“Uh, sorry.” he said, his voice high and tense.
“Felix, what are you doing?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s okay. Were you going to come in for a dip?”
“No. I was just out for a walk.”
“I see. Meeting a girl, perhaps?”
“What? No.”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell. I saw how Amélie’s niece was looking at you earlier. I just thought maybe you guys were friends.”
“No. She’s just a kid—she’s gone now, anyway.” He didn’t give me a chance to ask any more questions before he slunk off.
I was pretty surprised by his reaction. He had all the makings of a stalker. Could he have attacked Holly Biltch?
Upon that thought I sank back into the water, but I could no longer relax. Despite the light sprinkling of snow, I was beginning to sweat. Holly had curves in all the right places and she didn’t mind flaunting them. Had Felix attempted to rape Holly? I shivered as I faced the thought.
I told myself that he was just a kid. But somehow that didn’t comfort me. I needed to find out if Holly had been sexually assaulted before she was murdered.
But how? Call the police? Tell them a sixteen-year-old boy had stared at me? Or talk to his parents? His father was in another world, and his mother was actively denying it. Would either of them even believe me? And what would they do to Felix if they did—something that would push him further into violence?
I rose to my feet and straightened my posture. It was time to get back. I took a deep breath and stepped from the tub.
Ten minutes later I’d changed and headed back to my tree house. I had just turned the corner, a cluster of pine trees blocking the chalet from sight, when I felt eyes on me. A tree branch snapped behind me. I swung around as a streak of orange and brown tore out of the woods. I watched it race down the path and out of sight. Oh! That darn cat.
My shoulders felt tight and my ears strained for any sound. I turned and looked into the startled faces of two of the women I’d met earlier that day. Both faces wore identical slack-jawed expressions: classic cartoon surprise.
“All right,” I said, injecting a note of menace into my words. “Why are you following me?”
Petite and gentle Gloria came alive first. She closed her mouth, smiled and turned to her friend. “I told you she was a real gumshoe.”
“Hmph,” grunted Denise. Her acute hazel eyes were busy studying me.
“Look—” I began.
I stepped forward.
“Gloria here,” she announced with a thumb pointed in her friend’s direction. Gloria smiled and gave me a two-fingered wave, “has got some damn-fool idea that you’re here to hunt down the killer.”
“I love mysteries,” interrupted Gloria. Her voice was high and trembling, whether from age or excitement, I couldn’t tell. “And when I found out that there was a real unsolved mystery here in Mont-Tremblant—”
Her friend grunted disparagingly and shook her head.
Gloria turned to her. “Now, don’t you go spoiling this for me, Denise. We talked it out—we got nothing to lose.”
“Certainly not your marbles,” agreed Denise.
“Anyway,” continued Gloria, “we want to help you”—she looked from side to side and lowered her voice before finishing—“find the killer.”
I was stunned. “Who told you I was an investigator?” I finally asked. Unless Denise had overheard me in the dining room earlier.
“Aren’t you?” Gloria asked.
Denise elbowed the petite woman next to her. “See, I told you, you got it wrong on this one.”
Gloria frowned. “Listen, kiddo, I don’t want to worry you, but we’re friends of Nana Vianu. We know who you are because she called us. She’s been getting really bad vibes about you and this place. That’s why we came.”
My heart constricted. Nana Vianu was the owner of the Gypsy Caravan Resort back in Bohemian Lake. She was also a gifted fortune teller and everyone listened when she gave a warning. “What kind of bad vibes?” I asked.
She closed her eyes. “She said to tell you that someone’s hunting here. Kill—kill—kill,” she hissed.
“Stop that,” I squawked. My arms were covered with goose bumps.
“Sorry, kiddo,” Gloria apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you. But she said there’s a malevolent juju around you. You need to watch yourself.”
“Bad juju, huh?” I demanded. “Who is it?”
“I wish I knew. But someone is obsessed with the idea of revenge.”
Great. No new information. I didn’t need Gloria to tell me that revenge was involved. I had heard Holly’s death described, and I was already looking for the connection. And now my stomach was churning with fear. “Wait a minute, is that why Eve showed up? Do you guys know Eve?”
“Of course. Nana sent her and we’ve all got your back.”
“Thanks,” I smiled and walked away. Shockingly, the presence of three meddling old ladies somehow didn’t make me feel any better. Thanks Nana.
I thought about what they’d said as I walked back to my tree house alone. I just didn’t have enough information. But my new boyfriend at the BLPD might be able to get me some.
“What are you involved in now?” was his only comment when I told him why I had called. I shivered, the lower tresses of my hair were still damp from the hot tub even though I’d put it in a bun.
“Not me,” I said, flipping open my suitcase in search of fresh, warmer clothes. “Lucas. I was nowhere near the place when it happened.”
“Likely story,” he teased. “And so you want me to run down all the suspects.”
“Yes, pretty please with sugar plums on top. How’s Guinness managing without me?” I asked.
“Guinness is great. She hasn’t left my side, and she said to tell you to come home.”
“I’m sure she did,” I laughed, examining the sweaters I’d brought. I flipped through the suitcase until I found a pair of jeans and a winter white cable knit sweater that I knew was soft and warm.
“Okay,” he said. His voice deepened with ghoulish anticipation. “Who are the suspects?”
By the time I put down the phone and changed, I realized just how little I did know about the people at Sleighs & Slopes Adventure Resort. With the exception of Lucas, Noel and the owners, I didn’t even know where the guests lived when they weren’t on vacation, and I surely had no clue where the Tremblés or Noel Bluebird had lived before the resort. I could almost hear my Private Investigative father shaking his head in disgust.
I lay back on my bed and wondered. Had one of these people crossed paths with Holly Biltch before Sleighs & Slopes Adventure Resort? And if so where?
A sharp rap on my door brought me back up to a sitting position and back to the fear I thought I had released. I was alone in this tree house. A tree house to which every member of the resort staff could probably find a key, including Noel Bluebird. An image of the man roping me on the deck burst into my mind. I shook the image away and rose to my feet.
“Who is it?” I shouted.
Seven
_____________
T he door handle jiggled.
“It’s Jason Voorhees,” the voice announced.
I stared at the locked door. The sound of the voice and the poor taste of the joke couldn’t belong to anyone else.
“Not funny!” I yelled and flung open the door.
Lucas stood on my doorstep looking pale and sheepish.
“What?” He mumbled, shaking his head. “It’s not like the real masked Jason from Friday the 13th announced his arrival.”
“No kidding, huh? Actually, there was no ‘real’ Jason Vorhees. He was a fictional movie character. Try not to confuse reality and television when speaking to the police. Also, there is a murderer running around and it’s in bad taste to pretend to be a killer in the woods, dumbass.”
“Right,” he said. “See, it’s good tips like these tha
t remind me of why I called you. I might just keep the detective off my butt after all.”
“Yes, I can see now why Detective Bumble hates you.”
“Ouch,” Lucas said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Someone’s feisty tonight.”
I closed my mouth for a second. Then I opened it again and laughed.
“Marie-Angelique’s got the dinner buffet ready,” he said. “Are you hangry—you know hungry and angry?”
I smiled. “Well, I did have a sandwich not long ago but you know me, I could eat again.”
He chuckled.
As we walked down the path that led to the dining hall, I admired the view.
“You seem happy, Copper,” Lucas said, nudging me. While everyone else back home in Bohemian Lake had called me Lucky Penny growing up, Lucas had instead nicknamed me Copper on account of my fiery hair color. When I’d later joined the police force, he claimed it was because of him.
“Well, happy is a stretch. I mean, we are in the middle of a murder investigation—your wife’s murder investigation.”
Lucas flinched, and I felt half bad. I’d been taking a lot of jabs at him and the topic was rather serious.
“Sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay.” He smiled at me.
“You know, as much as I complain about the outdoors, sunset in the woods is pretty tranquil.”
“Agreed,” Lucas replied. “I could get used to this place. Mountains everywhere.”
Sucking in a deep breath of frosty air mixed with the smell of smoke from what I could only assume was the chalet’s wood stove, my gaze drifted up to the larger mountain that loomed in the distance, with its picturesque snow cap. “Does that mean you’re going to invest, after all?”
He closed his eyes, letting his breath out slowly. “I want to but I guess we’ll see how things go.”
I nodded, turning my senses back to nature. The snow had a way of dampening all sound. And yet all of a sudden I could hear angry yelling and cursing coming from up ahead.
Lucas and I both stopped.
Yep, definitely angry yelling and cursing.
I cocked my head, honing in on the direction of the noise. It sounded like it was coming from the mountain’s edge near the chalet. We picked up the pace.
As we came out of the woods to the right of the chalet, we saw who was making all the noise: Noel Bluebird and Justin Tremblé. The two men were squared off, facing each other, Justin with his chest puffed up, Noel waving a piece of paper in Justin's face.
“Can you hear what’s going on?” Lucas asked.
“Not really.”
Snatches of angry words drifted up. I could tell something serious was going on and I’d heard both the name of the mysterious twin Dani and the teenage son Felix mentioned.
I cleared my throat just as both men stopped speaking.
Marie-Angelique appeared from around the corner and smiled at us and then her smile slipped into a frozen, not-in-front-of-the-guests grimace. “Justin, could I speak to you inside?” She turned to Noel who was holding a manila envelope and then us. “Excuse us.”
Justin narrowed his eyes at Noel and then stalked inside the side door after his wife, fists clenched at his sides.
Lucas tugged my sleeve to start moving again. I pulled my coat tight around me to ward off the chill that seemed to now permeate the air. Then, I followed him up the stairs to the main door of the chalet. I thought I could hear more heated whispers down the hallway.
As we passed through the lobby to the dining hall, I saw two couples and a family I hadn’t seen before come in for the meal. Mateo sat alone. Amélie, Denise, Eve and Gloria sat at the long communal table in the center of the dining room, engaged, as usual, in spirited conversation. Amélie broke off long enough to wave at me and then turned back to the other women.
Justin Tremblé suddenly appeared at another table and poured wine for a couple. He didn’t seem angry any longer. He nodded as we walked by him as if we hadn’t just seen him about to murder Noel outside. His eyes now held the empty look of the depressive cycle of manic-depression.
I frowned at Lucas who was already at the buffet table, ladling out the cream of potato soup. I moved past him and practically drooled into the steaming ravioli. There was also sautéed green beans, roasted turkey breast, spicy shrimp, and sausage. And of course there was a whole section of naughty desserts, which I was definitely looking forward to.
I filled my plate with turkey, shrimp and green beans and took a small portion of ravioli to be indulgent. Then I sat down with the ladies. There were two bottles of open wine waiting on the table.
“Thought you could use a glass to ease yourself into this place,” Amélie said pointing to the glass of red that was already poured for me. “I hope you like robust,” she said with a smile.
I smiled and took a huge gulp. “I would have settled for weak right about now, so robust is great. Thanks.”
All four women had heaping bowls of ravioli sitting in front of them. Only Gloria had bothered to add a sliver of protein and vegetable to hers.
I ate carefully, cutting the large squares of pasta in half, and savoring the ricotta inside while I reflected on the argument we’d just overheard. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with Holly’s death.
“Do you think Holly was blackmailing someone?” I asked.
Amélie dropped the forkful of pasta she had aimed at her mouth. Her face paled. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh, wishing I could take the words back. I hadn’t really meant to say anything in front of the ladies. Oh well, too late now. “We just saw Noel and Justin arguing outside and I found out from Marie-Angelique earlier that Justin has a twin, but Noel acted really funny when he overheard her telling me. I just feel like something fishy is going on.”
Amélie seemed to relax which now made me suspicious of her.
Lucas poured himself a glass of wine and drained it in record time, then he poured another. Great. So, apparently everyone was going to act weird.
I frowned at him but said nothing.
“Just what does all this have to do with Holly’s death?” Denise asked, her face pinched with confusion.
“I thought maybe Holly stumbled onto something here at the resort and tried her hand at blackmail,” I replied. That was a real conversation stopper. Not to mention an appetite killer. I swallowed hard on my mouthful of turkey.
Lucas looked up and smiled weakly. “She was pretty greedy,” he said. Then he pointedly broke eye contact and plunged his spoon into his soup.
I followed suit and took a bite of green bean.
Denise changed the topic with a new diatribe against police practices, and I sank gratefully back in my chair. I looked around the dining hall. Justin had joined Mateo at his table, but there was still no sign of Noel. Was he hiding out or helping Marie-Angelique in the kitchen?
“Is Noel around?” I asked.
Amélie blinked, but answered without asking me why I wanted to know. “I think someone said he’s chopping wood, but he should be here for movie night—after all, tonight was his pick.”
And that’s how I ended up spending my first evening at Sleighs & Slopes Adventure Resort, watching a slasher film about a Christmas killer. A movie I hoped to never have to see again. Or hear about again. And Noel Bluebird never did show up.
During the final kill scene—where countless people died and only one lived—I tried to make some sense of Holly’s death. I considered means, motives and opportunities all the way through the fake blood and gore. By the time we got to the final credits, my thoughts had been clouded by the bottle or two of wine I’d consumed and so I let the idea go.
Lucas was silent as he walked me back from the theatre. I was glad for his company, voiceless as it was. The night air was cool, and the resort was quiet. Too quiet. I could barely see the path. I sensed my way by the feel of the packed snow under my feet as we walked to the tree houses.
Lucas
broke his silence at my door. “Nice place, much bigger than mine,” he commented as he stepped inside. I closed the curtains and sat down on the chair in front of the electric fireplace.
“I guess I would like it better if I weren’t alone in the woods with a murderer on the loose.”
“Do you want another drink?” He asked, pulling a flask from his pocket.
I set the practically empty wine bottle down on the table. “You just carry that around with you now?”
“Well, given the circumstances, yeah. I thought it might help me sleep tonight.”
I took the flask from him and chugged. He was probably right about that. The whisky burned at the back of my throat. “Yuck!”
I grabbed the wine bottle and chugged it instead.
“I could stay here with you,” Lucas whispered. I looked at him and saw his puppy-dog eyes filled with longing.
“No way,” I said crossing my arms and getting to my feet. The room spun. Perhaps I would just sit back down.
Eight
_____________
T he sound of the howling wind filled my ears. I shook my head and waited for the imaginary cobwebs to fall out. Right. I wasn’t at home. I was at the tree-fort-resort-from-hell freezing my assets off for my ex, Jerk Face. The wind howled once again, and I realized the blizzard that the weather people had predicted must have finally arrived. I pulled the covers up over my ears to try to go back to sleep. It was no use.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” slurred a voice in the dark.
What the hell? Was Lucas in here? I flicked on the lamp and looked at the broken-hearted drunk sprawled out on the bed next to me.
“Lucas,” I whispered. “Wake up. We must have fallen asleep.”
“Copper?” I squinted. His happy hands reached for me. “Copper?”
“Yeah. Who else would it be?”
“I missed you.”
Oh lord, please let him be dreaming.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. His hair was a mess, and it reminded me of when we’d first started dating. His hair was longer then, shiny black and curling around his shoulders. His crooked grin had always been wide and flirtatious.
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