Murder in D Minor Boxed Set

by Virginia Smith

  Debbie froze. Her eyes widened and she looked down at Liz. “Oh, look.” Her voice held a note of strain. “All Ryan’s groomsmen are with him.”

  A sudden panic snatched the breath right out of Liz’s throat. All his groomsmen? Including the best man?

  Tim followed the guys through the front entrance of the lodge, their thick ski suits shush, shush, shushing with every step. He hung toward the back of their small group, half-wishing he’d arranged to meet up with them later at the chairlift. But there was no sense in postponing the inevitable meeting. He was sure to run into Liz sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.

  “There they are.” Ryan lifted a hand to wave at Debbie, then slowed to fall in step with Tim as they crossed the lobby. “Looks like Liz is here. You okay with that?”

  No. Not by a long shot. But what choice do I have?

  Tim forced a casual smile. “Sure. Water under the bridge.”

  Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, dude.”

  As they approached the group by the fireplace, Debbie launched herself into Ryan’s arms and greeted him with an enthusiastic kiss that belied the fact they saw each other several times a week. Tim watched their embrace with a sense of satisfaction. Ryan was his best friend, and one lucky guy. Every man deserved to have a woman who loved him like Debbie loved Ryan.

  He ignored an un-Christian twinge of jealousy. Every man? Even him?

  His gaze swept the group of women seated around the fire. A couple of strangers, Debbie’s grandmother and—

  Pain punched him in the gut. His feet stopped moving.

  Liz sat in a big padded chair, holding on to a coffee mug with both hands. She was staring into her cup, her head tilted forward, so he indulged in a moment looking her over, noting the changes three years had wrought. Her hair had grown long. As he watched, she smoothed it behind a delicate ear. She looked a bit thinner, her neck more slender and elegant. Ah, but that chiseled nose hadn’t changed, and neither had those soft lips he remembered so well.

  Her shoulders rose as she drew in a breath, and in the next moment she looked up. Their gazes locked.

  The breath whooshed out of his lungs.

  She was even more stunning than he remembered.

  Lord, this is not fair. Couldn’t she have gotten uglier?

  Two faint spots of color appeared on her cheeks and she looked away, but not before Tim saw her lips press firmly together. Her shoulders angled slightly away from the group, from him. He’d received some instruction in body language in his law enforcement training, so he recognized the meaning behind her unconscious gesture. She was distancing herself. She didn’t want anything to do with him.

  Tim cleared his throat. If that’s the way she wanted to play it, fine. He rounded the sofa and stood on the other side of the coffee table from Liz and Debbie’s grandmother.

  “Mrs. Carmichael, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  She gave him a warm smile and allowed him to take her hand. “It’s been too long, young man. You should attend church with your parents more often.”

  “Oh, you know how it is when you have to work for a living. I don’t get too many weekends off, and when I do, I have a church up here in Park City I’ve grown fond of.”

  Mrs. Carmichael released his hand and gestured toward the two strangers. “Allow me to introduce these lovely girls.” She inclined her head. “But I’m afraid I’ve already forgotten their names.”

  The blonde seated on the couch beside the elderly lady extended a hand. “I’m Caitlin Saylor. And this is Jasmine Delaney.”

  He shook her hand and reached for the brunette’s as Mrs. Carmichael identified them. “They’re Elizabeth’s musician friends from Kentucky, here to play at Deborah and Ryan’s wedding. Girls, this is Tim Richards, Elizabeth’s former fiancé.”

  The petite brunette’s expression froze as her eyes flicked toward Liz. Then her smile widened artificially. “My friends call me Jazzy. It’s nice to meet you, Tim.”

  “You, too.” Thank goodness his voice sounded normal.

  Mrs. Carmichael nodded at the girls. “Tim is a sheriff here in Park City.”

  “Deputy Sheriff,” he corrected with a grin. “Welcome to Utah.”

  He steeled his expression and turned toward Liz then. “You’re looking well, Liz.”

  A smile flashed onto her lips and disappeared just as quickly, though she didn’t meet his eyes. “You, too, Tim.”

  The sound of her low voice caused Tim’s heart to twist unexpectedly. He steeled himself against the assault of a million memories. Oh, the words that voice used to whisper in his ear.

  Ryan came to his rescue.

  “Liz, long time no see! C’mere and give me a hug.”

  Liz hurriedly set her mug on the table as Ryan pulled her out of the chair and into an embrace.

  “Hey, come meet the guys.”

  Ryan performed the introductions and hands were shaken all around, while Tim stared out the window and battled a million memories the sight of Liz had unearthed.

  He cleared his throat and nodded toward the window. “Hey, look. The lifts are running. Time to get our gear and hit the slopes.”

  Ryan glanced at his watch. “We have fifteen minutes. We’re going to get first tracks this morning, guys. Ought to be some awesome powder after that storm came through yesterday afternoon.”

  Patrick, one of Ryan’s friends from work, started to turn away, then stopped. “Hey, is Jeremy joining us again today?”

  Everyone froze. Debbie bit her lip and cast a wary glance at Tim. Ryan’s eyes widened. Even Mrs. Carmichael stared into her coffee, uncharacteristically silent. Though it took every ounce of control he could muster, Tim forced his face to remain completely impassive. And he did not look at Liz.

  “Uh, not today,” Ryan said. “I think he’s working or something.”

  Thank You, Lord. I don’t think I can handle both of them in one day.

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get ’er done.” Patrick, a newcomer to their group, obviously had no idea of the history he’d just unearthed. And as far as Tim was concerned, he didn’t need to know. Like he told Ryan earlier, that was water under the bridge.

  “Yeah,” Tim agreed, “let’s get going.” He nodded toward Mrs. Carmichael and the girls, and continued to ignore Liz as he walked away.

  While the guys headed for the door, Ryan pulled him aside. “Hey, dude, I hope you don’t mind that Jeremy hung out with us yesterday. I wouldn’t have asked him if you’d been along. You know that, right?”

  Tim forced a laugh. “What is this, grade school? You can hang out with whoever you want. I’m your friend no matter what.” He grinned. “Even if you do have really bad taste in choosing the rest of your friends.”

  Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

  A figure ran across the courtyard beyond the big windows by the fireplace, and a moment later a teenager in full winter gear ran into the lobby. He left a trail of snow on the tiled floor from his snowboarding boots as he jogged toward the front desk. His voice, pitched high with excitement, carried across the lobby.

  “Where’s Mr. Harrison?”

  Something in the kid’s tone drew Tim’s attention. He couldn’t hear the reply mumbled by the woman at the desk. But the teenager’s next statement carried clearly to the group by the fireplace.

  “We found a frozen dead guy on the Crested Eagle lift!”

  SIX

  Liz sat straight up in her chair. Did that kid just say …

  A memory surfaced. Last night, standing on the balcony, the figure trudging across the slopes in the moonlight. Later, the chairlift starting to move. Had she seen the man moments before he caught a lift ride to his death?

  She turned in time to see the woman at the front desk point toward the coffee shop. The teenager ran across the lobby and dashed through the door.

  “Did you hear that?” Debbie’s round eyes swept the group around the fireplace.

 
“I certainly did.” Grandma grabbed Debbie’s hand over the back of the couch. “Deborah, we must find another location for the wedding immediately, though where we’ll find someplace suitable on such short notice is beyond me. I’ll call Reverend Bowers and see if he can free up the sanctuary.”

  Debbie shook her head, confusion creasing her forehead. “Why do we need to move the wedding?”

  Grandma’s nostrils flared. “You can’t have a wedding on a property where a death has just occurred!”

  Ryan returned to the group. Liz looked up in time to see Tim disappear into the coffee shop.

  “Tim’s going to see if he can help,” Ryan told them. “He’ll join us on the slopes after the sheriff gets here.”

  Startled, Liz’s gaze flew to Ryan’s face. “The sheriff? Why?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Routine, I guess. A death at a local business probably needs an official statement or something. And somebody has to notify the next of kin and all that.”

  Debbie looked up into his face. “Do you think we should move the wedding?”

  Ryan put an arm around her waist and squeezed. “No. This place is just what we wanted for our big day.” He lowered his voice. “But I don’t think we’ll ski here today. I’m sure they’ll have to close that lift for a while, and that will shut down all the runs it services.”

  Debbie looked at Jazzy. “If you’re still planning on skiing today you might want to go with the guys.”

  “You’re welcome to join us,” Ryan said. “We’ll probably head over to Park City Mountain.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Jazzy said, and Caitlin nodded. “I’ve never been on skis, so I can learn there as well as here.”

  “Park City Mountain’s ski school is really good,” Debbie said. “You can sign up for a lesson when you buy your lift ticket.”

  The sight of that figure carrying a snowboard across the snow would not leave Liz’s mind. She really didn’t want to go into that coffee shop with Tim in there, but what if she was the only one who had witnessed the dead person’s final moments? She stood abruptly. Everyone looked at her.

  “I need to talk to Mr. Harrison,” she said.

  Grandma’s voice followed her. “We have a schedule to keep today!”

  “I’ll only be a minute.”

  Liz stepped through the open doorway in time to hear the end of the teenager’s account. Tim glanced at her once, then returned his attention to the kid. Thank goodness. Even that brief glance made her want to scurry for cover, like a bug on the kitchen floor. She had forgotten how handsome he was. Or maybe she’d just wanted to forget. Either way, she certainly hadn’t anticipated feeling a surge of attraction when she saw him again, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “… and Cameron said he thought it was a joke, you know? Like the time Dawson dressed up his mom’s sewing dummy in ski clothes and sent it up the lift. But when Cameron tried to pull it off, he saw it wasn’t no dummy.” The kid’s eyes went round. “It was a dead guy.”

  Mr. Harrison emitted a strangled moan.

  “Where is the body now?” Tim’s voice held an authoritative note that Liz had never heard. Of course, he had become a deputy after she moved to Kentucky, so she’d never seen him in an official capacity. His steady tone acted as a calming counterpoint to the teenager’s shrill delivery.

  “Up at the top of the lift, lying on the unloading ramp. It fell off the chair when Cameron jerked it.” He included Liz in his explanation. A patch of stark white skin surrounded his eyes like a mask on his deeply tanned face, caused by hours in the sun wearing ski goggles. He looked back at Mr. Harrison. “He called the base, and Mrs. Harrison sent the ski patrol over there. Then she told me to come tell you, because you didn’t answer your cell phone.”

  “It’s back in my office.” Mr. Harrison’s expression became apprehensive. “Did Cameron say who it was?”

  The teen shrugged. “He didn’t say.”

  Tim unzipped the breast pocket of his ski suit and pulled out a cell phone. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  The resort owner started visibly, then gave a resigned nod. “Thank you, Brandon. Tell Mrs. Harrison we’ll need a couple of snowmobiles when the sheriff arrives.”

  Brandon nodded and left, leaving Liz alone with Mr. Harrison … and Tim. He spoke into his phone in curt, clipped sentences. Mr. Harrison watched from his position on the other side of the counter, while Liz stood next to Tim, so close she could smell the subtle scent of his aftershave. He was still wearing the same brand he’d worn in college. She took a sideways step, putting a comfortable distance between her and her ex-fiancé.

  Tim disconnected the call and dropped it back into his pocket. Only then did he finally look at her, his expression politely blank. “Did you need something?”

  “I—” Liz cleared her throat. “I might have seen something. Last night. Uh, I mean this morning. Early.” Unable to hold his gaze, she addressed Mr. Harrison as she described her late-night episode on the balcony.

  “Let me get this straight,” Tim interrupted. “You saw a man walking up the slope in the middle of the night, and you didn’t think that was odd?”

  “At first I thought he might be a local looking for loot dropped from skiers on the lift, you know?” She avoided looking at him, not wanting him to see that she was remembering how they’d done that a couple of times themselves, searching for lost treasures by the light of the moon.

  “Locals don’t typically turn on the chairlifts.”

  His cool, professional tone sent heat to Liz’s face. “When the lift started running, I figured it was an employee doing an equipment check or something.”

  “At one-thirty in the morning?”

  “Some employees have to work late into the night, especially at the resorts with night skiing.” She hated that her voice sounded defensive.

  “Eagle Summit doesn’t have night skiing,” Tim said.

  “Well, how was I to know that?” she shot back. “I’ve been gone three years, you know.”

  “I know.” His mouth clamped shut on the last word.

  “Do you think the deceased is an employee?” Mr. Harrison seemed alarmed at the thought. “Surely not. It must be a snowboarder who snuck by the lift operator during the final sweep yesterday, trying to get in one last run. At least—” he paused to swallow hard “—that’s what I thought until I heard Miss Carmichael’s story.”

  Tim nodded. “We’ll need to pull the daily logs and verify that the operators on duty yesterday recorded a good last chair, but if what Liz says is true, I’m guessing the end-of-day procedures will all check out.”

  “Maybe it was somebody trying to do a little unauthorized night skiing,” Liz suggested. “Some of those extreme boarders are crazy, you know.”

  Liz snapped her mouth shut. No need to remind Tim about the nature of snowboarders. He had been an extreme snowboarder and skier during college. He’d skied anything and everything that had even a thin layer of snow, inbounds if he had to, out of bounds preferably. He and his buddies had worked as part-time lift operators, not for the pay, but for the free lift passes.

  Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut and resist the urge to remind Tim of the past? For some crazy reason Liz wanted to jab at him, to cut through that professional mask and get a glimpse of the Tim she knew so well.

  Tim ignored the jab. From the corner of her eye she saw him watching her, but she refused to look at him. Instead, she focused her attention on Mr. Harrison.

  The poor guy looked as if he might faint. He bent at the waist and planted his elbows on the counter to drop his forehead onto his hands. “This is terrible. Think of the publicity.”

  Odd reaction, considering someone had died. “Publicity?” Liz asked.

  The resort owner nodded without raising his head. “I know, I know. What a self-centered response, and completely mercenary. Some poor man froze to death right here on our property. I’m sorry for him and his family, I really am. But do you know what this is goin
g to do to us?” He tilted his head to look up at her without straightening. “We’re barely making our payroll as it is. If word of a death at Eagle Summit gets out, who’s going to want to ski here? This could sink us.”

  At the sound of rustling behind her, Liz turned in time to see Grandma stride through the door. The outrage on her face sent Liz backward ten years to the time she and Debbie were fifteen-year-olds caught joyriding around the neighborhood in Grandma’s new Buick. Thank goodness Grandma had another target in her sights at the moment. Though Liz felt sorry for Mr. Harrison.

  Grandma planted herself inside the doorway and speared the resort owner with a searing gaze. “Young man, I’d like a word with you.”

  The man straightened and managed to look like an aging delinquent in a suit and tie. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “My granddaughter has decided to ignore my advice about moving the wedding to a more suitable location.” A single flare of her nostrils left no doubt as to her opinion on that matter. “So it appears the wedding party will be staying here after all, as arranged.”

  Mr. Harrison let out a quiet sigh. “I appreciate that, Mrs. Carmichael.”

  “I’m sure you do. However, I just attempted to check in and was told by the impertinent girl at the front desk that a room won’t be available until four o’clock.” She brought her wrist up before her face to glance at her watch in a deliberate gesture. “That is eight hours from now. Unacceptable, sir. Quite unacceptable.”

  Mr. Harrison hurried around the counter. “A misunderstanding, madam. I assure you, your suite is ready, and I think you’ll be pleased with it. I’ve personally selected all the accommodations for the bridal party, the best the lodge has to offer. I’ll make sure the staff understands you and your guests are to receive VIP treatment.”

  “Hmmph.” Grandma’s sniff indicated her willingness to be mollified, especially if she could enjoy VIP status. She caught Liz in her gaze. “When you’re finished here, Elizabeth, join Deborah and me in my suite. And don’t be too long.”

  She followed Mr. Harrison out of the shop, leaving Liz and Tim alone. Five awkward seconds was all Liz could handle before she headed for the exit.