In the moments following Chloe's death, I pull the cabin's only cushioned chair over to the back corner and sit with my glare, scouring the room. Jasmine has her elbows on the kitchen table with her face in her hands, mumbling something to herself. Hunter sits on the floor near the fireplace with his back against the wall. So far, no one has broached the subject of Chloe's body. It's the overwhelming and undeniable object in the room that no one wants to talk about. Yet.

For now, we sit facing each other, no one willing to turn their back on a murderer.

Concerning decomposition, I did some research for one of my previous novels and discovered a body will emit pungent odors within one to three days of expiring. Now, I'm not sure how long we'll stay in this cabin, but by sometime tomorrow, Chloe will need to be moved to somewhere outside. The snow and the freezing temperatures would help slow the decomposing process. Not something we want to consider, but if she doesn't go, the stench will force us back into the wild.

I make the suggestion and Hunter pops up from the floor and lumbers over to the couch, careful not to make eye contact with me or the body... to begin with.

I wonder why he suspects me?

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I guess it's because he doesn't want to consider the possibility of Jasmine having anything to do with Isaiah's or Chloe's death. Of course, he could be the killer as much as any of us. Because of that, his innocent facade could be an act, like I accused him of doing when he searched my backpack without permission.

"You're right about moving her," he says. "Besides, we could use the couch tonight."

I scoot up to the edge of my chair. The cushions are stiff, but it's better than a cave floor. "Why? So you and Jasmine can snuggle?"

"Shut up, Eliza." Hunter's brows overshadow his eyes, casting his face in darkness against the orange glow of the fire. "Don't make this about us."

"So now you and Jasmine are together." My lips curl up at the corners. "That gives both of you motive and opportunity. Makes both of you prime suspects."

Jasmine shoots up, kicking the wooden chair against the wall. "You're one to be talking. You've had as much opportunity as any of us."

"What about motive?" I reply.

"Let's talk about both," Hunter says. "After we move Chloe outside."

I glance down at the floor and rake my fingers through my hair, digging my nails into my scalp.

Hunter struts over to the head of the couch and lifts Chloe up by the shoulders, hooking his hands under her armpits. "Care to help me?"

"You didn't have a problem carrying her to the couch earlier," I say.

"You're right. I could do it by myself, but I need to keep my eyes on both of you."

"What?" Jasmine says. "You don't think I did it, do you?"

Hunter lowers Chloe back down. "As much as I want to rule you out, it wouldn't be smart of me to do that. One of us killed Isaiah and Chloe. And it wasn't me."

Jasmine aims a finger at me. "It was her."

"Or you." I stick my chin out toward her, then shift it toward Hunter. "Or you."

He grits his teeth and glares at me. "Grab a leg, why don't you? Both of you."

The insensitive remark burns the air in the small cabin, but it drives Jasmine and me into action. With Hunter taking Chloe by the shoulders, we lift a leg each, gripping her by the boots and hoisting her body up from the couch. I sway to the side with my portion of her weight, but catch my balance, putting more of my back into it. I mean, Chloe probably doesn't weigh more than a hundred and thirty pounds. Hunter has half of it on his end, with me and Jasmine splitting the other half. I'm only carrying one leg by the boot, but I feel the tug of her luscious backside pulling me down.

Hunter spins us around, taking the lead, walking backwards toward the door. Carrying her doesn't strain him, but he refuses to make eye contact with me or Jasmine. This is a recent development, especially with the one who he found himself infatuated with. I think Chloe's death has made him take inventory of his defense if accused of killing Chloe and Isaiah. He may be afraid of an alliance that could come back to bite him.

Jagged red lines zigzag across Jasmine's eyes like daggers piercing her dark irises. She grunts while I groan, short-stepping our way through the front door onto the porch and then out into the snow. We had removed our parkas and didn't bundle up before making the trek toward the trees. We take Chloe to the backside of a spruce and lay her down on her back, legs sprawled out on the ground. None of us wants to be confronted with her presence, not when we have so much to lose and gain once we get back to the cabin.

I cross the threshold of the front door first, followed by Jasmine then Hunter.

As soon as he shuts the door, he drags a chair from the kitchen table to the fireplace and straddles it, facing the back, legs spread to each side. With daylight waning, the flames cast shadows across his face, making him appear kinda... sinister.

"How are we going to do this?" he says.

Jasmine plops down on the end of the couch that's not covered in Chloe's blood. "Do what?"

"Figure out who killed them."

I ease down into the corner chair, my elbows on my knees, hands cradling my chin. "You took it upon yourself to search my bag, so I guess that gives you the right to decide our fate."

"It's not about fate," Jasmine says, eyes wild and dark hair disheveled. "It's about the blood on this couch." She sidles closer to the end, farther away from the ruined cushion. "Two people are dead and one of you is a killer."

Hunter whips his head around. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

Lately, there are moments when I can't decide what's real and what's not. Chloe's blood running between my fingers. My father's blood. Isaiah's on that tree stub. It all brings this trip, our accident, and the deaths into less focus. Blurs the lines. Roughens edges. It turns everything red and makes my heart dislodge from my chest and try to squeeze out through my ribs. I imagine myself holding it in my hands. Pulsing. Pumping. Dying.

"How do you propose we handle this?" I ask.

"We lay out our motives and our opportunities to kill, one at a time," Hunter replies. "We can consider alibis too, if we have any. You know, to make it fair."

"I don't like this," Jasmine says. "I have nothing to hide because I did nothing wrong."

"But we don't know that," I reply.

"Let's start with Eliza." Hunter says. "Got a problem with that?"

"No." I lean back in the corner chair, alternating glares between Jasmine and Hunter. "But everyone gets the same treatment."

"Fine." He shifts to the side and tilts his head, probably to look at me from a different angle. "What were you doing when Isaiah died?"

"I think we can skip the standard, where-were-you question. We all know where we were and what we were doing when Isaiah and Chloe died. With Isaiah, I was sleeping in the cave, which is what both of you will say because he died during the night before morning when we woke up and discovered him gone."

"But you admitted to seeing him with Chloe outside the cave." Jasmine scoots to the edge of the couch, her tears dried up and eyes still bloodshot. "That means you saw him last before we died."

"No." I shake my head. "Chloe saw him last. I went back to lie down before she did. Maybe she killed him? Maybe it was by accident? And then you killed her to get revenge."

"Stick to the facts," Hunter says.

"It's a fact that Isaiah had flipped his coin, deciding to put the moves on Chloe. Question is, what were each of you flipping for? What did you want out of this trip?"

"We could say the same to you? What did you flip for?"

I put my elbows on my thighs and link my fingers together, my hands hanging between my knees. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." Jasmine springs up off the couch. "What did you want? Was it something worth killing for?"

"Compared to sex and getting wasted, I imagine mine is pretty mundane."

"What is it then?" Hunter rocks the chair forward, the wooden joints creaking as the back legs leave the floor.

"I wanted to perfect my writing craft." I shrug. "Thought the experience of the trip would give me the opportunity to work on some of my writing techniques."

"In the middle of a fall break vacation?"

"Why not?"

Jasmine paces to the kitchen table and collapses into a seat. "That was one side of the coin. What was the other side?"

"To party with you guys. Smoke a little weed, drink some beer, and go wild for a change." I rub my forehead, my view dropping to the floor, traveling the distance between me and Jasmine until my eyes rise to meet hers. "Is that so far fetched to imagine? That'd I want to fit in with y'all? Have a little fun?" I flick my gaze to Hunter. "But my coin landed on my writing craft, perfecting it. Go figure."

"Not sure if I buy it," Hunter says.

Jasmine turns to him. "We need to find your knife. Make sure she doesn't get her hands on it."

I shake my head. "I think it's time for someone else to have the spotlight on them. Which one of you wants to go next?"

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Chapter 10 - 1,696 words
Story Total - 18,176 words