Wilde Thing

by Jannine Gallant

  “Not very damn likely.”

  One thing was certain, when he caught up to that van, he’d get some answers.

  * * * *

  Hannah leaned against the driver’s side door as her stepfather approached. When he reached the car, he squeezed her shoulder.

  “How are you, girl? You’ll never guess who called me the other day…or did she mention our conversation?”

  “Uh, I’m fine, but I’m not sure who you’re talking about.” Hannah edged away.

  “Your mother. She wanted to know if I’d seen Monica Wright. I had since we were in a couple of meetings together hammering out financing issues for my new hotel and conference center. I guess Monica’s gone missing.”

  “Mom called me about her.” She raised a brow. “Monica hasn’t surfaced yet?”

  “Apparently not.” Luther tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and stepped back. “Are you still dating that extreme skier?”

  Warmth settled around her heart despite the freezing temperature. She and Tripp had been officially involved for three days now. The concept still seemed a little strange, but she was determined to do her best to make this new, personal relationship between them work.

  “Yes.”

  Speaking of Tripp… She turned to glance toward the road as a steady stream of cars cruised into town. No white van yet. How many minutes had passed? She’d lost track.

  “Wilde doesn’t seem like your type, but I know how stubborn you can be. If you set your mind to something, you don’t give up.”

  “No, I don’t.” She gave him a half-smile. “Commitment is important to me. Once I make a decision, I follow through. Look, I hate to rush off, but…” She pulled open her car door.

  “I’m meeting someone, anyway. Just stopped to grab a pack of smokes.” He raised a hand. “Good to see you, Hannah.”

  “Yeah, you too.” She slipped onto the driver’s seat and gave in to an eye roll as Luther walked away then shut the door and started the engine. Surely four minutes had come and gone… Was that a white van? She shifted the car into gear and pulled up to the parking lot exit as the vehicle approached. A minivan, not the older panel job she remembered from the ski area. Had she missed seeing it?

  Another flash of white beneath the streetlight some distance away caught her eye.

  “Jackpot!” She jerked her phone out of her purse to call Tripp.

  He didn’t bother with a greeting. “Do you see the van?”

  “Yes, it’s headed straight through town, not down the West Shore. Damn, the light just changed, and I can’t get across the street to follow it.”

  “Shit! I’m maybe thirty seconds away. Do your best—”

  Hannah dropped the cell on the seat and bolted through a break in traffic. Heart pounding, she edged out of the turn lane and crossed the intersection just as the light turned from yellow to red. Her hand shook when she reached for the phone.

  “I’m lucky I didn’t get broadsided with that maneuver!”

  Tripp let out a long breath. “Are you behind him?”

  “A few cars back. Where are you?”

  “Almost to the light. What’s he doing?”

  “Nothing. Wait, he’s getting into the left turn lane.” She flipped on her blinker. “He just headed into the neighborhood by the elementary school. Damn it!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Hannah smacked the steering wheel then juggled the phone to engage the speaker and set it on the dash. “Cars are coming. I can’t turn. Oh geez, he just disappeared down the first side street.”

  “Maybe he’ll park on the road. Cross when you can.”

  Hannah gunned the engine and zipped between an SUV and a sedan. “I made it.” She turned down the lane where the van had disappeared then stopped at the first intersection, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of white. “I don’t see him.”

  “That neighborhood isn’t very big. Head up the first street, and I’ll take the second. I’m almost there.”

  “Okay.” She turned left then drove slowly up the hill, keeping an eye out for movement. “I don’t see the van anywhere, Tripp.”

  “Hell. I’m in the neighborhood now and not having any luck, either. Looks like there’s a party going on up ahead.”

  Hannah reached the top of the hill and made a three-point-turn in the tight cul-de-sac then headed back down. “If he came up this street, he must have pulled into a garage. There’s no one around.” When he didn’t respond, she frowned. “Tripp?”

  “Hey, can you tell me if someone with an older white panel van lives around here.” Tripp’s voice came from a distance, followed by a response too far away to hear. “Thanks, anyway.”

  “Tripp?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you learn anything?”

  “No, the guy was going to a party at a friend’s.” He let out a sigh. “Apparently my tailing skills suck. Unless the van is parked on Jackpine, this turned out to be a total bust.”

  “Do you want me to check? I’m almost to the bottom of the hill now.”

  “No, I’ll cross over at the top of Red Cedar and come down that way. You might as well head home.”

  “Are you sure? If you see him…”

  “I’m not stupid enough to accuse the guy of murder. I just want to find out who he is. If the body they found—”

  Hannah slammed on the brakes. “What body?”

  “The one that turned up in a ravine at Squaw today. Wait, I think I see…damn.”

  Her heartbeat quickened. “What is it?”

  “A van, but not the one we’re looking for. If the guy is in this neighborhood, he didn’t park anywhere visible. Shit!”

  Hannah took her foot off the brake. “I guess I’ll see you back at my house, and you can explain about the body you keep referring to. You’re making me crazy.”

  “Sorry.” He let out a rush of breath. “I need to shower and change first.” His voice held a frustrated edge. “I’ll come over a little after six if that works for you.”

  “Six is fine. See you then.”

  Hannah picked up her phone then slid it into her purse. Checking for traffic, she turned back onto the main street and drove through town, her mind spinning. Whose body had they found? The person they’d seen pushed from the chairlift? Or some skier who’d disappeared off the beaten track and fallen into a ravine? Surely news of a lost skier would have spread all over town within hours.

  No point in speculating until she had some facts. Turning on the radio, she tried some cheerful pop music to drown out thoughts of dead bodies. The ploy didn’t work. She was still a bundle of nerves when she reached her house, flipped on the porch light and let Winnie out to run around while she carried the groceries into the kitchen. By the time she’d put away the food, fed her dog and started prepping taco ingredients, she glanced at her watch every two minutes.

  Where the hell is Tripp?

  When tires crunched on the snow in her driveway, she ran to the window. Not Tripp’s pickup. Who the heck… A middle-aged man with a drooping mustache wearing a sheriff’s uniform stepped out of the vehicle then headed up the path to the front steps. Hannah pressed a hand to her chest, nearly hyperventilating. This can’t be good… When a sharp rap sounded, Winnie broke into a barking frenzy. She forced her feet to move, grabbed the dog by the collar and opened the door.

  “Hannah Ryder?”

  She nodded. “What’s wrong?” Her voice shook. “Has something happened?”

  His direct brown gaze softened. “I’m Sheriff Barnes. No reason to be upset. I just need to ask you a few questions. May I come in?”

  “Of course.” She dragged Winnie away, pushed her into the bedroom then shut the door. “Please have a seat. How can I help you?”

  “I have a few questions about the events at Squaw Valley while you were up on the mountain last Friday.” He pulled out a notebook and pen. “Can we start with your full name and contact information?�
��

  She dropped onto the edge of the couch and let out a relieved breath. Nothing had happened to someone she cared about. Thank God. “You want to know about the person we saw fall off the chairlift?”

  “Yes, if that’s what occurred.”

  When headlights flashed to reflect off the living room window, Hannah jumped up. “That’ll be Tripp now. He was with me last Friday.”

  Sheriff Barnes glanced toward the window as a car door slammed. “I guess this will save me driving over to speak to Mr. Wilde.”

  She nodded then hurried over to the door and reached for the handle just as it opened.

  Tripp stepped inside. “Hannah?” His gaze shot to the sheriff standing a few yards away. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fine…sort of.” When he moved closer to slip an arm around her waist, she leaned against him. “Sheriff Barnes wants to hear about the person we saw fall off the chairlift.”

  “About damn time someone believed we aren’t delusional.” He snorted. “Amazing what a dead body does for your credibility.”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully well informed. Have a seat, Mr. Wilde. Seems to me we have a lot to talk about.”

  Chapter 10

  Taking Hannah by the hand, Tripp pulled her along with him to the couch. Once they were seated, Sheriff Barnes took the chair opposite and jotted down their contact information. Then he leaned back to level a steady gaze on Tripp.

  “Want to tell me how you knew about the body that was found today?”

  “I was having a beer with my buddy after skiing when one of the patrolmen, Frank Cronk, let it slip. The guy was shaken up from seeing the…remains…and needed to blow off a little steam.”

  The sheriff grimaced. “Perfect. Half the town probably knows by now.”

  “No, he only mentioned it to me and Jake. We promised to keep quiet until the news was officially released. Don’t imagine that applies to you, though.” He squeezed Hannah’s hand when she pressed closer to his side. “Has the body been identified?”

  “Not yet. Let’s get back to what happened last Friday. Ms. Ryder, I’d like to hear your version first since I’m pretty certain Mr. Wilde will be more than willing to elaborate on any details you might leave out.”

  Tripp settled back against the cushions. “An accurate read. You’re obviously good at what you do. Tell him what happened, Hannah. I assume the sheriff will be more inclined to believe your account isn’t exaggerated.”

  She drew in a breath then released it slowly. “We were skiing on KT-22 last Friday at the end of the day. Clouds had come in, and it was getting pretty dark. When Tripp jogged my attention and pointed toward the Olympic Lady line, I glanced that way and saw something fall from the last occupied chair.” Her grip on his hand tightened. “We were quite a distance away, but the object looked like…a person.”

  Sheriff Barnes turned his full attention on Tripp. “What made you notice that particular chair in the first place?”

  “Movement. There were two other occupied chairs a ways in front of the final one, but movement on that chair caught my eye before the person fell. My first thought was kids goofing around the way they do sometimes, but the skier who got off at the top was an adult.”

  “I read the report ski patrol took from you. Let’s go through the sequence of events. I want every detail.” His brown eyes held steady. “If it was growing dark and hard to see any distance, why are you so sure the object that fell was a body and not a snowboard or a bag? I gather that was ski patrol’s theory when they didn’t find anything on the ground beneath the lift line.”

  “Because I’m ninety percent certain there were two people on that chair when the movement first caught my eye. Possibly a struggle of some sort before one of them tumbled off—or was pushed.”

  “You didn’t hear anything? No one called out? This person who fell a hundred yards or more didn’t scream?”

  Tripp gritted his teeth and shook his head. “No.”

  Barnes glanced over at Hannah. “You didn’t hear anything, either?”

  “No, but if the man left on the chair had hit the person, maybe he was unconscious when he fell.”

  “Or she.” Tripp eyed the sheriff. “The patrolman mentioned the body they found was a woman.”

  “Until they identify the victim, I’m not at liberty to confirm or deny anything.” He shifted on the chair. “Let’s get back to your actions after you saw this…object…fall from the chair.”

  “I skied down to help the person. I searched the area where the body would have landed but didn’t discover anything except a depression left in the snow along with ski tracks.”

  Hannah nodded. “We told the lift shack attendant what happened, and while we were talking to him, I saw a flash of blue up on the slope above us. I thought it was probably a skier but didn’t get a good look.”

  “So, at that point you skied to the bottom of the hill to report the incident to ski patrol instead of staying put at the lift shack?”

  “Yes.” Tripp frowned. “I thought if I could catch up to the skier Hannah noticed, I could ask him if he saw anything.”

  “And did you see this person again?” The sheriff jotted something in his notebook then glanced up.

  “Not right away. I spoke to a boarder I know slightly. Carrie was on the first occupied chair on the line.”

  “Last name?”

  Tripp shrugged. “I don’t know it, but I could ask mutual friends to find out.”

  “What did this woman have to say?”

  “The guy on the chair behind her skied past while she was up on the mountain. Brown jacket and dreadlocks. She didn’t recognize him. From a distance, she noticed the final skier after he got off the lift, a man in a black jacket and helmet. She was too far away to identify him.”

  Barnes raised a brow. “Not a blue jacket?”

  “We thought the man in the blue jacket might have retrieved the object that fell.” Hannah glanced toward the bedroom when Winnie let out a couple of sharp barks. “Unless the person left under his or her own steam, someone must have been down below the line to move the body or snowboard or bag or whatever fell.”

  Tripp snorted. “Not if we imagined the whole thing, which is pretty much what ski patrol assumed at the time.”

  The sheriff didn’t respond but jotted a few more notes. “You said you didn’t see the man in the blue jacket right away. What did you mean by that?”

  “After I talked to Carrie, we headed over to the ski patrol office. On the way, we saw two men get into a white panel van and leave the parking area. One had on a black jacket and the other a blue.”

  The sheriff eyed them steadily with his pen poised over the notebook. “Could you identify them?”

  Hannah let out a breath. “Not the man in black. His back was to us. The guy in the blue jacket had a brown beard, but he was still wearing a helmet and goggles.”

  Barnes made a note. “Anything to add, Mr. Wilde?”

  “I saw him again today when I was leaving the ski area. Same van and blue jacket. The guy had his head down and was on the phone so I didn’t get a clear look at his face, but I’m pretty certain it was the same man.”

  Interest glinted in the sheriff’s eyes. “Did you approach him?”

  “I didn’t have time, but I followed the van. Traffic was fairly heavy, so I called Hannah to watch for him coming into town.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I was in the grocery store parking lot when Tripp called me. I tried to keep the van in sight once it drove past but lost him in the neighborhood near the elementary school. He must have pulled into a garage on one of those streets.”

  “You’re certain?” The sheriff’s tone was sharp.

  Tripp scowled. “I suppose he could have driven into the neighborhood on Grove Street then left again down Jackpine while Hannah was looking for him on Pioneer and I was on Red Cedar. I can’t imagine why he would have d
etoured through the neighborhood, though, unless he was simply there to pick someone up.”

  “This man wasn’t anyone either of you know?”

  Tripp gave a negative shake. “Afraid not, but I’d probably recognize him if I ran into him again.”

  “I didn’t see his face well enough to say.” Hannah leaned forward. “What will happen now?”

  Barnes didn’t answer. “I don’t suppose either of you got the license number from the van.”

  “I was never close enough to see the plate. The van was a white, older model. A Ford, I think, though I wouldn’t swear to it.”

  When the sheriff glanced at Hannah, she shook her head. “Sorry, no.”

  Barnes rose to his feet. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch if I have follow-up questions.”

  Tripp stood then walked with him to the door. “Any idea when they’ll release news of the body that was discovered?”

  “Not until after we identify the remains and notify next-of-kin. As I said, I’ll be in touch if I need anything more from you. Until then, just go about your business. I don’t want you looking for that van again.” His eyes narrowed. “Understood?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “Have a nice evening.” The sheriff turned away then headed down the path toward the driveway.

  Tripp shut the door and turned to face Hannah. “Well, that was certainly interesting.”

  “More like awful. God.” She shivered and rubbed her arms before walking over to let Winnie out of the bedroom. “I think he actually believes we saw someone murdered. Why would he have questioned us, otherwise?”

  “He’s covering all his bases. Obviously this isn’t a clear-cut case of a lost skier, or Barnes wouldn’t have come looking for answers from us.” He bent to scratch Winnie’s ears then gave Hannah a hopeful look. “Did you mention tacos before the whole failed car chase happened?”

  “Yes.” She headed into the kitchen. “I had just started prepping dinner when the sheriff showed up.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  Turning away from the refrigerator, she handed him a package of tortillas. “You can heat oil and fry the shells while I cook the meat.”