Revised Edition of Spirit Flight Copyright 2015 by Valerie Christenson Smashwords Edition
A huge shout-out and thank you to Jennifer Kiziah for her help!
Many, many thanks to Susan White who was kind enough to read this story and offer insights from a Native American perspective.
Cover design by Syneca Featherstone
* * * * * Table of Contents
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Thank You! About the Author
* * * * * Chapter 1
Marisa Lacoste doubled over as pain sliced through her sides. Run. Keep running! She sucked in air. She just needed a minute, then she'd get moving. Stupid! She'd been so stupid. So unaware. So naive. If she hadn't returned to camp earlier than expected… If she hadn't overheard them deciding to find her and kill her now , when the storm would work to their advantage… She tried to quiet her breathing so she'd be able to hear them. Tried to force herself to breathe through her nose, her throat and lungs already aching from gasping cold mountain air. How could Ethan be involved in this? And for money. He knew the most important thing to her was her art. It was all she'd cared about since she was old enough to hold a crayon. A rumble sounded in the distance. Thunder to go with the darkening sky and gathering gray clouds. Tears wet her face. She brushed them away impatiently. Tears wouldn't do any good. Maybe later. When she found her way off the mountain. When she flagged down a car or found a call box. When she got back to the last town they'd stopped in. Hohoq—so small it wasn't on the map. They'd eaten at a tiny home-style diner there and anyone who'd seen them together would testify they'd been in great spirits. A man and two women. Enjoying themselves the way people do when they're on vacation. Laughing. Teasing. Probably in the area for rock climbing or hiking, or just to camp. She and Ethan resembled each other so closely with their black hair and blue eyes that they were obviously related. Not that Kaitlyn wouldn't have drawn her share of appreciative glances with her blonde, fashion-model looks. Fresh pain ricocheted in Marisa's chest. They'd played her so well. Not just for the last couple of days, but for months. The beautiful tabletop books with pictures of the Cascades. Talking her into taking a rock-climbing class. All done so this trip wouldn't seem out of character and her accidental death wouldn't seem suspicious. Stupid! She'd been so thrilled to be included! But now, looking back, she understood how she'd set this in motion. She'd been so proud to realize that slowly, over the years, she'd begun living only on the proceeds from the sales of her paintings. She'd been so excited by the idea of putting the money she'd inherited from their father, the money her brother had been managing, into a scholarship fund so other artists could make it as she had. Was any of the money left? Had Ethan been embezzling it all along? Or only since Kaitlyn came into the picture? Marisa pushed thoughts of her brother and Kaitlyn aside. Forced herself to straighten. The air around her was getting colder and the sky darker. A different fear gripped her. Its fingers icy dread. Lost, her skin slick with sweat from running, exposed to the elements overnight with nothing more than the clothing she was wearing, she could as easily die from hypothermia as from a staged fall while rock climbing. It'd be easy for them to claim she'd gotten lost while she was hiking. Gotten so absorbed in her surroundings, in the beauty and colors she'd try to pull into her art later, that she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going. They'd say she had panicked and run when she finally realized she didn't know where she was or how to get back to camp. Anyone who'd ever seen her when she became immersed in her work would testify that she could go days