Chapter 42 Journey to the Cabin
The morning of departure dawned crisp and cold, the sky a pale, cloudless blue that made the snow on the estate grounds gleam like polished marble. By nine o’clock, the black SUV was loaded: suitcases in the back, a cooler of food and wine, extra blankets in case the cabin’s heating proved insufficient. Clara had packed thermoses of coffee and hot chocolate, the rich scent of dark roast filling the garage as she handed them over with a quiet wish for a safe trip.
Ben stood by the vehicle, coat buttoned against the wind, sunglasses perched on his head. He carried only a single leather duffel and a bottle of vintage Bordeaux he’d insisted on bringing, “for Christmas dinner.” His smile was easy, practiced, but his eyes flicked constantly to Alexander and Maddie, cataloging every glance, every touch.
Maddie climbed into the back seat, coat bundled around her, scarf wrapped high. Alexander took the driver’s seat without a word, Ben claiming a shotgun. The engine purred to life, and they pulled away from the estate gates, tires crunching over fresh gravel.
The drive north was long, three hours of winding roads through frost-covered hills and dense pine forests. The silence inside the car was thick, uncomfortable, broken only by the soft hum of the heater and the occasional crackle of tires over ice patches. No one seemed willing to fill it.
Ben tried first, voice deliberately light. “Beautiful day for a drive. The sky's clear, there should be good visibility up at the cabin.”
Alexander’s response came after a beat, tone neutral. “The forecast says no storms. Roads are clear.”
Maddie stared out the window, watching bare trees flash past, their branches heavy with snow. The heater blew warm air scented faintly with leather and pine from Alexander’s coat still draped over the seat back. She felt the tension in the car like a physical weight, Ben’s calculated casualness, Alexander’s controlled restraint, her own churning thoughts.
After forty minutes, Ben tried again. “Cabin’s by the lake, right? I remember you mentioning it once. Good fishing up there?”
“Some,” Alexander replied, eyes on the road. “Trout mostly. The water's too cold this time of year.”
Ben chuckled, the sound forced. “Maybe next summer.”
Maddie shifted, pulling her coat tighter. “It’ll be nice to be somewhere smaller,” she said quietly. “Less… echoing.”
Ben glanced back at her, a smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Cozy. Intimate. Perfect for family bonding.”
No one answered.
The rest of the drive passed in near-silence. The landscape grew wilder, trees thicker, roads narrower, snow deeper in the shade. Eventually the asphalt gave way to a well-maintained gravel drive that curved through dense woods. The trees opened suddenly, revealing the lake: a wide, frozen expanse glittering in the pale sunlight, ringed by evergreens and bare birch. And there, perched on a gentle rise overlooking the water, stood the cabin.
It was nothing like the word “cabin” usually conjured.
The structure was modern, elegant, long, low lines of dark cedar siding contrasted with massive floor-to-ceiling glass panels that faced the lake. A wide deck wrapped around the front and side, snow-dusted but sturdy, with a built-in hot tub tucked in one corner. Stone steps led up to double black doors framed in steel. Solar panels gleamed discreetly on the roof, and a stone chimney rose from the center, promising warmth. The entire property was surrounded by woods on three sides, the lake on the fourth, private, secure, breathtaking.
Maddie’s breath caught as they pulled up. “It’s beautiful.”
Ben stepped out first, sunglasses back on, surveying the place with a slow sweep. “Impressive,” he said, voice carrying a note Maddie couldn’t quite place. “Very impressive.”
Inside, the air was already warm, someone had come ahead to heat the place. The main room opened wide: polished concrete floors, high ceilings with exposed beams, a massive stone fireplace dominating one wall. Black leather furniture faced the lake view through the glass. The kitchen was sleek, matte black cabinets, white quartz counters, stainless appliances. A hallway led to three bedrooms, each with its own bath.
Alexander set his bag down. “Take your pick of rooms. I’ll get the fire going.”
Maddie chose the bedroom at the end of the hall, largest windows, direct lake view, king bed with crisp white linens and a thick charcoal throw. She dropped her bag, stood at the glass, watching snow dust the frozen water. The quiet was profound, no city hum, no estate echoes, just the soft creak of the house settling and the distant sigh of wind through the pines.
Ben chose the room closest to the main living area, strategic, she realized later. He stood in the doorway a moment, looking around with an expression that might have been admiration. But beneath it lay calculation. Smaller house. Fewer rooms. Less space to hide. Three people under one roof for days. Opportunities.
Alexander moved through the cabin with quiet efficiency, stacking logs in the fireplace, lighting kindling. Flames caught quickly, crackling and popping, throwing golden light across the room. The scent of burning cedar filled the air.
Maddie emerged from her room, drawn by the warmth. Ben followed a moment later.
Alexander straightened, brushing wood dust from his hands. “We’ll rest today. Unpack. Settle in. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, we can plan dinner, maybe walk the lake if the ice holds.”
Ben smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
Maddie nodded, though something in the air felt off, too many unspoken things. She didn’t know about Ben’s plan, about the PI, about the evidence he sought. She only knew the cabin felt both safe and strangely intimate, the three of them together in a smaller space than the estate.
Alexander caught her eye across the room. His gaze was steady, reassuring, but beneath it lay caution. He knew Ben’s motive. He’d caught the tail. He’d questioned the man. He understood the game Ben was playing.
And he would play it better.
For now, though, they stood in the warm glow of the fire, the lake glittering beyond the glass, the woods silent around them.
Christmas was coming.
And with it, whatever came next.