Murder, She Slopes

by Rachael Stapleton

  “I have tried to keep her out of the main dining hall, but then she pees on the carpet and bites at the doors everywhere else—”

  “So, aptly named. She sounds like a real pleasure,” said Eve. When Marie-Angelique didn’t smile, Lucas cleared his throat.

  “Penelope,” Marie-Angelique whispered again. I looked into her eyes and saw a sudden fear materialize. She moved us away from the table and lowered her voice. “Lucas says you might be able to find the kil—ah… that is… figure out who murd—oh dear, this is not coming out right.”

  I turned and glared at Lucas. What had he told her about me? He quickly averted his eyes.

  Marie-Angelique saw the exchange. “I just want you to know that we will do whatever we can to assist you in solving the mystery. This has really put a damper on this year’s festivities. Several families are now planning to leave early. Oh, that sounds callous, does it not? A woman lost her life…anyway, I’ve been remiss. I have not even offered you refreshments. Lunch is fini, but if you are hungry, it is no problem. Today’s special was pork shoulder in a sesame marinade with lemon mayo, sliced carrots, and Lebanese cucumbers on a brioche bun. We also have lattes, mochas, or tea, a wide selection of specialty drinks and we have fresh baked cookies.” she said, gently setting the cat down on a chair with a fond pat.

  “Thank you, Marie-Angelique. The coffee sounds tempting, but...”

  Lucas and Eve both spoke at the same time, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a coffee.”

  “And some cookies, if it’s not too much trouble,” Lucas added.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” Marie-Angelique turned back to me, “Lucas is our special guest—we were hoping to impress him this week but I’m afraid things have taken a rather unfortunate turn.”

  I nodded. Things had definitely taken an unfortunate turn, especially for Holly. “Well then, I guess I’ll have what they’re having.”

  The three of us took a seat, and I turned to Eve, “So, what in the jingle bells are you doing here?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” she said out of the side of her mouth.

  Marie-Angelique returned a moment later with coffee, cookies and all the trimmings. She flipped the coffee cups over and made conversation as she poured. “So, Penelope, Lucas mentioned that you are not quite as fond of the elements as he.”

  I laughed. “No, I doubt there is anyone who is as fond of dangling from cliffs and navigating deadly rapids as our boy, Lucas. He’s one with nature and I am his polar opposite. I enjoy Mother Nature’s beauty, but that’s about it.”

  “Well, you know what they say about opposites.” She chirped.

  “Yes, I do and it’s a load of crap.”

  Marie-Angelique chuckled. “My, my, Lucas, you were correct—quite the spitfire.” She turned back to me. “Anyway, my dear, we’ve put you in our most lavish tree house. We would have put you in a cabin but the finished ones are all full at the moment and sadly, the rest are still under renovation. We have fallen behind schedule.”

  I smiled and nodded. I wasn’t sure what a lavish tree house entailed but for Lucas’ sake I hoped I wasn’t sleeping on branches—otherwise Lucas would be getting said branch up the side of the head.

  “Would you like to meet some of the others?” she added quickly, closing the subject of accommodations.

  I shrugged just as Eve stood and walked away.

  “The two ladies that walked in ahead of you earlier have lived here in Mont-Tremblant forever, Denise Beausoleil and Gloria Simard.” Marie-Angelique pointed cheerfully to the women on the far side of the room. “Miss Beausoleil was a nurse for the old doctor in town. Miss Simard used to be a librarian. They live in town but they’ve rented our three-room cottage this week, for some reason. Oh, look at that, it seems your friend must know them.”

  “Yes, it would seem that way.” That or she was just brazenly making connections. Neither would surprise me.

  “Felix, pourquois est-ce que tu ici, mon ange?” she called to the teenager who sat by the window on his phone. He was a handsome boy. His features were even, with just a touch of acne, under dark shaggy hair. He was of medium height and slender in his jeans and long-sleeved shirt. “L’ecole n’est pas finit.”

  He replied back in French, his expression no friendlier than the leg-poking mini-tiger.

  “Teenagers,” Marie-Angelique said with a forced laugh. “He should not be home from school yet.” She turned back to her son, “Felix, come say hello to Penelope.”

  Felix rose from his seat slowly. The snowboarder’s goggles and boots gave me the distinct impression that he’d been on the slopes instead of in class, but, hey, maybe Marie-Angelique wasn’t quite the detective I was. He kept his eyes lowered sullenly as he walked across the room.

  He extended his hand to shake mine without making eye contact. “Salut,” he muttered with a brief shake. Then, “gotta go carve.” He walked toward the glass doors.

  “Attendez,” said Marie-Angelique. Felix stopped in his tracks. “As long as you are here, you might help me finish up the lunch dishes.”

  Felix rolled his eyes and mumbled something in French but complied. He picked up some of the dirty dishes from the empty tables and skulked to the other end of the room.

  Marie-Angelique sighed. “He is a good kid, truly.”

  A tapping sound interrupted my thought. An attractive dark haired man with a cane appeared. I focused on his unshaven face, avoiding his legs, which wasn’t hard to do given the brightness of his amber colored eyes.

  The man took his cane in one hand and balanced himself. “Che,” he said holding out his hand.

  “Penelope,” I replied, extending my own. His hand was calloused, and he had a strong grip. In fact, his whole upper body looked solid under the flannel shirt.

  “Mateo Fierro.”

  Okay, so Che was not his name but instead some sort of greeting. Good to know. His accent sounded Spanish but I couldn’t be sure.

  His cane clicked on the hardwood as he stepped back. “Good meeting you,” he said and maneuvered past us and out the glass doors. He was not an old man, possibly fifty, and so I privately wondered what had caused him to require a cane.

  “Sorry the place is such a mess. We’ve fixed up a bunch of the cabins but we’re not quite done with all the renovations yet,” Marie-Angelique continued. Her eyes were bright now, flickering with plans. “Noel knows all about that stuff so I leave it up to him.”

  “Is Noel your husband?” I asked, playing dumb.

  Marie-Angelique’s face flushed. She looked around the room as if I’d said something taboo. “Oh, no. Justin is my husband. Noel works for us. We have a lot of plans for the place. Like the…” The brightness faded from her eyes. “That is, if everything is cleared up. I’m sure you understand an unsolved murder could kill our business.”

  Yes, or bring a whole new disturbed crowd, I thought to myself.

  “Oh, mon dieu. It’s two-thirty,” she said. “Lucas, please introduce Penelope to Dr. Belle, I must place the turkey in the oven.” With that, she hurried back through the kitchen doors and disappeared.

  Lucas turned and introduced the salt-and-pepper-haired woman who’d just walked over as Dr. Amélie Belle. Amélie immediately engulfed me in a hearty handshake using both hands. Then she took me by the shoulders and surveyed my face as if it were a crystal ball. She’d removed her snow pants, revealing a long wool sweater over thick burgundy tights. Clearly, she knew about the feisty cat and its fetish for black.

  She pulled me in for a quick hug and stepped back. I felt my face flushing. This was the kind of welcome I usually got from Lucas’ mom.

  “You are just as Lucas described,” she said. Great. Didn’t any of these people find it odd that he was talking about me… I mean, considering his wife was just killed and he’s the murder suspect? “Lucas said you were a police officer, but you’re on leave. Are you planning to go back to the force?”

  “She’s like Dick Tracy,” Eve said, returning to my side
with a wink.

  “No. I’m not.” I growled. “I’m a journalist. I was freelancing for a travel magazine but I’m now mostly working for my father.”

  “He runs Private Incorporated, which is made up of a private investigation service and—most recently—a newspaper,” Eve chimed in.

  “Really?”

  “Yep, I’m her assistant,” Eve went on. She was really in her element now. Never give Eve an attentive audience. “The Bohemian Private Ink is kind of like the Daily Planet. You know, Superman’s newspaper.”

  “No, it’s not like that at all.” I shook my head. “It’s tiny and there are only three of us and we mostly report on the town’s social happenings. Eve lives in a fantasy world. Please, don’t mind her.”

  “Oh really,” Eve challenged. “What about the Halloween murder scandal and the million-dollar nickel case? Penny single handedly caught a murderer and solved a 50-year-old cold case.”

  “I did not do that alone.” I harrumphed.

  “That’s true. I did save you from a gunshot wound and I found the make-out location for you. Well, Mabel did.”

  “Who is Mabel?” asked Amélie.

  “She’s part of my spy network.”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. This woman had to be the most infuriating person on earth. “You found the wrong location.”

  “Wow. Spies and gunshots. Bohemian Lake sounds pretty dangerous.” Amélie commented.

  “It’s not. It’s a lovely lakeside town. Honestly. Eve’s just saying things out of context. And Detective Cody Lumos solved both the Halloween murder case and the million-dollar coin case. I was simply attacked by the killer and fought back.”

  “Yeah, cause she knows martial arts. Pretty kick-ass, huh?”

  “You know martial arts? Well, at least one person will enjoy the gym here. It’s like a ghost town in there.”

  “There’s a gym?” I said, excitement flavoring my voice.

  “Yes, it’s in the spa section. I prefer the hot tub, but there’s a pool and weights and some outdated cardio equipment.”

  “That’s great. I had to leave my punching bag at home and it gives me anxiety to be still too long.”

  “Well, that is where you and I differ, my dear. I love to be still. How long have you been practicing?” Amélie asked. Her eyes as big and round as tea saucers.

  Marie-Angelique elbowed her in the ribs, returning from the kitchen. “She just met us—save the interrogation for later.”

  “Oh.” Amélie’s smile slipped a bit, but she recovered quickly. “Sorry, I’m just so used to asking personal questions that sometimes I forget ...”

  “It’s fine.” I smiled to reassure her.

  My life had really picked up speed since moving back to Bohemian Lake this summer. There was no denying that, especially if Eve had anything to do with it. Thank God I’d been out of town on assignment for the magazine during the whole Halloween debacle.

  We all turned to stare as sudden noise permeated the room. The man who just walked in had his head thrown back in uncontrollable laughter.

  “Welcome to the looney bin,” Eve whispered in my ear.

  “Justin Tremblé,” Lucas mouthed soundlessly, and tapped his head in the age-old gesture indicating insanity. Nice timing.

  “I’m sorry,” Marie-Angelique said, approaching the table. “It’s not about you—”

  “We understand,” said Amélie gently.

  “Do we?” Eve mumbled in my ear.

  I stomped her foot to quiet her down.

  “Oww. You are going to break a bone one day.” She grunted.

  “Maybe it will trigger your manners,” I whispered back.

  Amélie turned to Lucas. “Anyway, how are you doing, my dear?” She gave him a more fervent hug than the one she had given me.

  “Is she bothering you,” The tall Amazonian woman approached from across the room. She watched Amélie with a look of amusement. Her pinched nostrils quivered over the slight hint of a mustache. “Denise Beausoleil,” she said gruffly. She stepped forward and thrust her beefy hand out for shaking.

  “Penelope,” I replied shortly as I pumped her hand.

  “Amélie has a hippy soul. She thinks a hug can cure everything,” she said with a thumb pointed in Dr. Belle’s direction. She still had Lucas locked in her loving grip.

  “And Denise thinks sarcasm will solve everything,” came Dr. Amélie Belle’s retort, muffled by Lucas’ chest.

  “A woman after my own heart.” Eve said with a grin.

  Amélie released Lucas and held him at arm’s length, as she had done with me. “At least my hugs make people feel all good and tingly inside,” she concluded.

  “We talked about this. It’s called sexual assault, and it’s illegal.” Denise said and took a seat at the end of the table.

  I snickered. “Are the two of you a couple?”

  “Hell, no.” Denise retorted. “I’d like to think I could land someone younger and much more attractive than Amélie.” This was particularly amusing because Denise looked to be in her sixties while the good doctor looked about forty-five—a natural beauty who didn’t even have to wear makeup.

  “In your dreams,” Amélie answered with a chuckle. She motioned for the rest of us to sit down. I sank gratefully into a chair next to Eve. Lucas sat across from me, next to Amélie, his eyes bleary again. Marie-Angelique remained on her feet.

  “We’re old friends—I’m visiting from Ottawa. Denise and her cousin live here in Mont-Tremblant. My niece is here somewhere, too, but she’s run off—probably moping by the fire because her maman is picking her up soon and she has a new crush.”

  “Gloria,” Denise shouted across the room. “Quit jabberin’ Matt’s ear off and get over here.” The petite woman in the fur coat waved, but remained fixed in her conversation with the handsome dark haired man. “So, Lucas, I heard you’re the fall guy?”

  “I don’t think—” Amélie began.

  “It’s alright,” said Lucas softly. A muscle was twitching in the corner of his eye. “I can handle it.”

  “Well, sonny, you just need to keep on fighting,” said Denise. “My husband once had a client who was coerced into a confession. They wouldn’t let him sleep, fed him phony information, and convinced him that he killed his girlfriend while on a drug induced bender. Thankfully we got him off.”

  “How?” Lucas asked.

  “His girlfriend turned up alive. Can you believe that? That just goes to show you how far some members of law enforcement will go.”

  “Oh, baloney. You can’t remember yesterday, let alone twenty years ago, when your husband was alive,” objected Gloria who had sauntered over mid ramble. “You must be the Lucky Penny!” She plopped onto the bench to the right of her friend’s chair.

  I attempted to respond to her but, much like her friend, Gloria went on before I could.

  “I’m sure that Detective Bumbling—”

  “It’s Bumbles,” Denise said.

  “Actually, it’s Bumble,” Amélie corrected them both.

  “Well, whatever his name is—I’m sure he’s just doing his job. Everyone knows the spouse is always the main suspect. The key to getting bumped down the list is to find the real killer. Every good sleuth knows that.” Gloria turned to Eve, “Isn’t that right?”

  Denise snorted and Marie-Angelique cleared her throat. “Penelope,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. “Why don’t you go and get settled into your tree house before dinner? It’s all made up for you.”

  I accepted the key gratefully from Marie-Angelique, drained my coffee and got to my feet, “All this talk of treehouses, I’m beginning to feel like Peter Pan.”

  “Now, now, you’ve always been more of a Wendy Darling.” Lucas smirked.

  I stole the last bite of his cookie and smiled. “Yes, well just as long as you remember I’m not your darling.”

  The group started laughing, and I headed out of the dining room with a wave. “Your suitcase is still
in the truck,” called Lucas after me but I continued across the main foyer. I knew he and Eve wouldn’t be far behind. The glass doors led out onto the chalet’s wrap-around porch and I was about to head down the steps when I was mesmerized by the picturesque view to my right. The chalet was perched on the edge of the mountain, high above a frozen lake. Now I could get used to a view like that, I thought and marched closer to the railing.

  “Stop,” a strange voice called out.

  I turned my head to glance back at the man dressed as Paul Bunyan who’d just shouted at me. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen and continued walking forward in the direction of the cliff, tripping over a string of Christmas lights that had come loose. I reached out for the railing to catch myself, but before I could grasp it, I realized I’d been lassoed around the chest from behind and tugged back away from the railing. My bottom hit the porch with an embarrassing thud.

  Three

  _____________

  I maneuvered my legs to the side and got them under my bum so I was on my knees instead of flat on my backside, then I lifted my arms to loosen the rope. “What are you doing?” I asked, turning to look at the lumberjack.

  A flicker of distaste crossed his face. Then, surprisingly, he helped me to my feet, removing the rope just as Lucas appeared.

  “I was saving you, Miss,” he said. He smelled of testosterone-tinged work sweat and wore a lined lumber jacket with the resort name on it.

  “Saving me? You just attacked me!”

  The man rubbed his narrow face, his whiskers crackling like coarse steel wool. “No, I was just saving you from a tumble down the mountainside. I take it you didn’t see the sign. You were about to fall off the porch.”

  I looked down at the long drop below and then back up to the railing.

  “What are you talking about? What do you think this railing is here for?”

  I reached for it but he shouted and stopped me.

  “That railing is not secure at the moment. I sectioned this porch off twenty minutes ago while I went to fetch my tools."

  I looked behind me and, sure enough, saw the big orange cones and sign. My skin crawled. I’d almost fallen off the side of a mountain.