Murder in D Minor Boxed Set

by Virginia Smith

  Sheriff Daniels nodded, slapped his knees and stood. “Well, my men tried to trail him through the trees, but his tracks disappeared on the next ski run. My guess is the guy followed that run down to the base and left the resort with the rest of the crowd. With no identifiable gear …” He lifted a shoulder.

  Tim got to his feet, as well. Liz started to pick up the ice pack so she could stand, too, but the sheriff stopped her with a raised hand.

  “Sit tight, Miss Carmichael. You still have my card?” Liz nodded. “Good. Call me if you think of anything that might be helpful.”

  “I do have one favor to ask, Sheriff. Can we keep this quiet?” Liz cast a pleading glance toward Tim. “I don’t want Debbie or Grandma to know. It will just worry them both, and they don’t need that with the wedding a few days away. Please?”

  The sheriff gave a single nod. “I won’t say a word. You’d just better hope the press doesn’t get wind of it.”

  Tim didn’t respond one way or the other. Liz hoped he’d follow his boss’s cue, though.

  Caitlin walked with him and Sheriff Daniels to the door. “Sheriff, do you think Liz is in any danger? I mean, someone was killed here the night we arrived.”

  The sheriff squinted, then shook his head. “I’m not saying this incident isn’t related. But if it is, the circumstances point to an attacker who follows lone skiers to isolated areas of the mountain.” His gaze swept all three of them. “As long as you ladies stick together, you should be fine.” He dipped his head toward Liz. “Ma’am.”

  With that, he opened the door and left, Tim on his heels.

  When the door closed behind them, Jazzy marched around the sofa and planted herself before Liz, hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell them about your pin?”

  Liz adjusted the ice pack on her knee. Jazzy and Caitlin were her best friends, certainly a safe audience to whom she could confess the tidal wave of emotions she’d felt since returning to Utah and realizing that—she swallowed—that she still loved Tim.

  She wanted to tell her friends about Tim’s kiss, about her certainty that he still loved her. About the consuming guilt she felt every time she thought about how she had hurt him. And how the brooch was all tied up in that guilt. But she couldn’t bring herself to discuss it. Not yet.

  “Because I don’t know for sure that it has anything to do with all this.” Caitlin started to protest, but Liz held up a hand. “Not yet, anyway. But I’m going to find out right now.”

  She tossed the ice bag aside and stood gingerly, testing her weight on her knee. Tender, but not bad. She took a tentative step. If she borrowed some of Jazzy’s ibuprofen she’d be fine.

  “Girls,” she told them, “we have an important errand to run. We’re going to town.”

  Tim pulled the door closed behind him. The sheriff paused in the hallway outside Liz’s door. He stared at the closed door, his cheeks hollow as he chewed the insides.

  “She’s hiding something, Richards.”

  His tone left no hint of doubt, which confirmed Tim’s instincts. The whole time he’d watched his boss question Liz, Tim had been convinced she was holding something back.

  “I thought so, too.” He paused, then felt compelled to defend her, at least a little. “I don’t believe it’s anything really important. At least, she doesn’t think so. Otherwise she’d tell us.”

  Sheriff Daniels nodded. “Agreed. Problem is, she’s not in a position to judge that. I think we need to keep an eye on her.” His gaze slid sideways. “Think you can do that, Richards?”

  A lump of lead dropped into Tim’s stomach. The sheriff was right. Instinct told him Liz was more involved in this messy business than any of them knew—including her. For her own good, she needed someone to watch out for her. But he knew her well enough to know she would resist that suggestion with every ounce of stubborn strength she possessed. Especially if that someone turned out to be him.

  Still, could he actually let the sheriff assign someone else to do surveillance on his ex-fiancée? No way.

  His back straightened. “I can handle it, sir.”

  The sheriff’s lips twitched. “No need to overdo it, Richards. Don’t camp out here in the hallway or anything. Just try to make sure she doesn’t get into any more trouble.” The sheriff turned on his heel and marched toward the elevator.

  Tim hesitated. He cast a glance at Liz’s closed door. No, he wouldn’t camp out in the hallway. But he had a perfect reason to stick close to her. They were both part of the wedding party, which meant they would attend the same events over the next few days.

  He’d make sure she didn’t go anywhere without him, starting this evening. Right after he went home to shower and change.

  SIXTEEN

  Liz stepped inside the jewelry store door just minutes before five o’clock, Caitlin and Jazzy on her heels. She favored her knee only a little, her limp barely noticeable. The door tone announced their presence with a high-pitched beep. The same girl who was here yesterday smiled at them from behind the glass display cases as the door swung closed behind them, cutting off the noise from Main Street.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Is Mr. Cole here?” Liz glanced toward the back room while Jazzy and Caitlin wandered over to one of the display cases lining the door.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Cole is off today. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Can you do an appraisal?” Liz reached into her purse for the jewelry box.

  The girl’s face became apologetic. “I’m sorry. Mr. Cole does all the appraisals. But if you have an item you’d like to leave, I’m sure he can get to it tomorrow.”

  Liz hesitated. It wasn’t like she was planning to wear the brooch tonight. But given the events of the past twenty-four hours, she didn’t feel comfortable leaving it. She glanced at Caitlin, who gave a subtle shake of her head. Her friends agreed.

  “Uh, that’s okay.” She dropped the box back into her purse. “We’ll come back another time.”

  She had almost reached the front door when a male voice spoke behind her.

  “Actually, I’m one of those people who can’t seem to stay away from work, even on my days off. Especially when I have paperwork to do in the back office.”

  She turned to see Mr. Cole stepping between two display cases toward her. Recognition dawned on his features when he caught sight of her.

  “Hello. Miss Carmichael, wasn’t it?”

  Liz nodded, relieved. He remembered her. “That’s right. I was in here yesterday with my cousin.”

  “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry to bother you. I don’t want to impose on your day off.”

  He smiled. “I’m at work, aren’t I? I’d much rather talk to an attractive young woman than stare at inventory and cash flow reports. What can I help you with?”

  Liz glanced at Jazzy and Caitlin. Where to begin?

  “I overheard your conversation with Christy.” He gave her an expectant look. “Something about an appraisal?”

  “That’s right.” Liz extracted the box from her purse and extended it toward him. “I’d like to get your opinion on this.”

  He took a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slipped them on before lifting the hinged lid. His eyes widened when he caught sight of the brooch inside. The fingers of his other hand moved toward it, then paused, hovering inches above the piece. He looked up at her. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  Gingerly, he lifted the golden pin and held it close to his face. “Beautiful workmanship. Note the bloomed gold, the subtle bends to give the appearance of ribbons. And the gems are stunning. Opals aren’t known for their durability, but these are exquisite. And look at the glorious color in the emeralds. We don’t see those often these days.”

  Liz exchanged a glance with Jazzy. The man’s enthusiasm showed. His voice had taken on an almost loving tone.

  He turned the piece over and examined the back side. “Ah. See these loops here?”
>
  Liz looked at the golden circles above the pin’s shaft. “I’ve noticed them before. Are they for a chain?”

  “Exactly. This piece could be worn either as a brooch or a pendant. Ladies of that era sometimes preferred not to pierce the silk of their gowns.”

  Caitlin stepped forward to peer at the brooch. “What era would that be?”

  “Off the top of my head I’d say early 1800s. And British.” He held the brooch closer to his eyes and squinted. “Yes, I was right. Definitely British.”

  “Really?” Liz looked at the pin with a touch of consternation. She’d known it was at least a hundred years old because of the picture Grandma showed her when she was a child. Mr. Cole put the age at almost twice that. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have dared to wear it at all. “Are you sure?”

  Mr. Cole gave her a brief smile. “My dear, that’s what I do. Here. Take a look at this.”

  He pulled a ballpoint pen out of his pocket and pointed with the capped end toward a small emblem etched into the gold on the back, beneath the pin shaft.

  “It looks like a code of some sort,” Liz said.

  “Exactly. It’s called ‘hallmarking.’ Each symbol represents something. The first is the maker’s mark, typically his initials, as here with the AB. The others indicate the assay office and the standard mark, which denotes the quality of the gold. Sometimes you’ll also find a date letter and a duty mark. Unfortunately, this piece doesn’t have those. They would be most helpful in pinpointing the exact age.”

  “This is just like Antiques Roadshow!” Jazzy rubbed her hands together, clearly delighted. “How much is it worth?”

  Mr. Cole considered. “Of course, I can’t be exact without tracing the hallmark, but …” He turned the piece back over to look at the front. “I’d say between twelve and fifteen.”

  The numbers seeped into Liz’s brain. He couldn’t mean fifteen dollars. The gold content itself would be worth more than that. Which meant he was saying Grandma’s brooch was worth—

  “Fifteen hundred dollars?” Caitlin gasped.

  Liz felt lightheaded. She’d been carrying fifteen hundred dollars worth of jewelry around with her for the past three years. In her jewelry box at home. Pinned to her performance clothes when she played at weddings. She gulped. In her backpack on the slopes today.

  “As I said, I’d have to check to be sure of an exact price. It may be less.” He set the pin back in the box and admired it on its velvet bed. “But if you’re in the market to sell, I’ll give you fifteen hundred right now for it.”

  Liz gasped. “I can’t sell it! It’s a family heirloom. My grandmother would kill me.”

  A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, she’s a formidable woman. And quite the bargainer.” He closed the lid with care. “If you’ll leave it with me tonight, I can have an exact figure for you in the morning, along with the appraisal certificate.”

  Discomfort tickled at the edges of Liz’s mind. No doubt he’d take good care of the brooch. And she really didn’t feel safe carrying the thing around, especially after what happened today on the slopes. Still, something didn’t feel right about leaving it.

  She held out her hand, palm up. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not.”

  Mr. Cole paused, and she wondered if she had offended him. Then he gave a nod. He started to place the box in her hand, but hesitated. “Would you mind if I took some pictures? It will help me in my research tonight. And we’ll need them for the appraisal certificate anyway.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll get my camera from the back office.”

  He made as if to walk away, but Liz kept her hand extended. With a brief smile, he relinquished the box.

  Liz’s fingers curled around the velvet. Now that she knew the value, she wasn’t about to let this thing out of her sight until she figured out what to do with it.

  Tim sank into a suede chair in the lobby of the lodge. He couldn’t see the elevator, but he could watch the corner that Liz and her friends would have to come around when they rode down to the main floor.

  He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. The heat from the fire blazing in the grate felt good on his freezing-cold head. He’d been too anxious to take the time to dry it after his shower. He’d thrown on his clothes and headed over here, afraid Liz and the others might leave to go shopping or something while he was gone.

  “Don’t camp out in the hallway,” the sheriff had instructed. Okay, the lobby wasn’t the hallway. He could sit here and read the newspaper or something, and look completely normal.

  Newspaper! No newspaper nearby, but he leaned forward and grabbed a magazine from those scattered on the surface of the coffee table. He leaned against the rear cushion, crossed his leg and propped the magazine open in front of him. There. Now he looked normal, and he could see over the top.

  The lobby was deserted except for the dark-haired woman named Kate sitting behind the front desk. After a curious glance his way, she ignored him.

  He waited. Liz and the others would have to come down sooner or later to go get something to eat. Unless they were planning to cook in their room, but he didn’t think they’d do that. Or maybe they’d order a pizza or something, and he’d see the delivery guy—

  Tim sat straight up. Pizza! Tonight was the bachelor party he and the other guys were throwing for Ryan. He’d totally forgotten. They were planning to order pizza and play video games on the two television sets up in Ryan’s condo. And later on, a girl from Tim’s church was going to deliver a singing telegram. Nothing risqué, just a pretty Christian girl who would do a little good-natured kidding of the groom.

  Relief made him smile as he remembered the girls had similar plans. They were going to hang out in Debbie’s room and have a pajama party or something. Which meant Liz wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. She’d stay right here, safely surrounded by a whole passel of women.

  He glanced at his watch. Just past five-thirty. He and the other guys weren’t supposed to be up in Ryan’s room until seven. He relaxed again in the chair. Plenty of time for him to run home and grab the video games he’d promised to bring to play on Patrick’s machine. If only he could think of a valid excuse to call Liz, make sure she planned to stay in her condo until their party started.

  The main entrance doors swung open. Tim glanced that way casually, and then his head jerked sideways when he caught sight of the group that entered the lobby. He came to his feet.

  “Liz!”

  She turned toward him. “Tim?”

  “Where have you been?” He covered the space between them with determined steps to stand before her. “I thought you were upstairs in your room.”

  Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead toward her bangs as she looked up into his face.

  Obviously, he was coming on a little too strong. “Uh, I mean, you need to keep some ice on that knee. You twisted it pretty good.” How lame was that? He hid a cringe.

  She answered with a polite smile. “My knee is fine. What are you doing here?”

  What am I doing here? He cast around for a plausible explanation.

  “Reading a magazine while I wait for Ryan.” He held the proof up for her inspection.

  Liz’s friends stood beside her, each of them trying to hide grins. Unsuccessfully.

  The blonde, Caitlin, nodded toward his magazine. “Do you read Women’s Day often?”

  Tim glanced down at the magazine. Bummer. He hadn’t even noticed. He met her gaze and answered evenly, “It has some very good articles.”

  A smile twitched at the girl’s lips. “Yes, it does.”

  The ski klutz, Jazzy, stepped toward him. “Actually, it’s a good thing you’re here. Liz has something to tell you.” She gave Liz a stern look. “Don’t you, Liz?”

  “Uh, well.” Liz’s gaze slid from one of her friends to the other. She blew out a sigh that might have been resignation. “Yes, I guess I do. Let’s go sit down. This might take a minute.”

 
; She reached for the purse hanging from her shoulder.

  The front door whooshed open again, letting in a blast of cold air. Tim looked up—

  —and into the last face he wanted to see.

  Jeremy Norville was here.

  “Liz! What a surprise.”

  Tim’s teeth clenched as he watched the guy embrace Liz with a hug. No kiss this time, thank goodness. What was his former friend and all-time jerk doing here? Surely Ryan wouldn’t invite him to their gaming party.

  “Jeremy.” The smile Liz turned on the guy seemed genuine. Jealousy churned in Tim’s gut. She didn’t smile at him like that. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again before I leave to go back to Kentucky.”

  “Well, I couldn’t let that happen, could I?” Norville widened that smirk of his to include the other women. Naturally. “And who do we have here?”

  “These are my friends from Kentucky.”

  Tim stood to one side, his insides boiling, and tried to keep his expression calm as Liz introduced her friends and explained to Norville about their musical trio. It was all he could do not to sock the guy and knock out a few of those white teeth he appeared to be so proud of. He sure flashed them around a lot.

  “So what are you really doing here, Jeremy?” Liz asked. “Are you hanging out with Ryan and the guys tonight?”

  Norville’s glance slid toward Tim for an instant. “No, I’m here to pick up my date.” He flashed a grimace of apology toward Liz. “Sorry, Lizzie. Uh—” He held his palms up. “I mean, Liz.”

  Tim felt a rush of relief at the news. Norville had a date. Good. He knew he wasn’t up for an evening spent in the guy’s annoying presence. But Tim noticed Liz didn’t seem relieved.

  “A date?” Her smile became polite.

  Was she jealous? Tim swallowed, his throat thick.

  “Yeah. Kate and I’ve been going out a couple of months.” The guy dipped his head toward the front desk, where the dark-haired woman stood watching them.

  Tim felt his jaw go slack. She had to be at least ten years older than Norville. Not that she was unattractive, just … old. Or older, anyway. Late thirties, if he was any judge.