Night Watch

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THOSE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE brochures were right on the money, John Jaden thought. It was freezing, and he was practically up to his ass in snow, yet surfers and sunbathers preened on a warm beach less than ninety minutes away. He’d seen them as he’d driven up the highway on his way to Big Bear.

A little longer than ninety minutes, he reminded himself. The highway patrol had made him turn around to buy tire chains before they let him up Bear Mountain. Annoying as hell. He knew how to handle himself on ice and snow, even if these other sunbaked idiots didn’t.

It didn’t matter. This was going to be the best day he’d had in a long time.

He pulled his jacket tighter around him as the snow fell harder. He’d left his car in a parking lot a mile back. Couldn’t risk getting stuck. Not today.

The snowplows hadn’t found their way to this cluster of rustic vacation houses on a street called Starvation Flats. He shook his head. What the hell kind of name was that? Probably a story there, but not one he’d care to explore once his business was done. Most of the houses appeared deserted on this Wednesday afternoon, with no fresh footprints coming or going from any of them. He’d only seen one car since he’d set out on foot, a group of pretty-boy ski bums on their way to the slopes.

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