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“No. I can’t. I can’t stay back while the rest of you search. I—I’ll be f-fine. Keep talking. It’s helping.”
Josie managed a frozen smile as they dragged on. “Why did you come to Pennsylvania to do these retreats?”
“I was asked to do a series of guest l-lectures for the University of Pennsylvania. I knew I’d be here on the East Coast for a year, s-so I thought I’d do a few of these here. I’d done m-many before in other states, though never during a blizzard. The ones I did h-here earlier this year were very successful. N-not here in Sullivan County. This is my f-first time here. I guess I should have stayed closer to the E-east Coast.”
Before Josie could think of another question, her vision snagged on something to her left, just off the path. A flash of hot pink in an unending sea of white. “There!”
Sandrine hobbled as Josie dragged her off the trail. At the base of a large maple tree, the cuff of a coat sleeve poked up from a small snowdrift. Josie disentangled herself from Sandrine and dropped to her knees, brushing the snow away. Her heart was in full stampede mode.
Sandrine said, “That’s Meg’s coat.”
But Meg wasn’t inside it.
Josie looked past the maple tree. Behind it, barren tree trunks went on as far as the eye could see, some of the smaller ones bending in the wind. Josie focused on the swath of ground before her, walking carefully into the woods. Snow lifted from the ground and whirled around, redistributing itself along the terrain. As it shifted, she began to see slight lumps.
“There!” Sandrine shouted. She let go of Josie’s arm and surged forward, falling to her knees. She dusted off the first lump she came to, uncovering a black hat.
Josie said, “Wait.”
Sandrine crawled to the next lump, hands brushing rapidly. A glove. A few feet away, atop the snow, was another glove.
“Sandrine, wait!” Josie said.
Catching up to Sandrine, she touched her shoulder before she could reach the next half-covered item. A boot on its side, its laces undone.
“What—what is this?” Sandrine said, staggering to her feet. “Oh God. Is that—is that…?”
Josie looked beyond the boot to where a foot clad in a thick pink sock stuck out from behind the trunk of another maple tree. Blood roared in her ears as they circled the tree. On her back, partially covered by snow, lay Meg. Sandrine sobbed into Josie’s shoulder. The wind lashed at them again, lifting the last of the snow that clung to Meg’s face, exposing her lovely features, frozen in forever sleep.
THIRTEEN
Josie didn’t need to take Meg’s pulse. She’d seen enough dead bodies to know that Meg Cleary had been deceased for some time. Sandrine slid down into a heap in the snow, weeping. Josie took a moment to try to calm her thundering heart and focus on the scene, looking at it in its entirety. Meg’s arms lay at her sides. One of her legs was bent, the knee falling outward, while the other was straight. Her blouse was unbuttoned, exposing her bra and abdomen. Her jeans were still zippered and buttoned but her boots and one of her socks had been cast off just like her coat, hat, and gloves. Had someone been trying to take her clothes off, or had she taken them off? But why would she?
Mettner’s voice came from somewhere deep in her brain, floating up from memories of various conversations they’d had over the years. “Hypothermia,” he had told her once. “As your body gets colder, it sends your blood away from the extremities, toward the core of your body, where it is needed the most. It’s called vasoconstriction. But the longer you’re exposed to freezing temperatures, that process starts to fail. At some point, your body releases all that blood back to your extremities. The vessels near your skin are wide open and the blood comes rushing back. That part is called vasodilation. Makes people feel suddenly very warm. They’re already disoriented and confused. They start taking off their clothes.”
“Paradoxical undressing,” she mumbled. That’s what it was called. She remembered Mett saying that it usually happened just before a person lapsed into unconsciousness. Had Meg left her cabin to walk to the bottom of the trail and frozen to death? It seemed unlikely. Yes, it was below freezing, and the snow had come down in force overnight, but they weren’t that far from the camp. She couldn’t have frozen to death at this distance. Josie and Sandrine had not.
Josie was jarred back to the present by Sandrine’s high-pitched cries. “Oh Meg! My poor Meg!”
Sandrine reached out to touch Meg’s face.
“Stop!” Josie said, rushing forward and grabbing Sandrine’s wrist before her hand made contact with Meg.
Sandrine’s eyes went wide with surprise. “What?”
“Don’t touch her. Please.”
Slowly, Sandrine withdrew her arm from Josie’s grip. Hurt darkened her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Josie said. “We shouldn’t disturb her—” She stopped herself before she said “body”, instead concluding with, “I just want to have a look at some things, if you don’t mind.”
Sandrine stared at her, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?”
“We don’t know what happened here. I’d like to make some assessments.” Josie leaned down and gently tried to move one of Meg’s arms from the side of her body but couldn’t. “She’s in rigor.”
“What?” said Sandrine.
“Never mind.”
