Ice Maiden Read online

  Ice Maiden

  A Psychic Visions Novel

  Book #18

  Dale Mayer

  Books in This Series:

  Tuesday’s Child – FREE

  Hide ’n Go Seek

  Maddy’s Floor

  Garden of Sorrow

  Knock Knock…

  Rare Find

  Eyes to the Soul

  Now You See Her

  Shattered

  Into the Abyss

  Seeds of Malice

  Eye of the Falcon

  Itsy-Bitsy Spider

  Unmasked

  Deep Beneath

  From the Ashes

  Stroke of Death

  Ice Maiden

  Snap, Crackle…

  Psychic Visions Books 1–3

  Psychic Visions Books 4–6

  Psychic Visions Books 7–9

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Complimentary Download

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  About Snap, Crackle…

  Excerpt from Snap, Crackle…

  About Simon Says…

  Complimentary Download

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  About This Book

  Gabby Mulder was loving her winter in Aspen, Colorado, until a dangerous event with a ghost nearly killed her. Not that she was a believer but, given the circumstances, she had to be open to such a possibility. When one of her roommates is brutally murdered in their shared apartment, rumors circulate of a serial killer returning, which just adds to Gabby’s pain. Confused and grieving, Gabby is forced to move to a new residence, while the police investigate the death, the crime scene at the apartment, and her.

  Detective Damon Fletcher considered Gabby a flighty troublemaker after an incident at the bookstore where she worked and then later on the slopes. But when one of her roommates is murdered, his interest in her grows to a whole new level.

  When another of Gabby’s roommates is killed, Gabby is caught in the middle, as suspicious gazes turn her way. What had she gotten mixed up in? Even worse how are these deaths connected to several cold cases? The danger escalates as events, ghostly and otherwise, strike closer to both Gabby and all those who she holds dear.

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  KILL OR BE KILLED

  Part of an elite SEAL team, Mason takes on the dangerous jobs no one else wants to do – or can do. When he’s on a mission, he’s focused and dedicated. When he’s not, he plays as hard as he fights.

  Until he meets a woman he can’t have but can’t forget. Software developer, Tesla lost her brother in combat and has no intention of getting close to someone else in the military. Determined to save other US soldiers from a similar fate, she’s created a program that could save lives. But other countries know about the program, and they won’t stop until they get it – and get her.

  Time is running out … For her … For him … For them …

  DOWNLOAD free military romance? Just tell me where to send it!

  Prologue

  Thirty-year-old Gabby Mulder called out to her friends and roommates, “Go!”

  They all dove down the ski slope, racing to the bottom of the hill, on the last run of the day. The sun was high; the snow shone brightly on a wonderful Aspen day. Gabby was tired after a long but eventful day of snowboarding, looking forward to hitting the hot tub. The others had wanted to do one more run, and she’d been willing to go along, knowing she could take it easy afterward. Snowboarding was such a great way to combat stress.

  Something she had in spades.

  Especially after yesterday.

  She worked as a clerk at a local Aspen bookstore—a job she’d quickly fallen in love with, even though she’d been in the resort town only for the winter and planned to leave when ski season was over. She and her best friend, Wendy, had been planning a winter here since forever. Now the end of March was near, and she couldn’t bear to think about leaving. She loved it here, … the town, the atmosphere, her job. Even her boss, although sometimes morose and cranky, most of the time was great.

  He had been looking for a gimmick to bring in more customers. As a lark she had picked up a pack of tarot cards she’d found on the counter and offered free readings. It was all fun and games, until several people confirmed that her readings had been right on. Then somebody else had returned, upset at the horrible message she’d been given because it all happened, just as described. The woman was now a widow and felt Gabby could have done something to save her husband’s life.

  That was followed by a visit from one of Aspen’s finest, and Detective Damon Fletcher had definitely not understood nor had he been impressed. In fact, it’s almost as if he thought Gabby had something to do with the man’s death, to somehow make her prophecy come true. She wasn’t sure if the detective thought she was a scam artist or a murderer. Neither helped her sleep last night.

  His parting words, “Don’t leave town,” had been a sobering reality check. It wasn’t like she could anyway, as she had no car.

  Her boss had been furious with her, saying, “Gabby, these readings are supposed to be fun and positive. Nothing else. You don’t believe that stuff, do you?”

  She just looked at him mutely.

  “Stop them now,” he ordered. “Our business depends on the goodwill of the community. A bad reputation and ugly rumors will finish us. No more. I mean it. Your job is on the line over this.”

  She immediately nodded because she needed the job. The cost of living in Aspen was brutal. Gabby shared an apartment with four other women, none of whom could afford to move. Only about seven thousand people lived here year-round, but the influx of tourists during ski season brought in tons more people, both to sightsee and to serve the rich.

  Her roommates knew about the tarot readings. Gabby had done several for them in the last few weeks. She had even done readings for them during breakfast this morning and hadn’t thought anything of it. When they’d asked her to pull a card for herself, that had been fine too. Until she pulled the one card that made them all gasp.

  The Death card.

  She laughed and said, “Whatever,” then tucked it back in the box, as they’d all looked on with worried expressions. She smiled and said, “Come on. The Death card doesn’t mean literal death, as in I die. It could just mean the death of a relationship or a job even.” Although she hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  Unconvinced, they all headed to the slopes. And now, here Gabby was at the end of the day, happy that the dire card hadn’t proven to be a bad omen.

  With a pleased smile at the beautiful sunny view of white-capped mountains around her, Gabby rode the mountain, leaned into the next corner, loving the power and the sense of control she had, as her board bit into the icy surface.

  Just then a hard push sent her careening diagonally across the mountain. She cried out as her body instinctively bent and twisted to stay upright, her arms flaring, even as she tried to see who’d pushed her. She struggled to brake. She was a good snowboarder, not racer
material, but she’d have said better than average at least. Until now. Nothing she did brought her board back under her control. Or her speed. She dug in the edge of her board, her body almost scraping along the snow, but it wasn’t working. An out-of-bounds marker flashed in warning up ahead.

  Panic hit her, as the wind slashed her cheeks, and icy-cold tears stung her eyes. Still, her out-of-control board propelled her forward, as if guided by unseen hands.

  She hurtled toward the cliff’s edge, screaming at the top of her lungs in terror. Her friends hollered and waved at her, telling her to get back.

  In desperation, she threw herself to the ground to try to stop. Her displaced goggles allowed snow and ice to burn her exposed skin and eyes, as she hurtled downward into a snowball of board and limbs that never seemed to stop spinning.

  Splat.

  She slammed into a small upward jut of the cliff, sending a cloud of snow falling on top of her. Gasping for air and terrified to move, she couldn’t even see for the instant whiteout. When her world finally stopped moving, she peeked through her lashes. The snow no longer fell, and she could see the ski hill stretch high above her to the right, as she laid on her back. That emboldened her to test out her limbs. She moved her fingers and toes, and no pain ripped through her. She sighed softly in relief, rolling her head slowly to the left to test her neck as well as to see how close to the edge she was.

  It. Was. Right. There.

  The cliff dropped away at her cheek. Her bent left knee was suspended over the edge into nothingness.

  Oh, hell, no. Too terrified to move—in case her small perch gave way—her heart slamming against her ribs, she froze in place. Not much more than a tiny jut of rock kept her from falling to her death below. Her mind couldn’t wrap around it. What the hell just happened?

  Then she remembered the tarot card. Death.

  No way was this about the Death card. Couldn’t be.

  A voice whispered in her head, Death comes to us all. Sometimes earlier than we want. Sometimes by another hand. You live this time.

  Shocked, she cried out, “Who are you? What do you want?”

  The same voice chuckled, a sound of triumph and joy. You can call me Death. And what do I want? That’s easy. I want you.

  And, with that, the voice disappeared.

  Terrified, and still in shock at how close she came to flying off a cliff, she lay pinned against the mountainside, afraid to move.

  Calls behind her had her raising her hand to let those racing toward her know she was okay. But was she really? She didn’t dare check further, too paralyzed with cold and fear.

  Minutes later, Wendy, her face red and puffy from exertion, finally neared Gabby. Wendy stood a safe distance back and above her best friend, calling out, “Oh, my God. Are you okay? What happened to you? Ski patrol is on their way. Don’t move.”

  Gabby had no plans to move … ever. In fact, the longer she lay here, the more rigid and panicked she became at the thought.

  “What happened? Did I hear you yelling at someone earlier?” Wendy asked hesitantly.

  Gabby rolled her head to look at her best friend in confusion. “I don’t know,” she said. “I thought somebody just spoke to me.” She couldn’t very well tell Wendy about the message. She wouldn’t believe her. No one would.

  “It’s all right,” Wendy said. “Take it easy. You probably just hit your head.”

  In truth, Gabby felt fine, which she shouldn’t have because that was a hell of a tumble. She could have—should have, in fact—broken several bones. Even her board was still attached to her bindings, her feet locked into place.

  Just then the ski patrol arrived. Thank God. The first man unclipped his skis and carefully made his way down to her. At her side, he stopped and stared. “You.”

  She bolstered her courage to smile at the detective—also ski patrol, it seemed—who only yesterday had told her not to leave town, while they investigated her and the tarot card mess. “Uh, hi. Sorry about all this.”

  He snorted. “What the hell was that all about? I saw you start down the mountain. Then you went nuts. That was incredibly irresponsible. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  She shuddered, shrank as small as she could, and said, “I don’t know what happened.” She could almost see a sneer forming on his face. “It wasn’t me,” she rushed to add. “I was pushed.”

  His gaze sharpened. He studied her, as she lay here, not daring to even breathe deeply, in case that shifted her balance somehow. “Who pushed you?”

  “You won’t believe me.”

  “Try me.”

  She looked up at him and whispered, “A ghost.”

  *

  “A ghost?” Damon muttered for the umpteenth time, as he paced outside the curtained-off room in the ER area, where everybody, including him, insisted that Gabby be checked over. Although it was just good common sense, it was taking way too long. Finally he cleared his throat and said, “So?”

  Just then the white curtain was thrust back in front of him. Gabby sat on the side of the bed, fully dressed and looking completely fine. The doctor, however, stared at her, clearly puzzled. Damon looked from the doctor to the patient and back again, then said, “Well?”

  “She’s fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Not only is she fine but she’s better than fine.”

  “How can she be better than fine?” Damon asked in confusion.

  “For somebody who took a great tumble, like you all say she did,” the doctor said, “it’s amazing that no damage was done.”

  “So you’re just saying that she’s lucky?”

  “Maybe lucky,” the doc said slowly.

  Damon gritted his teeth, as he waited for the aged doctor to finally cough up whatever bothered him. Dr. Mitchie McGonigi had been in practice for what must be at least fifty years, it seemed—making him, counting all the years in training, close to eighty years old—and the man didn’t seem to be slowing down or inclined to retire. But he had a wealth of experience he wasn’t reticent about putting to use, and today was no different.

  Apparently something nagged him about this case, as he continued to study Gabby, and the doc would tell Damon what that was whenever he was good and ready, not a moment before.

  Finally the old man released a heavy sigh and said, “She should be bruised. She should be in shock. She should have signs, physical signs, that she went through what she went through.”

  “And she doesn’t,” Damon said. “So what does that mean?”

  “I don’t know what it means,” he said in frustration. “My brain isn’t quite the same as it used to be, but I think I’ve seen this before.”

  “Seen what?” Damon asked in frustration. “So she got lucky and walked away unscathed. We’ve seen that time and time again with many people—from car accidents to any other kind of an injury. This is no different. She’s just lucky.”

  What else could it be? He glared at Gabby, who still sat here. As soon as she saw him, she immediately wiped the smile off her face. He upped the wattage of his glare. He wanted her to know that she wouldn’t get away from here without talking to him.

  “Well, she’s certainly fine to go home,” the doctor said. He turned back to Gabby and said, “Now, if you get any delayed symptoms, please let me know.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a bright smile. “I’ll be sure to call if anything changes.” She hopped off the bed and tried to brush past the detective.

  He shook his head and said, “Oh no, you don’t.”

  “I have nothing more to say. I told you that I don’t know what happened.”

  “No, I disagree,” he said. “So instead of taking responsibility for going out-of-bounds and almost killing yourself,” he said, “you immediately tried to mock the rest of us by saying a ghost made you do it.”

  She appeared slightly tongue-tied, as if not knowing what to say, and he liked that. He hated to think that she was getting off being smug and difficult, when she should be thanking everybody around he
r for saving her. They all were put into dangerous positions themselves, trying to get her off the mountain.

  But the doctor turned to her and said, “Did you say, ghost?”

  She flashed a grim smile. “Well, maybe,” she said, but, even to her, her tone sounded lame.

  The doc nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s what I remember.”

  “That’s what you remember?” Damon asked. “What are you talking about, Doc?”

  “It was the other case.”

  “What other case?” he snapped, striving for patience but wanting to pull out his hair.

  “The one I thought of earlier,” he said in a pensive tone. “It was fifty-plus years ago. … No, maybe even longer. It’s hard to remember the exact dates. I’ll look up the details. But a series of odd murders remind me of something similar, but, like I said, I can’t remember all the details.”

  “You do that,” Damon said. He watched as the doctor moved toward his office. Then he returned his attention to Gabby. “Again? Really? A ghost?”

  “Look. I wasn’t trying to be irresponsible. It was the last run of the day,” she said in an earnest tone. “I don’t know what happened, but I was pushed.”

  “Nobody was behind you,” he said.

  “It felt like I was being pushed,” she corrected. “I didn’t see anybody either.”

  “And, if you didn’t see anybody,” he said, “how do you explain what happened?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” she said, her jaw shoving forward and her gaze snapping at him. “I don’t have an explanation. I told you that.”

  “Well, at least that’s honest,” he muttered. “Something really weird is going on with you right now,” he said. “I haven’t decided if you’re just a charlatan or a busybody or one of those no-good crystal readers who’s looking to cause chaos wherever you go.”

  She stared at him, her eyes dark and deep. “I’m none of those,” she said. “I’m just somebody spending a winter here in Colorado. I told you before that my boss asked me to do something to bring more business into the store. So, on impulse, I picked up that pack of tarot cards. That’s it.”