Murder in D Minor Boxed Set

by Virginia Smith

  Tim spared a glance at Goins’ and Farmer’s uniforms and boots. Solid work boots, great for riding around in a cruiser and for walking on packed powder. But they’d sink up to their knees in the soft snow between the trees, and those cotton uniform trousers weren’t very thick.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tim stepped off the firm ski run toward the trees. The ungroomed snow gave under his weight. He moved gingerly, feeling the snow scrunch beneath his thick rubber soles, staying several feet away from the track left by what he was convinced was a snowboard carrying a body. Between the trees, the swath of smoothed snow was clearer, easier to identify.

  “We need to get a camera in here,” he called back toward the sheriff. “The trail is well defined.”

  “I’m on it,” Daniels answered.

  Tim continued. This line of trees dividing two ski runs was wide, at least a couple hundred feet across, and the pine trees grew thick. Within a few feet he came across a narrow ski trail, the snow packed by skiers gliding through the trees on their way to the bottom of Crested Eagle, or maybe down to the lodge. The prints he followed disappeared over the trail, but picked up again in the loose snow on the other side. Tim ducked under a low-hanging branch and kept going.

  Through the center of the dense patch of forest ran another ski trail, this one even narrower than the first. Tim had used it to cross from one ski run to the other when he’d skied this resort, though most skiers preferred the safety of the wide-open slopes. Only experts risked the danger of skiing in the trees. An out-of-control skier could smack into a trunk and be severely injured or even killed. It had happened more than once. Tim liked tree skiing because of the softer snow, and the privacy the deep foliage provided. The pine boughs also created a natural sound barrier. Skiing in the trees, you could almost imagine you had the mountain to yourself.

  Something unnatural caught his eye up ahead. Anticipation prickled the skin beneath the collar of his ski suit. Was that a pole? He hurried forward, careful to keep a safe distance between him and the item that had snagged his attention. As he drew near, he saw that it was, indeed, a ski pole standing upright, the tip planted in the snow. On the ground beside it rested its mate. And leaning neatly against the nearest tree, as though placed there in anticipation of their owners’ return, stood a pair of Salomon X-Wings.

  The track he’d been following ended just beyond the skis, in a wide spot in the trail. A quick glance around the small clearing settled a sick feeling in his stomach and confirmed his suspicion. This is where their dead guy had met his end.

  He turned his head to shout over his shoulder in the direction of the sheriff. “I found it.”

  Daniels’s voice came to him from the distance, muffled by the trees. “Found what?”

  Acid churned in Tim’s stomach as he stared at the unmistakable evidence before him. Blood-soaked snow and a blood-splattered tree trunk left no doubt.

  “I found the murder scene.”

  TEN

  “That was delicious.” Liz slid her jacket zipper all the way up to her neck when a cold breeze slapped her in the face. They’d just left the restaurant Debbie had hired to cater the reception.

  “Quite acceptable.” Grandma hooked a hand through Liz’s arm as they prepared to cross Main Street. “Though I’m sure the prices are far too high.”

  Liz glanced toward Debbie, who simply lifted a shoulder. She’d insisted on ordering for them, then grabbed the check and refused to show Grandma. Liz knew she didn’t want to put up with the complaints that would surely have followed.

  Liz changed the subject to head off any pointed questions.

  “I still can’t believe you talked Mr. Cole down to almost half price on that bracelet.” Liz gave her grandmother an admiring glance as they walked up the steep sidewalk.

  “You robbed him.” Debbie, walking on the other side of Grandma, managed to look disapproving and impressed at the same time.

  Grandma tilted her chin upward. “Nonsense. He made a nice profit on the deal. I’m sure his markup on those pieces is ridiculous. How much did they cost to produce? Just the price of the gold and the gemstones.”

  “And hours and hours of labor.” Debbie’s eyes clouded as she shook her head. “I hope he wasn’t offended. He’s really an artist. It must be terrible to bargain down on something you’ve spent hours creating.”

  “Nonsense,” Grandma repeated. “He’s pleased to find an admiring audience for his work. Think of the publicity he’ll receive when I wear my bracelet and tell everyone where I got it.” She patted the handbag hanging from the crook of her arm with a gloved hand.

  Debbie looked like she wasn’t ready to let the argument drop. She opened her mouth, but Liz gave her a stern glance over the top of Grandma’s leopard-print fleece hat. Their elderly relative actually wore a satisfied smile. Why risk a return of the harangue?

  Debbie must have sensed her reasoning. She shut her mouth.

  Liz glanced into the store windows they passed. Many new shops had opened since she was here last. Her favorite art gallery had been replaced by a Western wear clothing store that boasted a display of suede, boots and rhinestone-studded blouses in the front window.

  She spoke without thinking. “Things sure have changed since Tim and I hung out here.”

  Grandma snorted. “They certainly have. A lot of things. I must say, I was surprised you could hold your head up this morning after the shameless way you ended your engagement to that poor boy.”

  Liz’s cheeks stung as though she’d been slapped. This was exactly why she’d dreaded this trip. Bad enough she had to face Tim. Why must her own grandmother constantly throw her sins in her face, as well?

  “Grandma!” Debbie’s tone was sharper than Liz had ever heard it. “Would you leave Liz alone? I’m sure coming back to Utah was hard enough as it is. She doesn’t need us making it harder.”

  Loyal Debbie. Liz sniffed, thankful for the cold breeze that might explain the tears prickling in her eyes. “What do you think I should have done, Grandma? Like Debbie said this morning, marriage is a huge commitment.”

  “Of course it is. We Carmichaels have never had a divorce in our family.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked sideways at Liz. “And we never will.”

  “I know that.” Liz nodded. “And I didn’t want to be the first. Too many marriages fail these days, even Christian marriages. I see it all the time. I figured it was better to back out of the engagement than risk breaking a lifetime vow to Tim … and to God.”

  There. Maybe Grandma would let the subject drop with that explanation. No need to dredge up the reasons Liz had been concerned that her marriage to Tim wouldn’t last.

  But Grandma was never one to let a barb go unflung.

  The elderly lady stomped forward a few paces, her jaw set. “Well, you certainly could have chosen a better way to end it, that’s all I have to say. Your behavior was shameful.”

  Debbie sucked in a noisy breath. “Grandma, would you stop throwing Liz’s past in her face? Let it go.”

  Mouth pursed, Grandma gave a single nod and fell silent. Liz tried to give her cousin a grateful look, but Debbie wouldn’t meet her gaze. She stared straight ahead, her lips tight. Guilt turned the good lunch into concrete in Liz’s stomach. Debbie might defend her loyally, but Liz knew her cousin had never understood why she broke off her engagement to Tim. And she definitely didn’t approve of the way it had come about.

  Of course, Liz didn’t blame her for that. What kind of heartless person dumped a guy for his friend?

  ELEVEN

  “Right through there, boys. Those snowmobiles will take you up to the site.”

  Tim stepped out of the way as the county medical examiners followed the sheriff’s directions through the lodge toward the rear exit. He’d just finished filling out the required paperwork, detailing the events of the morning. Sheriff Daniels held it in his hand, and kept rolling it absently into a tube.

  The Harrisons stood nearby, anxiety apparent in their wor
ried expressions and tightly clasped hands. When the MEs had filed past, each carrying a bulky equipment bag, the resort owners hurried toward the sheriff.

  “How long will it be before we can reopen the slopes?” Mrs. Harrison’s voice quivered as she looked up at the big man.

  Sheriff Daniels’s expression remained impassive. “We’ll work as fast as we can. If all goes well, you should be back in business by Friday.”

  She clutched at her husband’s arm. “But that’s two days away.”

  A stab of sympathy shot through Tim. “That’s the worst-case scenario, ma’am. They might finish up today, and then you’ll be able to reopen tomorrow.”

  Tim glanced at the sheriff for confirmation. He gave a single nod.

  Mr. Harrison’s throat moved as he swallowed. “Let’s hope so.”

  A voice intruded on their conversation from the direction of the front desk. “Our package included lodging and five days’ worth of lift tickets. That’s what it said in the ad. Now, what are you going to do about it?”

  Tim turned to see a man and woman in ski gear glaring across the counter at the desk clerk.

  Mrs. Harrison moaned, and Mr. Harrison patted her arm. “I’ll take care of it.” He hurried away to rescue the harried-looking clerk and soothe his angry customers.

  Her eyes followed her husband. “We’re buying them all lift tickets to one of the other resorts, and offering a free shuttle to anyone staying here.” Deep lines creased her brow as she looked at Tim. “But we can’t afford to do that for more than one day.”

  The Harrisons’ preoccupation with finances had struck Tim as a bit mercenary at first, but looking into her worried face now, he realized their financial situation must be dire. They weren’t unsympathetic, just concerned for their business, their livelihood.

  If only there was some comfort he could offer. He wanted to tell her he would pray for her and her husband, but with the sheriff’s hulking presence, he didn’t think that would be appropriate. Instead, he plastered on a confident smile. “I’m sure they’re working as fast as they can. Don’t lose hope.”

  She gave a distracted nod. “I’d better get back to the ticket office. My team is probably pulling their hair out, dealing with all those angry skiers.” She hurried in the direction of the back door.

  The sheriff shook his head as he watched her go. “I sure feel sorry for those folks. Hope we can wrap this up today.”

  Tim’s nod followed the MEs. “Think they’ll be able to tell us anything quickly?”

  “Nah. It got down close to zero last night. Probably colder in a chair forty feet off the ground. Body’s frozen solid. Makes pinpointing the time of death nearly impossible. We’re going to have to wait for the autopsy to find out anything for sure.”

  “Well, let’s hope we can get an ID from his prints through BCI.”

  The Bureau of Criminal Investigation was the best chance for identifying the victim quickly. A careful search of the body had revealed no identification of any kind. The lift ticket attached to his ski jacket was an afternoon, half-day pass purchased yesterday at the Eagle Summit ticket window. The resort used the old-fashioned method of punching a hole in the ticket as a skier loaded the first lift of the day, so there were no electronic scanning systems to see when the man arrived.

  Sheriff Daniels’s eyes narrowed as he looked sideways at Tim. “What are you still doing here, Richards? Supposed to be your day off, isn’t it?”

  “I thought I’d stick around for a while, you know?” Tim lifted a shoulder. “See if I can be useful.”

  The sheriff clapped him on the back. “You’ve been useful enough. I appreciate your help, son. But I’ve got your report, and if we need any more information from you, I know how to get ahold of you. Now get out of here. Go ski, or board or whatever you were planning to do today.”

  Ryan had sent Tim several text messages asking when he was going to meet up with the guys. He felt guilty for ditching his best friend, but this was the department’s first murder investigation since Tim became a deputy. A far cry from the car burglaries and security alarm calls he normally took. Gruesome though it might sound, he kind of hated to miss out on it. But the sheriff obviously didn’t need him hanging around.

  He nodded. “I guess I’ll take off, then. Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “Good timing, son.” Daniels nodded toward the lodge entrance.

  Tim turned, and through the doors he saw a white van with an unmistakable antenna on top come to a stop beside the sheriff’s Durango, still parked beneath the awning. The side door slid open and a man carrying a large camera on his shoulder jumped out.

  “The circus is about to begin.” The sheriff straightened his collar, his eyes on the reporter headed his way.

  Some aspects of police work held no appeal for Tim, and television interviews topped the list. It suited him just fine to leave that job to Sheriff Daniels.

  He lifted a hand in farewell. “I’m outta here. Call if you need me.”

  As he left, he held the door open for the cameraman and an eager-looking woman holding a microphone. Having caught sight of Sheriff Daniels inside, they hurried by him without a second glance.

  Tim escaped to his truck, glad for the anonymity of his ski suit.

  Liz followed Debbie down the hallway to her condo, cradling the bottom half of the wedding dress. The garment was safely zipped in a special bag to protect it from stains, but the wedding gown consultant had cautioned them that the delicate organza and satin would be easily crushed or creased, and they shouldn’t let it drag. In her other hand, Liz carried the crinoline, which she held high above her head. Her arms ached with the strain. Who’d notice a crease in the crinoline, anyway? But after a whole day with Grandma, her normally even-tempered cousin was starting to show signs of strain, so Liz had decided to do as she was told and keep her opinions to herself.

  “I had no idea wedding dresses were this heavy,” she commented as Debbie stopped before her door.

  “I know. Imagine what I’m going to feel like by Saturday night, walking around with that thing on.”

  “You look beautiful in it, though.”

  Debbie flashed an eager smile as she fished the key out of her purse. “Do you really think so? It doesn’t make me look fat?”

  Liz laughed. “Like you could ever look fat. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride ever, and I’ve seen a lot of them.”

  Gratitude deepened Debbie’s smile. “Thanks, Liz. I just wish you were one of my bridesmaids.”

  “No way. We agreed years ago, when we were kids, that I’d play my cello at your wedding and you’d sing at mine.” She hefted the crinoline higher, trying to find a new position for her aching shoulder muscles. “Besides, I look awful in pink, you know that.”

  “You do not.” Debbie fitted the key into the lock, twisted and pushed the door open. “Besides, if you’d been one of the bridesmaids, I would have chosen blue, to match your eyes.” She stopped. “By the way, I am not going to ruin my dress with that hideous pin. So you just make sure you hold on to it until after the ceremony, okay? Then I’ll put it on for one picture to keep Grandma happy.”

  Debbie had never liked the heirloom brooch. But then again, Debbie wasn’t into jewelry, as Liz had always been.

  Liz grinned. “You’ve got a deal.”

  They stepped inside the condo and Liz followed her cousin into the bedroom. The dress and the crinoline filled half of the empty closet. Debbie fussed with the bags, making sure they hung straight, while Liz dropped onto one of the double beds.

  “Will the rest of the girls be here tonight?”

  “Uh-huh.” Debbie ran a hand down the bag one last time, then turned. “They had to work today, so they’ll miss dinner, but they’re going to meet us over at The Java Hut later.”

  Liz threw herself backward across the bed and covered her eyes with an arm. “I halfway wish I could miss dinner tonight, too. When did Grandma get to be so cranky?”

  “What are you talking
about?” The mattress heaved as Debbie dropped onto the bed beside her. “She’s always been cranky.”

  “No, she’s worse than she used to be.” Liz moved her arm to look at her cousin.

  Debbie’s expression grew cautious. “Honestly? It’s that stupid pin. She’s been obsessing about it for weeks.”

  Liz let out a disgusted grunt and sat up. “I tried to give it back to her when Tim and I broke up. She wouldn’t take it.” She plucked at a loose thread on the comforter. “It’s not my fault she gave it to me too early.”

  Her tone came out whinier than she intended. When Debbie covered her hand and squeezed, she looked up into a sympathetic smile.

  “Have you ever wondered if you made a mistake? Especially when …” She bit her lower lip and looked away. “You know.”

  Liz did know. “You mean especially when I got dumped just a month later?” She let out a harsh blast of laughter. “I got what I deserved, didn’t I? I’m sure everybody said so.”

  She didn’t mean the words to sound so bitter, but a flood of unpleasant emotions she’d worked hard to ignore for three years was threatening to slip past her carefully erected barrier. She launched herself off the bed. Now was not the time to deal with those feelings.

  “Liz, I never said that.”

  Something in Liz’s chest loosened, and a prickle at the back of her eyes warned of oncoming tears. She could handle accusations and Grandma’s caustic comments, but the compassion in Debbie’s voice was something she couldn’t handle right now.

  She whirled to head toward the doorway. “Listen, I’ve got to check in with my friends. We’re supposed to go over our music before dinner. So I’ll see you at six-thirty in the lobby, right?”

  Silence from Debbie’s direction. Liz turned at the threshold to look at her cousin. Debbie stared across the room, head tilted at an angle as she regarded her open suitcase on the other bed.

  “Six-thirty, okay?” Liz repeated.

  “Yeah, okay.” Debbie raised a finger and placed it over her mouth, still staring at the suitcase, clearly confused about something.