Deadly Fate Read Online Free PDF

said harshly, holstering his gun and producing his credentials. “No—the scene at the Mansion might have been for your show, but Miss Fontaine and Miss Carson are dead.”
    â€œDon’t try to trick a trickster,” one of the men protested. “What—are you from dial-a-stripper or something? Set up to play bad cop? Hey, don’t mess with me. I’m Nate Mahoney, best young fabricator coming up the ranks. Trust me, I know I’m good. But it’s for TV, it’s for a show, a reality show.”
    Thor had to take in a deep breath. “The reality is,” he said sharply, “that the two women are really dead.”
    They all stared at him, disbelieving.
    â€œIt’s true!” Clara Avery said. “I saw Amelia.”
    Thor noted the grouping: the film people huddled together, and Clara in the arms of the tall blond man who somehow seemed to have “actor” written all over him. Another young man was next to him, and a third, solid man—closer to middle-aged—stood protectively by Clara, as well.
    For a moment, they were all silent.
    Disbelief began to change to confusion—and horror.
    Gotcha. Great.
    The sound of a snowmobile broke through. Thor turned. Mike—followed by members of the state police on their vehicles—were arriving at the Alaska Hut at last.
    Thor pointed at the group. “Stay here, right where you are. Who else is here that you all know about?”
    No one answered at first. They all just stared at him. No one seemed to comprehend the situation.
    â€œWho else is here?” he demanded roughly.
    â€œUm, um...the housekeeper. And the groundskeeper...the Crowley couple,” the woman, fumbling awkwardly with the fallen microphone, managed to say.
    â€œGet them, please. Bring everyone to the parlor,” he said curtly. They all continued to stare at him.
    â€œNow,” he said loudly and firmly, adding, “Please!”
    He wasn’t sure if they moved or not. He turned to greet Mike and the others. Someone needed to draw a perimeter around the body—the body pieces—of Amelia Carson.
    Forensic teams needed to get out to the island.
    And they had to determine if a killer was in the Alaska Hut...
    Or watching them all with glee from somewhere on the cold and windswept island.
    Gotcha.
    Sadly, death was the reality now.
    * * *
    Safe.
    Clara had reached the Alaska Hut at last.
    She wasn’t alone—and she didn’t need to be afraid. She was surrounded by policemen and FBI agents, and other scared and frightened members of her own cast and crew and the film crew.
    She sat in a chair at the kitchen table, a blanket around her shoulders, a cup of hot coffee in her hands—and still she was shivering.
    â€œCome, let’s sail the Alaskan cruise, it will be different, it will be fun!” Ralph Martini, at her side, murmured. “Fun!” he sniffed. He glanced over at Clara and then winced. “Sorry,” he said softly.
    â€œNo, it’s all right—it was my idea for us all to work on this cruise,” Clara said. She still felt like an ice cube even though the log cabin that was the Alaska Hut was well heated. She knew that the numbness was inside her. She was managing to speak, to sound somewhat coherent—and to take it all in.
    The truth of everything was beginning to sink into her consciousness and comprehension. What was real and what was not.
    The Mansion—where she had stumbled upon all kinds of horrors—had not offered anything real. She’d run from an imaginary foe when she’d left the place, too terrified to scream. Cameras had been shooting her movements. She shouldn’t have been there alone, though. She should have been there with Natalie Fontaine.
    Except she knew now that Natalie Fontaine was dead—but not among the carnage that had appeared to fill the Mansion. She’d never made it to the island. She was dead back at her hotel