The Team Page 6

  Any response stuck in my throat. My heart hammered against the inside of my ribs, and I was suddenly, horribly conscious of everyone staring at me.

  Belong here, with them? These people who had been rich their whole lives, who clung together like barnacles from the moment they met in college, who had fancy houses and important titles, and jetted off to Aruba whenever the whim took them?

  To my surprise, Rick came to my rescue. “Leave her alone,” he told Yasmine. “God, you’re such a bitch.”

  “All right!” Tiffany hopped up, waving her arms. “Things have gotten a little more heated than planned.” That was an understatement. “I think it would be best if we all went back to our cabins and got a good night’s sleep.”

  No one argued.

  Tonight, as we trooped to bed, there was no idle conversation. Melissa kept her head down the whole way to the cabins. She didn’t say goodnight to me, as if afraid I’d ask her about the drunk driving. My cabin was no warmer than the air outside—I’d never bothered to relight the fire. With a groan, I kicked off my shoes, climbed into my cot fully clothed, and pulled my sleeping bag over my head. The trees around us creaked and moaned in the wind, and the last thing I heard before I fell asleep was the tapping of sleet against glass, like skeletal fingers seeking entrance.

  Now

  “So the weekend started off normally?” the sheriff probes.

  I take a deep breath. I’m a wreck. My body aches, and I’m so tired. I just want Heather.

  I just want for this to all be over.

  “I guess? I’ve never been on one of these retreats before.” My fingers play with the edge of the uppermost blanket in the pile covering me. “We played silly team-building games. Most of us weren’t really into it. Except for Adam.” I hesitate. “Have you found…?”

  “The search is ongoing.”

  My head feels swollen, like it might wobble right off my neck. “Adam had more wilderness experience than the rest of us combined. I mean, yeah, it was all in places like Vail or Eagle Point, but he knew how to handle the cold. He was the best climber—he went right up that tree.” I’m starting to babble now.

  Sheriff Hassan’s expression becomes even graver. “Mr. Bailey considered himself a climber?”

  “I mean, sort of? He got so mad at Yasmine when she made him lose the contest.” A hysterical half-laugh escapes me. “God, that seemed so important at the time. If that had been the worst thing to happen on the trip…”

  Hassan takes out his phone and starts texting, though what message he’s sending I don’t know. The nurse comes back into the room, my ginger ale in hand. “I know it’s an urgent situation, but Ms. Alexander needs to rest,” she tells him.

  I take the ginger ale from her and sip gratefully. “If anything I have to say can help, I need to do it now.” My throat is sore from screaming, and the soft drink soothes it.

  Sheriff Hassan finishes his texting. “I appreciate your help. The sooner we get a handle on what exactly happened to you folks, the better.”

  “Of course.”

  “So the first couple of days were fine, you say? When did things start to go wrong?”

  “The storm threw everything off. When we left for the lodge on Thursday, the forecast was only calling for a few inches.” My voice threatens to go ragged, and I take another sip of ginger ale. “If it hadn’t snowed, hadn’t kept snowing, everything would have been fine. We would have been able to leave once everything went to hell.” I close my eyes. “If not for that stupid storm, no one would have died.”

  Day 3: Saturday

  Nine

  The light pouring through my cabin window the next morning seemed brighter than usual. I squinted at it from the safety of my sleeping bag, trying to puzzle out why. A glance at my watch showed I hadn’t slept in.

  Then I noticed the snow clinging to the lower parts of the windowpanes.

  Clutching the sleeping bag around me, I slid out of bed and peered outside. A white layer of snow and ice blanketed the forest all around us, thick enough to completely conceal the gravel path between the cabins.

  “Fuck,” I said out loud. My breath steamed, since I’d never rebuilt the fire.

  I grabbed up a change of clothes and my shower things as fast as possible. Since I’d slept in my clothes, at least I didn’t have to expose my skin to the freezing air. Muttering under my breath, I stepped outside onto the porch and stopped.

  The boughs of the trees around the cabins hung low, weighted down by ice and snow. Some of the smaller ones had broken off and scattered across the icy layer sleet had left on top of the snowfall. The cabin’s tiny porch was a skating rink.

  A few sets of footprints punctured the snow leading to the lodge. Some led from Tiffany’s cabin, of course, and the others I thought belonged to Yasmine, Adam, and Rick. Melissa hadn’t yet ventured forth. None of the cabins had smoke coming from the chimneys, so apparently I wasn’t the only one who had fallen down on the fire-building job.

  I trudged to the lodge, my boots breaking through the crust of ice on top of the snow with every step. The last weather forecast I’d seen, before we left civilization, had called for the possibility of up to three inches. This was a lot deeper than that. And with the ice in play, there would be downed trees all over the park.

  What was the forecast now? Obviously it had changed. Our plans would have to change with it.

  I heard Adam shouting even before I opened the door to the main lodge. “This is crazy! I paid good money to you people, and now I can’t even have a cup of hot coffee?”

  Flames cracked in the fireplace, but the air inside the lodge felt cooler than usual. Tiffany stood with her hands folded behind her back, her expression professionally neutral. “We’ll make coffee over the fire. You’ll have a hot breakfast, too—we can roast sausages over the flames.”

  “It’ll be like a real camping trip,” Rick said with just a bit too much enthusiasm.

  This didn’t sound good. “What’s wrong?”

  Yasmine turned to me. “The generator is dead. So no electricity. No running water. No showers. No oven.”

  I groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I’m taking a look at the generator.” Adam stomped toward the door. “I’ve half a mind to sue as soon as the weekend’s over.”

  “I’ll help,” Rick called, scurrying after Adam.

  “Suck up,” Yasmine muttered. Since there wasn’t any coffee, she’d skipped straight to the wine.

  Melissa came in as the men left. Dark circles had formed under her eyes, and I wondered if she was hungover from last night. When we’d filled her in on the situation, she said, “Do you know why the generator isn’t working?”

  “The propane line must have had a tiny leak in it, because the tank was empty this morning.” Tiffany wrung her hands. “I grabbed another tank to hook up, but…it was empty, too. All of them were.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked. “Someone sabotaged them?”

  “No, no!” Tiffany shook her head emphatically. “We’re not the only outdoor adventure group that uses the inholding. Part of our agreement is keeping the tanks filled. Unfortunately, people don’t always remember.”

  “Or they’re douches.”

  A pained expression crossed her face. “Whatever the reason, I didn’t think to check the tanks before I brought your group up here.”

  “Then you’re going to get eaten alive in court.” Yasmine gulped down the rest of her wine.

  Melissa shot her a nasty look. “Last night you said you were tired of cleaning up Adam’s messes.”

  Yasmine carried her glass to the bar. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “And here I thought you’d decided to finally have a little respect for yourself.” Melissa sat down close to the fire. “What’s the name of his fiancée again?”

  “Shut up.”

  Tiffany clapped her hands. “All right, who wants coffee and sausages? A hot breakfast will go a long way toward making e
veryone feel better.”

  “I’ll help,” I said. Tiffany nodded, and we left Yasmine and Melissa to snipe at each other.

  Breakfast consisted of what Tiffany called “campfire coffee”—which apparently meant “coffee with grounds in it”—sausages cooked over the fire on skewers, granola, and orange juice. Melissa proposed mimosas, and everyone accepted. We might not have hot water for a shower, but at least we still had the bar.

  As we ate, Tiffany distributed hand warmers. “If you need to use them, just squeeze until the inner seal breaks,” she explained. “You can use them to warm your feet, too. But we have the fire in here, and of course your cabins have their own fireplaces, so you shouldn’t need them.”

  Right. I glanced at the rest of the group; none of them were looking in Tiffany’s direction, either. At least I’d managed to get my fire started—once, yes, but I’d done it. Adam probably had as well, but none of the others looked at all confident in their ability to keep a fire going.

  Once we finished and the plates were cleared, Tiffany opened the supply cabinet and removed three wooden blocks, two planks, and two ropes. She laid the two ropes out at either end of the open space near the glass wall, and piled the planks and blocks beside one of the ropes. “Just because the weather outside isn’t ideal, doesn’t mean we can’t keep having fun and building the team.”

  We left the fire and trudged over to where she waited. This end of the room was noticeably colder, and I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jacket for warmth.

  “This is called ‘cross the river,’” Tiffany explained. “Yesterday was all about the chance to get to know each other in smaller groups. This activity is about working as a larger team.” She pointed at the floor. “The space between the ropes is a river of molten lava. Fortunately, the blocks are made from lava-resistant trees.” No one laughed at her attempt at humor. “The goal is to get the entire group from one side to the other, using only the blocks and the planks. If any body part touches the lava, you die.”

  Rick put up a hand. “I want to warn everyone now that I have a crappy sense of balance.”

  “It’s three inches off the floor,” I said. “You’ll be fine.”

  “All right, let’s do this.” Adam placed one of the blocks at arm’s length from the rope, then used the plank to push a second one out farther, before laying the board across them. “Someone bring the third block and the second plank with them.”

  We crowded onto the first plank with him. It was barely long enough to fit us all, and either the board was warped or the blocks weren’t even, because we rocked wildly. Melissa was the last person on, and passed the third block and second board down the line to Adam. He put down the third block, shoved it into place with the second plank, then carefully laid the plank so it overlapped the one we stood on.

  “That isn’t going to work,” I said. “We have to get this plank up and use it to keep crossing. The way you have it now, if we pull it up, there won’t be anything to support the second plank on this end.”

  Adam cast me an unfriendly look. But Melissa nodded. “She’s right. They both have to share one of the blocks at the same time.”

  Of course, this meant all of us getting back off, the position of the blocks shifted, and then getting back on. Adam didn’t communicate in anything but grunts, and his every movement signaled growing frustration with the rest of us. The new positioning made the planks even more unsteady, and Rick grabbed my hand for balance.

  Still, we almost reached the other side. But as we passed the final plank down the line, I let go of Rick’s hand to use both of mine. My elbow bumped into him—or maybe the plank did—and he let out a yelp as his arms wind-milled. I grabbed for him, but it was too late. He’d already taken a hard step back off the board.

  “Oh, too bad,” Tiffany exclaimed. “Really good try, though, everyone.”

  “The rest of us can still make it across,” Adam objected.

  Tiffany winced. “The point of the exercise is to get the whole team across.”

  Adam hurled the wooden board to the floor. “Damn it, Rick! You’re deadweight back at the office, and you’re deadweight here!”

  Rick cringed at the sound of the board hitting the floor. “I-I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want apologies.” Adam stalked over to him, stabbing him in the chest with one finger. “I’m the CEO of Agonarch. Your job—everyone’s job—is to make my life easier, got it? You make the product, Melissa markets it, Yasmine sues any competitors into oblivion, and Lauren over there counts the money and makes sure the IRS doesn’t get their greedy hands on it. That’s all I need from you.”

  “I—”

  “Instead, you’ve given me a lot of headaches and made me look bad. I thought we could put all that behind us this weekend. Rebuild the old team, the way we used to be before that stupid girl. But you just can’t stop failing, can you?”

  Rick made no reply, and the rest of us stood frozen. Adam flung up his hands and stomped off to the bar, where he began to mix himself a gin and tonic.

  “Right,” Tiffany said faintly. “So. Drinks, then?”

  Ten

  “Does anyone else get the feeling Tiffany’s lost control of the weekend?” I asked Rick and Melissa.

  They’d grabbed their drinks and retreated to the glass wall, as far away from Adam as possible. Adam sat in front of the fireplace, stewing and glaring at the flames. Yasmine had said something about fixing her makeup and made the trek out to her cabin. As for Tiffany herself, she was busy wrestling a helium tank out of storage, having waved away my offer to help.

  “I’ll say.” Melissa made a face. “I just hope she can drive us out of here come Monday morning.”

  “Oh God, don’t even say that.” Rick pressed his forehead against the glass.

  Melissa tipped back her martini. “Tell me about it. I asked her if she was all right driving in snow like this, on that winding road. She said she’d driven in much worse.”

  “Let’s hope she’s telling the truth.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the knot of tension that had developed there. “So listen.” I dropped my voice. “What did Adam mean by ‘that stupid girl?’”

  I knew, or at least I could guess. The girl who had died from X-ULT. But I was curious to see how they’d answer.

  Rick’s light brown skin took on a greenish hue, and he gulped his rum and Coke. Melissa glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and said, “I’m surprised you hadn’t heard about the lawsuit.”

  I didn’t want to play too dumb. “Over X-ULT?”

  “Yasmine wouldn’t want us talking about it,” Rick cut in. “Besides, this weekend is about getting past that.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was just curious. I guess if Tom had come you wouldn’t have to explain so much.”

  “He wasn’t as involved as the rest of us,” Melissa began, but Rick shushed her. She gave him a wicked glare, but subsided. We stood and drank in silence until Yasmine returned. I couldn’t tell any difference in her makeup—she still looked as stunning as she had this morning.

  A part of me couldn’t believe she was wasting her time on a guy like Adam. True, I probably wasn’t the best judge of what made a man attractive, but there were a lot of dudes out there who wouldn’t treat her like a dirty secret. Then again, maybe that was part of the appeal.

  Tiffany cleared her throat. “I’d like everyone’s attention, please.” She waited until we obediently looked in her direction. “Things got maybe a tiny bit heated last night and this morning,” she said with a little laugh, as though it had been an outbreak of high spirits instead of spite and anger. “I think what the situation calls for is the chance to calm down and re-center ourselves. We have about twenty minutes before it’s time for lunch. What I’d like everyone to do is think very seriously about a challenge you have at work. Something you’d like the group’s input on. I’ll hand out slips of paper, and each of you write down your question or problem. Then we’ll put it in a balloon a
nd fill it with helium.”

  Yasmine stared at Tiffany as if she’d lost her mind. “And what will that accomplish?”

  “After lunch, each of you will retrieve one balloon, pop it, and read the question inside. That way, no one will know who asked the question. So no embarrassment, or concern about looking bad in front of the boss.” Tiffany’s smile grew a trifle strained. “Then as a team, you’ll strategize on how to best overcome the challenge.”

  It wasn’t the worst idea of the weekend. Still. “Why wait until after lunch?”

  “Because for lunch, I want us to clear the air—literally.” Tiffany’s grin rebounded. “While you’re working on your questions, I’ll make us all sandwiches. We have bread, deli meat, and condiments, so we don’t need electricity or gas for that. Instead of sitting in here, where negative things have occurred between us, we’ll take advantage of the beauty of nature. We’ll hike out to the falls and have our lunch there.”

  Remembering the miserable scavenger hunt the day before, I barely suppressed a groan. But the snow was pretty. Maybe the hike would be worth it.

  Melissa looked as if she wanted to object, but glanced at Adam and kept her mouth shut. As for Adam, he shrugged. “Whatever. Anything’s better than being cooped up in here.”

  It took me far too long to come up with my question. If this had been an ordinary team-building retreat, I would have asked about the security holes in our financial software. True, no one here was in IT, but Adam could have gotten something done about it when we got back to the office.

  But nothing about this retreat was ordinary. So in the end, I only wrote, How do we, as a company, learn from our failures?

  Innocuous and vague enough that anyone who felt like jumping in could spit out a few buzzwords or popular phrases. I folded my slip of paper to conceal the writing and forced it into one of the rubbery balloons. They came in a choice of three colors: green, blue, and purple. I picked purple and fit the balloon over the helium nozzle. A quick twist, and soon it was inflated. I tied the balloon on a string and let it go. It floated up to the ceiling, where it bobbed around lazily beside the rest: two greens, another purple, and a blue.