The mountains began to glow with the sunrise, and the sky’s violet streaks yielded to a deeper summer blue as Phoebe Colton ran along the resort’s jogging path. The Chateau stood two miles behind her, on the other side of the copse of aspen birch trees ubiquitous to Colorado.
Phoebe loved her work at The Chateau but also needed her morning run to escape the constant whirlwind that was Roaring Springs, Colorado, during its annual film festival. Her dawn workouts soothed her soul. Roaring Springs and these mountains were as much a part of her as her red hair and dimples—features she shared with her identical twin, Skye.
Why did you take off now, sister?
At the reminder that she had no freaking idea where Skye was assaulted her, her breath broke from the easy rhythm she’d enjoyed the past hour. She slowed to a walk and forced herself to calm down.
It didn’t make sense to be concerned, not to someone who didn’t know Skye. Skye’s jerk of a boyfriend had up and married another woman with zero warning to her, leaving Phoebe’s sibling devastated. In a move so typical of her more impulsive twin, Skye had taken off with no word of where she was going.
While Phoebe totally understood Skye’s need to be alone, she didn’t understand why her sister had left so close to the beginning of the Roaring Springs Film Festival. The weeklong event kicked off tonight with the first red carpet event—The Chateau’s welcome gala, held in The Chateau’s grand ballroom, the showpiece of the Colton empire. The following days would be a blur of activity until the end of the week, when their grand ballroom would again be the venue for the star-studded award ceremony that officially closed the Roaring Springs film fest.
Skye was needed for each and every event this week, as she was the public face of the Colton empire’s resort. Phoebe had to admit that Skye had created quite the social media stir, with hundreds of thousands of followers across several platforms, and she’d recently garnered a few top-earning videos featuring sponsored content. Not bad for her twenty-five-year-old sister, or for their hotel business. Even their father, Russ, normally more detached from the twins, had expressed keen enthusiasm at the power of “millennial marketing.” Their mother, Mara, was more about making sure the girls—and all of her five biological children—appreciated what they’d been brought up with and did their parts to give back to the Colton efforts. Her two older cousins that Mara and Russ had raised, Fox and Sloane, were also part of the family.
Phoebe leaned against a tree and gave herself a minute to go over what was bothering her, underneath her jangling nerves about her sister being off-site. A sinister cloud of fear had lingered over Roaring Springs ever since the discovery of several murdered bodies at the base of the town’s mountain. The saddest part was that one of the Avalanche Killer’s victims had turned out to be their cousin, Sabrina.
Phoebe and Skye had regrouped and decided they needed to be the energy behind keeping things positive for the film festival. Skye had been so excited about making this festival work no matter the odds, especially after she learned that the online Hollywood entertainment magazine In Film Today was in place at The Chateau and broadcasting Skye’s two red carpet events live.
Their father had certainly been pleased. Anything that spelled more money for the resort empire he’d built from the ground up thrilled the chronic workaholic.
“Give your father a break.” Her mother’s admonishment taunted Phoebe as she tried to not stress about her sister. It was only natural she’d blame her father for not worrying about Skye’s emotional state, instead of the always-present Mara. Whereas Russ tended to be emotionally unavailable, Mara made up for it in spades. Not in the motherly attention they’d enjoyed as kids but in her focus on keeping The Chateau the premier private resort spa in North America.
As the two youngest of five biological Colton siblings, Phoebe and Skye had been born years after their three older brothers and almost a decade after the two cousins her parents had raised as their own. Phoebe and her sister had learned to cling to one another through the thick tension that often existed between Russ and Mara, and through what often felt like strained ties with their immediate family.
Phoebe knew she could always count on Skye, one hundred and ten percent. Which was why she had to fight from allowing her concern over Skye to blossom into all-out panic. Skye was more outgoing, more engaging than Phoebe, and Phoebe liked it that way. It kept the social pressure off her. But it made a logical explanation of Skye’s disappearance challenging, if not downright scary.
She rubbed her sternum through her thin running shirt. Whenever Skye hurt, she hurt. And right now her entire body was humming with worry over her sister. It wasn’t the first time her “twin radar” had issued warning alerts about Skye. There was the time Skye had fallen out of a tree when they were six and Phoebe had convinced her mother that Skye’s sore leg was indeed broken. And when they were seventeen, Phoebe had somehow known that Skye’s homecoming date was going sour on their basement sofa and she had burst in upon her sister and that louse of a football quarterback who wasn’t taking no for an answer. Despite herself, Phoebe let an evil smile flicker across her lips for a second. It had been such a sister moment to face down their high school idol–turned–potential rapist by kicking him in the privates, tying him up with zip ties from their father’s work bench and then reporting him to the police. By coming forward and with Skye’s brave testimony, they’d helped half a dozen other young women the athlete had threatened find justice.
But they weren’t in high school anymore, and they had phones, the ability to text. Skye always texted her at least three times a day, if not more often. And she hadn’t heard a thing since that last message when Skye told her she needed space to work things out. Phoebe didn’t blame her sister, as she’d been almost as upset as Skye when they’d found out that Skye’s serious boyfriend, a successful music producer, had gone and married the rock star whose album he’d produced. They’d married in Las Vegas and had sold exclusive rights to a celebrity magazine, which meant the photographic proof of the infidelity was unavoidable. Skye’s broken heart was the topic of many gossip rags and social media posts.
Phoebe tried to distract herself from her worry by staring at the gurgling brook, where deer and birds hung out to get a sip to ease July’s heat. It led to the area exclusive to the resort that housed the refurbished thermal springs spa and sauna from the 1920s. Her muscles craved a soak in the mineral baths—she’d not visited her favorite respite in far too long.