Free Bones on Ice: A Novella by Kathy Reichs Page B

college.”
    “How much?”
    Gass looked up, as though receipts might be affixed to the ceiling. Back to Slidell. “An Everest pass runs $25,000 per, but we got a group rate. $70,000 for seven–five hikers, two Sherpas. A fully guided expedition runs upwards of $65,000 per person. A trip like ours, with support but no guides, tops out around $30,000.”
    “So you owed Hallis thirty K?” Slidell was verifying what James had said.
    “A little more. Everything costs, man. Your gear, your flight, your yak. Oxygen is five hundred dollars a bottle and you need six to summit. Each group chips in for base camp. Brighton was a champ at fundraising but everyone had to pony up.”
    “Except you.”
    “I could’ve paid!” Shooting forward in his seat. “I secured sponsorship before we left. When she changed her mind at the last minute and switched from a guided to an assisted trip, everyone thought it was because of me. But it wasn’t. The sponsorship would’ve paid. Going the cheap route was Brighton’s call.”
    “What kind of sponsorship?” I was curious, suspected competition was stiff. Gass didn’t strike me as a mountaineering poster child.
    “The Sure Foot Society. They’ve been incredibly supportive of my Yeti research.”
    Slidell’s mug paused in midair. “Your what?”
    “The abominable snowman. Bigfoot,” I translated.
    “I prefer Sasquatch.” Prim. “Or Yeti. The creature is indigenous to the Himalayas of Nepal and Tibet. For me, the trip was less about scaling Everest, more about gathering proof.”
    “Proof.”
    “Of the creature’s existence. I’m a cryptozoologist.” Gass referred to a pseudoscience centered on the search for animals whose reality is questionable: Bigfoot, Loch Ness,Chupacabra. “I specialize in megafauna cryptids.”
    “And you thought you’d run into Bigf— Sasquatch on Everest?” Was the guy for real?
    “A sighting would have been incredible, but I was mostly compiling evidence. Interviewing locals, examining fur samples, scat, possibly finding a snowprint. Most print discoveries occur between six and seven thousand meters. So you can see why summiting wasn’t my priority.”
    “Naturally,” I said. Slidell was taking in our exchange, mouth hanging open.
    “Many have found physical evidence over the years. In 1960, Sir Edmund Hillary retrieved what he claimed was a scalp. Reinhold Meissner diaried that he killed a Yeti in 1986. A Japanese trekking guide reported a sighting as recently as 2003. They’re out there.” Vehement. “You can believe it. They are out there.”
    As are you, I thought. Way, way out there.
    Slidell rolled his eyes but, to my surprise, remained relatively reserved. “So where’s this sponsorship money now?”
    “I used it to pay for my trip to Russia. Yeti sightings are emerging from a remote region of the southwestern Adygea Republic. Video and plaster casts of footprints. Amazing stuff. I had to investigate.”
    “Brighton disappears, so does your debt.” Slidell leaned back, pooched out his lips, and folded his arms. “Maybe worth greasing a few climbers’ palms for the sake of an alibi.”
    “What?” Aghast. “No! I told you. I tried to pay Bright back before we left the U.S. She refused.”
    “Got proof?”
    Carla returned and placed eggs, bacon, and grits in front of Gass. Filled our mugs. Headed toward the kitchen.
    “There’s an email.” Gass stared at his food as though he had no idea what to do with it. “Honestly, I wish she’d taken the money. Bright wasn’t as liquid as people thought. Her trust was locked up tight. I don’t know how she managed her champagne and caviar lifestyle off the small distribution she got each year.”
    “Wasn’t she pulling a salary from her nonprofit?” I asked.
    Gass gave a short cough of a laugh. “Bright Ascents? What a joke. Bright needed me to carry her through sophomore econ for a very good reason. Bright Ascents sounded sexy, funding medical care for Sherpas and