Snow Angel

by Melanie Jackson

  The others followed close behind with Ellis taking up the rear. There was a door at the top of the stairs which was unlocked. I pushed it open and was instantly struck by a chilly wind. I fell back a step, wishing that I’d kept my shawl and that I wasn’t in bare feet. Then I mentally grabbed hold of my bootstraps and stepped out onto the wet roof to await the others. Loose gravel crunched painfully underfoot. Looking to my right, I saw a small utility shed approximately where the elevator controls should be located. Ellis followed the direction of my glance as soon as he emerged from the stairwell.

  “Well done, Chloe Boston,” he said with a wry smile.

  Walking to the shed, Ellis grabbed the knob and threw the door open. At the same time he jumped into the doorway with his pistol poised. A light shone from within the shed but there was no response of gunfire or surprise. I walked to stand beside Ellis and took a peek inside. The room was empty, but a chair was set up at an elaborate control console. A pair of headphones with a small microphone attached sat on a table beside the chair. We’d obviously found our captor’s command and control center.

  As I stepped back away from the door, I heard sirens in the distance rapidly approaching the hotel. It was about time, I thought.

  “Help is on the way, Tiffany,” I said under my breath.

  Ellis glared at me, then closed the shed door and stepped out onto the roof to have a look around. I stood close beside the elevator control shed, hoping to use it to block the wind. It was beginning to drizzle. Alex came forward and offered me his coat, which I accepted gladly. He then wrapped his arms around my shaking body and kissed me gently on the forehead. Claire and Elmore stayed huddled together by the door to the stairwell leading down.

  “We’re going to make it out of this alive, Chloe. I promise,” Alex tried to assure me.

  I smiled up at his cherished face, but I wasn’t as sure as he sounded.

  Ellis walked to the center of the roof, oblivious to the elements. He was obviously nervous and agitated. He made one full rotation, examining the various sheds and ducts protruding from the roof of the building, no doubt attempting to penetrate the shadows with his eyes to spot the man he was tracking. He halted when he was faced with the silhouette of a man that unfolded itself from the shadows. The dark outline showed us that the stranger was also carrying a pistol at the ready.

  “Who are you,” Ellis challenged.

  “Don’t you know?” the shadow replied.

  “How would I?”

  “Ask the girl.”

  Ellis turned to face me. My ANALYTICO processor slipped back into gear. I ran through all the facts at my disposal and found that everything fit nicely into place, with all the actors accounted for, all but one. The answer became as obvious as the freezing nose on my face. Only one man could have orchestrated this evening; only one man could have had access to the resources and clues required.

  “Fenton Slaughter,” I called out.

  “Surely you’re joking,” Ellis responded, turning back with a snap of his neck to face the shadowy figure.

  The stranger stepped fully from the darkness to reveal himself. He was wearing a tailored trench coat and fedora, but his features were clear in the light of the full moon.

  “Fenton, is it true? Is it really you?” Elmore called.

  Ellis’ response was more primal and direct. He simply raised his gun to point it at the figure before him and pulled the trigger. There was a loud click but no report. He pulled the trigger again and again, but to no affect.

  “Ellis, you ass,” Fenton said. “You didn’t really believe I’d provide you with a weapon that was fully loaded. And here you didn’t even bother to check the magazine after you shot Tiffany.” Ellis looked blank. “I gave you the one bullet to incriminate yourself and you did just that.”

  Ellis looked down to the gun in his hand and ejected the clip. When he saw the weapon was void of ammunition, he dropped the useless ugly thing to the rooftop. He looked back up to Fenton with an angry scowl on his lips.

  “But Fenton, you’re dead,” Elmore stated in confusion.

  “Correction. My administrative assistant is dead. Fortunately he came to the suite the night I was to be murdered or it would have been me crushed to a pulp by the fall.”

  As it started to rain harder, Fenton Slaughter stepped closer. Apparently convinced that Ellis would stand his ground, he turned to address me. By this time I was dog tired and sopping wet, but I stood tall, determined that I would no longer be pushed around by gun-toting thugs.

  “Chloe Boston, I commend you on delivering this group of miscreants into the palm of my hand. Though I am disappointed you failed to uncover my murderer. You and your husband may now leave.”

  “I’d rather not,” I replied indignantly.

  “Chloe, what are you saying?” Alex chided.

  “Alex, I’m responsible for these people,” I explained, hoping he would understand that I couldn’t leave them to be killed, as I was sure they would be. “Besides, Mr. Slaughter is right. I have yet to unmask the murderer.”

  “And you’re prepared to do so now, are you?” Slaughter asked with a smirk.

  I hated him too. He and Ellis deserved each other.

  “I am.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Answering a few pointed questions should suffice.”

  “Proceed.”

  I stepped out from the lee of the elevator shed and faced Elmore and Claire. I didn’t let Alex know that I wasn’t sure what I was doing, that I was only hoping to buy time and that the police would burst through the door onto the roof at any moment. Instead, I spoke forcefully as I addressed the elder partner in the firm.

  “Mr. Frye.…”

  “Elmore, please.”

  “Elmore, you stated that Fenton Slaughter was a wonderful man.”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “Yet he was fully prepared to blackmail you for embezzlement.”

  “He would never do that,” Elmore protested.

  “Then why did he keep your letter of resignation and the accounting records?”

  Elmore looked dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

  “Bravo, Ms. Boston,” Slaughter said. “One mystery solved. What’s next?”

  Without turning, I addressed myself to Ellis.

  “Reginald Ellis.”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you know that Fenton Slaughter was sleeping with Tiffany Swan at the same time that he was having an affair with your wife?”

  “Fenton, you cad,” Ellis exclaimed, sounding like the total bore that he was.

  I remained focused on Lady Ellis.

  “Claire, you fail to look surprised by this fact,” I pointed out.

  Claire smiled a wry smile and took her time before responding.

  “Of course I knew about Fenton and Miss Swan. So what? Does that make me the murderer?”

  I was about to explain to her that yes, that does make her the murderer, when I was struck by a wild fancy of intuition that I could not ignore. I decided to run with it.

  “Fenton Slaughter, why did you murder your administrative assistant?” I asked, finally turning back to face my tormentor.

  “Fenton, you didn’t, did you?” Elmore exclaimed.

  “Slaughter, I should have had you killed when I had the chance,” Ellis declared.

  “Fenton, how could you?” Claire asked.

  Slaughter released a confident chuckle.

  “You’re very good, Chloe Boston. A mite bit too good. I wish I’d known just how good you are before I asked Tiffany to invite you to this evening’s soirée. And to think, I almost allowed you to leave this rooftop alive.”

  “Chloe, what have you done?” Alex burst out, running to wrap his arms around me and thereby shield me with his body.

  “Chloe, what have you done?” Slaughter mimicked, mocking my husband’s heroic gesture.

  This guy is a real pig, I thought to myself. And he’s going down.

>   “So, why’d you do it, Slaughter?” I asked.

  “Simple, he knew too much about my offshore accounts. You see, Elmore was only a small-time embezzler in the firm. But that’s neither here nor there now. You’ve prompted a change of plan. When this night is through, Elmore will be blamed for all the missing funds and I’ll still be dead. Now, I have a plane to catch.”

  “And you, Tiffany Swan, what were you to gain out of all of this?” I asked, looking intently over Slaughter’s shoulder.

  It was the oldest trick in the book, and to my shock and delight the ruse worked like a charm. Slaughter turned abruptly to look behind himself. Of course, there was no one there, but that didn’t matter. His action bought me the time I needed for my next feat of insanity. Leaning far forward, I dug the aching balls of my feet into the pea gravel of the rooftop and took off at maximum speed straight at Fenton Slaughter. He turned in time to feel my shoulder driven into his lower gut. His pistol went off as all the air was forced from his lungs. I kept driving forward while grabbing hold of his thighs and was surprised when his feet actually left the rooftop.

  We were flying. Too late I saw to my horror that our common landing spot was to be a large skylight cut into the rooftop. We hit the skylight hard. There was a massive crashing sound as it gave way. Then we were falling.

  “Chloe!” I heard Alex scream.

  Oddly enough, our impact with the skylight was nothing compared to our impact with the floor of the corporate suite below. They were right—it isn’t the fall that kills you; it’s the sudden stop at the end. I felt intense pain shoot through my body. Glass rained down around us. I tried to cover myself from the worst of it but failed miserably. Something large and solid hit me in the head.

  “Chloe, is that you?” was the last thing I remember hearing, coming from Tiffany lying on the floor not a dozen feet away, before I blacked out.

  * * *

  “Chloe? Chloe, are you awake?”

  My eyes fluttered open at the sound of Alex’s voice. I realized that I had a smile on my face the moment I regained consciousness.

  “Alex,” I said groggily.

  And then his arms were around me, holding me close. I basked in his embrace until some troubling thoughts came to mind.

  “Fenton?” I whispered into his ear.

  “Alive and in custody,” Alex replied.

  “Tiffany?”

  “She’s fine and lying in a room not far from yours.”

  “The others?”

  “Undergoing intensive questioning by the Seattle Police Department.”

  “And me?”

  “A broken leg and a mild concussion.”

  “Then everything is alright?”

  “Everything is just fine,” he replied, pulling back to smile down at me.

  I smiled back at him, but then my smile faltered and I started to cry.

  “What is it?” Alex asked in concern.

  “Alex, will you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Can we spend the holidays at home alone this year?”

  My question made Alex laugh. Soon I was laughing with him as he bent forward to put his arms back around me. I sighed in relief while enjoying the warmth of him.

  About the Author

  Melanie Jackson is the author of over 50 novels. If you enjoyed this story, please visit Melanie’s author web site at www.melaniejackson.com.

  eBooks by Melanie Jackson:

  The Chloe Boston Mystery Series:

  Moving Violation

  The Pumpkin Thief

  Death in a Turkey Town

  Murder on Parade

  Cupid’s Revenge

  Viva Lost Vegas

  Death of a Dumb Bunny

  Red, White and a Dog Named Blue

  Haunted

  The Great Pumpkin Caper

  Beast of a Feast

  Snow Angel

  The Butterscotch Jones Mystery Series

  Due North

  Big Bones

  Gone South

  Home Fires (Coming Soon)

  The Wendover House Mystery Series

  The Secret Staircase

  Wildside Series

  Outsiders

  Courier

  Still Life

  The Book of Dreams Series:

  The First Book of Dreams: Metropolis

  The Second Book of Dreams: Meridian

  The Third Book of Dreams: Destiny

  Medicine Trilogy

  Bad Medicine

  Medicine Man

  Knave of Hearts

  Club Valhalla

  Devil of Bodmin Moor

  Devil of the Highlands

  Devil in a Red Coat

  Halloween

  The Curiosity Shoppe (Sequel to A Curious Affair)

  Timeless

  Nevermore: The Last Divine Book