He never liked to admit it, but Riddhima was the better driver. Especially in conditions like this. Not that they'd ever been in conditions like this before. At least not together. The car crept slowly up the mountain road, Riddhima coaxing it gently around every sharp turn, nudging it carefully up every steep climb, her eyes fixed on a point beyond the frantic movement of the windscreen wipers and the falling snow, face screwed up in a perpetual frown. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, but the skin around her knuckles had a healthy normal colour. Her back was in contact with the seat and from time to time she even cast a small glance in his direction. Fierce concentration, he noted. Not panic. Or fear.
Which was good.
Because he was pretty close to both right now.
Which was why, when he felt her questioning gaze on him, he pretended he hadn't and kept staring out of the window.
Not that it was helpful.
At all.
Because from his point of view he as staring into the abyss.
Literally.
Once they'd left the valley behind and began the climb up Barnes Mountain, the road had gotten narrower with every mile. The trees, black giants appearing and disappearing behind a whirl of white and grey, seeming to push it further towards the edge of the ridge, until he thought there were no more than a couple of inches left between gravel and gravity.
To distract himself from thinking about the laws of physics and how they might not work in their favour on this instance, he decided to do what Riddhima had done miles ago and finally shed a few layers of clothing.
Well, one layer in Riddhima's case.
Which, Vansh thought, now that he was theoretically "allowed" to look at her more closely again, was rather disappointing. But at least now, in the tight black fleece-jacket he could read her body language more easily than through the thick insulated down jacket she'd been wearing on top of it.
He unfastened his seat-belt and wriggled out of both outdoor- and fleece-jacket with one fluid movement. He was tossing both on the back seat, when he felt Riddhima frown at him.
"What?" he asked, not sure if she was annoyed because he had a) basically committed a traffic violation, b) shed his winter wear far more gracefully and a lot faster than she had or c) because his movements had simply reminded her of his presence in the car.
He suspected it was all of the above.
She turned her attention back on the road, not giving him an answer.
There was an itchy spot on his neck, prickling with the unaccustomed sensation of being fiercely enclosed by fabric. He pushed the high collar of the plain, but suffocatingly tight long-sleeve shirt down and started to absently scratch his itching skin, while simultaneously craning his neck to cast an anxious glance out of the window.
Suddenly the car bucked a little and skidded towards the enemy trees, catching Vansh off guard and throwing him towards Riddhima. Reaching for the edge of her seat, trying to steady himself, his hand brushed her arm and shoulder, then, suddenly, where the soft fabric of her fleece-jacket had been, there was nothing but air and he had to make a very undignified, very uncontrolled scrambling movement to get his body back into a normal sitting position and not land even more undignified and uncontrolled in her lap.
Not that he would have.
When he looked up, she had practically flattened herself against the driver's door.
"Sorry", he said, giving her an apologetic smile, even though he felt like rolling his eyes at her or even yelling "Booh". A few months ago he would have. But then, a few months ago she would simply have given him a rough but well-meaning shove that sent him back into his seat. Pulling away from him like that, was not a good sign. Especially not when she needed to concentrate on driving.
So he put his seat-belt back on and forced himself to lean against the window and turn his head away from her, thereby giving her another few inches of space, hoping it would calm her down. He tilted his head a little until he managed to catch her reflection in the window. It wasn't easy to extract the almost translucent image of her face from all the white greyish background movement, but after a couple of moments he found his focus and her features became a little more defined, though they were still ghostly and pale, flickering in and out of existence. She had slowly allowed her body to slide back to the middle of the driver's seat and her eyes were back on the road.
His eyes never left her reflection.
His initial relief at the apparent end of her relationship with Karan now slowly turned into worry. Yes, she hadn't slept and was probably exhausted, but that would usually make her grumpy and a little aggressive, heightening her need for control.
And for conversation.
The fact that she hadn't said a word and was physically trying to get away from him - knowing he'd spot it, but not being able to restrain herself or trying to disguise it - that had nothing to do with exhaustion. That was something else. Had he been wrong? Maybe it wasn't the end of her relationship with Karan that he'd seen in her eyes? Maybe he'd misinterpreted what he'd read on her on purpose? Because he couldn't handle it? Or maybe they both had pushed her too far, each in their own way, forcing her into the only option she thought she had: Run. Like the wind. He replayed the words she had muttered earlier under her breath:
"Brilliant idea. Moving to the North Pole. Only one old man there and he's happily married. No trouble. No sorrow."
His heart sank. She could leave him. Any time she wanted. Karan or no Karan. Turn her back and never come back. Of course he'd known that, but once she had agreed to work with him again, it had never occurred to him that she actually might consider it one day. Not now, when he finally had no more reasons to run. When there was no reason...
"Vansh?"
Her voice, a little hoarse from not being used for almost half an hour, startled him.
"Hmm?"
She gestured to somewhere in front of them.
"Where to?"
He pointed. "Take that track. That leads up to the ravine, according to the sheriff."
She nodded. Vansh decided that now, once the silence was broken, he wasn't willing to let it settle back down between them. He sighed loudly.
"He's boring."
Riddhima frowned. "Who?"
"The sheriff. Boring little man. In a boring little town. Full of boring little people."
"Now that is quite rude. You don't know that."
"Oh, please! The Barnes Motel, the Barnes Diner, Barnes Street, "Make a Barnes-gain at Barnes Hardwares", Barnes Mountain..."
"What's the ravine called?"
"That doesn't have a name... the Barnes wildlife trail, Barney the dog..."
"What dog?"
"The sheriff's... Barnes Barber's, Barnes..."
"Alright, alright... so they are not really creative with names. That doesn't mean they are boring."
"Yes it does. The sheriff said so himself. He thinks it can't be anyone local because the locals don't do weird crimes. They don't have the imagination."
"Is that why he seems so disinterested in the whole thing?"
Vansh shrugged. "Probably. Little boring man. Only interested in little boring crimes."
"Hush."
"Oh come on, don't defend him, I can tell that you don't like him."
Riddhima shrugged, although the gesture was hard to see, now that they were on the real bumpy track and the car bucked and bounced over patches of ice and snow and gravel like a nervous horse. Once it got a little less rough, Riddhima continued.
"Alright, I thought he was a little condescending when I went to get the map. Like he thought I was worried about breaking a fingernail or not being able to wear high-heels up the mountain... little helpless city-girl."
"Which you are most definitely not", Vansh agreed. "Speaking of that moment when you went to get the map..."
She interrupted him quickly. "What else did he say?"
"Nothing of interest", Vansh replied equally quickly. He heard the dangerously high notes in her voice, but was suddenly unable to stop pushing.
"Riddhima.... what happened yesterday?"
She fell quiet and he waited, watching her eyes flicker nervously from side to side, watching the muscles in her neck stiffen, like she wanted to make sure she wasn't physically able to turn her head in his direction and look at him. Her knuckles turned white with stress. Then her fingers loosened their grip again a little and she shook her head slowly.
"At the crime-scene? You've seen the photos of the burnt bodies I presume?"
"Yes", he said, not surprised, but a little disappointed that she found the escape route this quickly.
"Tell me. Yesterday. Take your mind back there and tell me. What did you see?"
The car suddenly lurched and Vansh was thrown into the seat-belt.
"Sorry." Riddhima said. "What?"
He eyed her with a frown. "The crime-scene", he explained slowly, noticing a slight patch of hectic red on her cheeks and neck.
Intrigued he leaned a little forward, but then forced himself to lean back again, when he saw a muscle in her shoulder twitch with nervous tension.
"Tell me about the crime-scene", he said again.
And so, with something that was close to a sigh of relief, she did.
What she had to say didn't take long, but long enough to get to end of the track. Riddhima slowed the car down, then stopped when a yellow police tape became visible. She turned off the engine and leaned back for a moment, closing her eyes.
"Nice driving, by the way", Vansh said from somewhere beside her. She felt a small flash of pride in her heart and an equally small flash of a smile on her face.
"Thank you. Not bad for a city-girl, eh?"
"I never doubted your abilities", Vansh said. Her smile widened, but she didn't open her eyes.
"Liar", she said.
He made a disapproving sound.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. The mock hurt expression on his face was close to a pout and she couldn't help but laugh. It felt good.
"Don't think I didn't notice how freaked out you were every time you looked out of the window."
"Do you know how close we were to the edge? The view on my side didn't have a truly calming effect", Vansh complained. He crossed his arms defensively in front of his chest.
"But I wasn't freaked out. Mildly concerned maybe, but not freaked out."
She snorted and before she realised what she was doing, she leaned over and patted his shoulder lightly, a huge mocking grin spreading over her face while she said sweetly.
"It's ok. You're safe now. The scary edge is far away, so do you mind taking your mild concern out of the car, please, so we can get on with it?"
He grinned back at her, then opened the door, grabbed his jackets from the back-seat and jumped out, shouting "Last one to spot the frozen dead guy is buying dinner!"
She shook her head, the nervous fear at his proximity she'd felt in the car now gone and replaced by a feeling of gratitude that he was here with her. For the first time in 48 hours she felt relatively close to normal.
The feeling only lasted as long as it took her to get out of the car.
He'd dumped the jackets on the bonnet and was stretching his arms and back.
Riddhima stared at him.
With the exception of the odd hospital gown and prison clothing she had never seen him in anything other than a suit. She certainly had never seen him in jeans, outdoor-boots and a tight long-sleeved shirt. He grabbed the dark grey FBI-issue fleece-jacket from the bonnet and slid into it, zipping it up and adjusting the high collar. Suddenly realising that she had been looking at him for a full 20 seconds without moving or saying something she turned around quickly.
Maybe he hadn't noticed.
"These have an excellent warmth-to-weight-ratio and fantastic heat retention properties", he remarked casually.
Ok. Of course he had. Great.
She busied herself with suiting up, trying not to think about how she wanted to just look at him again and what that might mean. After double-checking that she could still reach her gun fast and easy despite the added layers of clothing, she was about to zip up her own jacket, when a shadow fell over her and she felt the familiar tingle that meant Vansh had entered her personal space. Her head shot up and he caught her startled gaze gently with his own calmer one.
She wanted to groan in frustration.
Now that he was standing this close to her, she saw that the wind- and water-proof jacket that went on top of the fleece was just the perfect shade of midnight black with a hint of teal that made his eyes...
Stop that thought. Stop it right now.
He patted the jacket with a smug grin.
"And this one has tons of pockets. Which is always good."
She pretended not to care and fumbled with the zipper of her own jacket, cursing inwardly as her already gloved hands didn't get a hold of the small metal zip.
Then she froze.
She could feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of her gloves, his hands resting on hers for a second, before his fingers started to gently push hers aside. He got a hold on the zipper, one hand now grabbing the hem of the jacket, the other one slowly moving the zipper upwards from her waist to her neck, his eyes never leaving hers. It was the first time he had deliberately touched her in what seemed like months and the intensity of it rendered coherent thought impossible for a moment.
Judging from the way the smug grin suddenly left his face, he seemed similarly affected, though he recovered faster than she did. He let go and dropped his hands to his sides.
"There you go. All tucked in. Nice and warm", he said with a gentle smile, his voice a little hoarse like it always was when his words were this quiet, nothing more than a whisper and only meant for her.
An image flashed in front of her eyes, sending her brain from paralysis directly into short-circuiting.
She rushed past him.
Not looking back.
Not turning around.
But stopping in her tracks only a few seconds later, back going rigid, a gasp escaping her mouth.
Vansh sighed. "Well, I guess that means I'm buying dinner then."
When he caught up with her, any plans to make a joke about dinner in general and frozen foods in particular fled his mind.
"That is..." he said, unsure how to accurately end the sentence and opting for the obvious.
"... a frozen dead man."
"Yeah..." Riddhima agreed, voice flat.
The man was just standing there, in the entrance to a steep ravine, arms raised towards the sky, head bent back, body enclosed by at least ten inches of ice. Vansh stepped closer, circling the frozen corpse.
"Looks like someone slid his throat. There's a red mark across his neck. But not a lot of blood."
Riddhima stayed were she was, letting her gaze wander around the rest of the area. The ravine was about ten yards wide at the entrance, flanked by huge fir trees, their branches aching under a thick blanket of snow. There was only a small area of gravel from where the track ended and the ravine began that wasn't covered in trees and bushes and rocks and snow. The yellow police tape went along its edges, like a barrier that kept the hostile mountain forest at bay. Now that the hum of the car-engine was gone, Riddhima could hear the sharp rustling sound of the police tape being battered by the winter wind, the forest whispering and creaking and gurgling with unfamiliar sounds. It was a strangely dark place, despite the whiteness of the snow. Riddhima shivered a little. Scanning the rows of trees around her, she suddenly realised something was missing.
She turned to find Vansh standing directly in front of the dead man, his bare hands touching the ice around the man's chest.
"Vansh. Gloves.", she barked at him, not only afraid he was destroying potential evidence but also contracting frostbite in the process.
Vansh didn't answer, instead moving his face even closer. She could see how his breath rolled against the ice like waves on a shore. She also noticed how the waves became more frequent and forceful.
"Uh... Riddhima..."
"What?"
"Wrong frozen dead man."
To Be Continued.....