan comes out behind her. He says something and then… she drops something into the snow.

It disappears into a snow drift. But I don’t look at that for more than a moment. Because Logan is turning her around and leading her back inside.

What the hell is going on in there?

I go back to the generator, flip the switch, wait for the machinery to come to life, and then the lights go on outside.

Satisfied I’ve done my job, I feel an urgency to get back inside. So I leave the building and I’m retracing my steps in the snow—which are already refilling, it’s coming down so hard—and I’m just about to pull the back door open when I see the place under the terrace where the object she dropped disappeared.

I force my way through the high snow drift and stick my already freezing-cold fingers down into the snow until I grab something and pull it out.

It’s a pill bottle.

The label is a little bit smeared from the snow, but when I open the cap, sure enough, there’s pills in there. Big ones, too.

I shove it in my coat pocket, make my way back to the door, and go inside, stomping my feet off on the mat.

Music is playing in the bar, the jukebox still bellowing out the songs I picked from earlier. But I ignore all that and just go back upstairs.

So here’s the next odd thing I notice when I pull open the apartment door. Something I didn’t really notice when we dragged her ass up the steps twenty minutes ago.

This place is the opposite of that shop down there.

So apparently feminine, it’s clear that regardless of how that shop looks, no man lives here with her.

What the fuck?

“Good job,” Logan says.

“Thanks,” I say, taking off my coat and hanging it on a chair. “What the fuck was she doing outside? I saw her on the terrace.”

Yvette is sitting on the couch with a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders, shivering like crazy. She’s got her head tilted back against the cushions and her eyes are closed.

“I have no clue, man. She just walked out there.”

“Where the fuck were you?”

“Checking the place out.”

I nod. “She dropped something out in the snow.”

“I know. I saw it.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the bottle of pills. “She dropped this.”

“What is it?” Logan asks, walking over to me. He takes the bottle from my hands, swipes the melted snow off it, and squints at the label. “Fentanyl,” he says.

“What the fuck is she doing with fentanyl?”

“How should I know?”

I snatch the bottle back and try to read the label. See who the prescription was written for. But the name isn’t legible. “Yvette,” I say, walking over to her. “Are these yours?”

She inhales deeply, then opens her eyes and stares at the bottle in my hand. She laughs, closes her eyes again, and shakes her head.

“Whatever,” Logan says. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that the power’s back on. I’m hungry. You hungry, Aje?”

“Sure,” I say. But I’m not convinced it doesn’t matter. “That building out there is weird.”

“Weird how?” Logan asks, opening and closing drawers and cupboards in the kitchen.

“It’s got a lot of shit in there. There’s a snowcat,” I say.

He stops his drawer-banging to look at me. Raises an eyebrow. “That right?”

I nod.

“So we’re not stuck here.”

“What do you think we’re gonna do?” I laugh “Ride that fucker all the way into Durango?”

He shoots me a look that says, Don’t be an idiot. “It’s just good to know we’re not really stuck.”

“Sure,” I say. But everything about this job is suddenly feeling way off. It seemed so simple. Just come in after all the tourists left, kill her, dump her body over the ravine, and then head out.

That plan is decidedly off the rails now. I don’t care how much diesel is in those barrels, that snowcat can only hold so much. It’s probably not even enough to get us to the ski resort. And what good is that anyway? Our rental truck is sitting in her goddamned parking lot. We didn’t use our real names, but for sure, that’s a loose end we can’t afford to leave hanging.

Also… Logan is being weird. I don’t know how to describe it exactly, I just feel it.

The sex was good. He felt normal then. But ever since he got off the phone with Damon this morning he’s been different. I just can’t place my finger on it.

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