“Doesn’t she?” Mom beamed at her for a moment, then deep lines creased her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
Liz swallowed a groan. The sixth-sense mother thing in action. Mom always knew when something was up in Liz’s life.
She pasted a relaxed grin on her face. “Not a thing. I’ve just been worried about you getting here safely. We’re getting a lot of snow up in the mountains today.”
“No problems at all,” Dad said. “Smoothest flight I’ve ever had.”
Mom studied her, suspicion apparent in her gaze. In the next moment, her forehead cleared and her eyes went round. “Oh my goodness, Ron, would you look who’s here?”
Liz turned to see Tim emerge from the crowd behind them. In the next instant she was pushed aside as both her parents rushed past her. Dad grabbed Tim’s hand while Mom threw her arms around him and hugged for all she was worth. A sense of outrage stole over Liz. Her parents had always adored Tim, but did they have to look so much happier to see him than they were to see her?
“You look great, son.” Dad pumped Tim’s hand like he was operating a car jack.
Mom finally pulled back from her embrace, still beaming. “We’ve been looking forward to seeing you at the wedding, but we had no idea you’d come with Liz to pick us up.”
She turned a delighted grin on Liz, who focused on standing ramrod straight and keeping her face immobile. Mom had X-ray vision when it came to reading her only daughter. Liz knew if she let the slightest emotion show, Mom would be on her like a puppy on a chew toy.
“Actually,” Tim began, “I had to bring Liz here today because—”
He was going to spill his guts. Liz jumped in.
“Because of the weather. Remember I mentioned the snow? Tim has four-wheel drive. In his police car. You knew he’d become a deputy sheriff, didn’t you? In Summit County. That’s up in Park City.”
Why was she babbling? Shut up, Liz. Mom’s eyebrows are climbing. She cast a silent plea toward Tim.
“Uh, that’s right. The weather might get bad this afternoon.” He pointed toward a baggage carousel behind them that had just started to move. “I think that’s from your flight.”
“Oh, good.” Mom hooked her arm through Tim’s and pulled him toward the carousel. “Tim, will you help Ron with my big bag? It’s too heavy for him to lift, but he won’t admit it. Can you believe the airline charged me a fee because they said it was over the limit? I think there was something wrong with their scales.”
Dad put an arm around Liz’s shoulders and followed. A tolerant smile twisted his lips as he watched his wife. “We’re staying two nights, and she packed three bags. One of them’s full of nothing but shoes.”
Liz grinned and squeezed Dad’s waist. Even if she couldn’t confide everything, it sure was good to see her parents.
Tim let out an “Ummmph!” as he hefted the heavy suitcase into the back of the Expedition. “What does she have in that thing?”
Mr. Carmichael grinned and placed a smaller bag beside it. “I learned a long time ago it’s best if we don’t ask. You don’t want to hear the explanation. It involves everything from the schedule of events to the weather, and hinges a great deal on what the other women are wearing. Husbands soon learn that wives think of their wardrobes as competition gear.”
“I heard that, Ronald.” From her position beside Liz in the backseat, Mrs. Carmichael turned to level a mock glare at her husband. “Keep it up and I’ll feel the need to make a few wardrobe comments of my own, concerning that ridiculous green sweater you insisted on bringing but under no circumstances are allowed to wear in public.”
“Yes, dear. Whatever you say.”
Tim didn’t bother to hide his smile as Mr. Carmichael tossed the last bag inside. The easy banter of these two reminded him of his own parents’ thirty-five-year marriage. The first time he met the Carmichaels, he knew why he and Liz had immediately felt comfortable with each other. Their families were so similar.
He slammed the back doors and started to head around the driver’s side of the vehicle. Mr. Carmichael stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He glanced toward the women in the backseat and kept his voice low. “Mother called me yesterday and told me about the man who got shot up at the resort where we’re staying. I didn’t mention anything to Gail because I didn’t want to upset her. But I have to admit, you being here with Liz today has me a little concerned.” He peered into Tim’s eyes. “Not that I’m not glad to see you two together, you understand.”
Uh-oh. Better set that issue straight right now. “Sir, we’re not really together, in any sense other than friends.”
The man grinned. “Well, that’s a start.” Then he sobered. “So, between us, is everything okay at this resort?”
Tim scuffed his shoe against his vehicle’s tire. “I hope so.”
“You’re not making me feel better, son.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “My family’s not in any danger, are they?”
Tim looped his car keys over his index finger and jingled them. He knew Liz didn’t want her parents to worry, but he couldn’t be untruthful. “I promise you. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.” Tim jerked his head upward, eyes going wide. “I mean to them.”
Mr. Carmichael’s jaw tightened. “Tim, you and I are going to have a serious talk. Not right now, but later on tonight. And you’re going to tell me everything. You hear?”
Tim hesitated. He didn’t want to break any confidences with Liz, but the man had a right to know his daughter had been attacked and may be in danger. He intended to tell her so as soon as he could get her alone. Hopefully, before Mr. Carmichael cornered him and demanded some answers.
He nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
TWENTY-THREE
Liz slung her music portfolio over her shoulder and hefted her cello case. She lifted her chin and hollered toward the other room. “You girls about ready to go? We need to get downstairs to the reception hall and get tuned before the rehearsal starts.”
She and Tim had arrived back at Eagle Summit Lodge ninety minutes ago from the airport with Mom and Dad, who were getting settled in Grandma’s condo. Mom had tried to needle information out of her about Tim, but Liz was proud of herself for the way she’d handled it. She’d smiled and insisted they were just friends. The last thing she needed was to get her mother’s hopes up about anything beyond a friendship between her and her handsome ex. Her mother’s hopes—or her own. Anything else was just too painful to contemplate.
Caitlin came into the living room, her flute case in one hand and a collapsible music stand in the other. “I’m ready. Do you need help carrying anything?”
“No, thanks. I got it. Where’s Jazzy?”
The petite violinist appeared at the mention of her name. “Right here.”
“Okay, let’s get going.”
A knock sounded on the door when they reached it. Caitlin looked through the peephole before twisting the dead bolt open. “It’s Debbie.”
Liz’s cousin pushed into the room. The skin around her eyes was tight, the corners of her mouth turned downward. “I need to talk to you. It’s about that stupid heirloom thing.” She crossed the living room and threw herself sideways across the chair.
Liz exchanged a glance with Caitlin and Jazzy. “You two go on and start getting set up. We’ll be down in a minute.”
As they left, she set her cello case down and let the leather portfolio slip off her shoulder to rest on the floor beside the couch.
The moment the door closed behind Liz’s friends, Debbie launched into a loud lament. “Grandma is driving me absolutely insane! She’s insisting I wear that hideous thing on my wedding dress tomorrow.” She sat up and mimicked a high-pitched, nasal whine. ‘I will not have my granddaughter break a six-generation family tradition.’ Aaahhh!” Debbie collapsed backward, her legs dangling over the arm of the chair. “Who cares about a stupid tradition anyway? This is my wedding, not hers!”
The proverbial prewedding jitters had f
inally overcome her sweet-natured cousin. Liz waited patiently for Debbie’s rant to run itself out. When it did, she leaned forward to give the foot nearest her a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to wear the brooch on your dress. In fact, you can’t.”
That put a stop to the dramatic whimpering. Debbie sat upright and speared Liz with a hopeful gaze. “I can’t?”
Liz shook her head. “I don’t have it to give you.”
Debbie’s jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me you lost the ugly thing. Girl, she’s going to kill you.”
“No, I didn’t lose it.” Liz paused. No sense upsetting an already anxious bride. “But yesterday I paid a visit to Mr. Cole and had it appraised. I figured you’d need an official appraisal for your insurance policy or something.” Not necessarily untrue, but a gross understatement of the real reason for the appraisal.
“Really? How much is it worth?”
“You’re not going to believe this. Seventeen hundred dollars.”
Debbie’s mouth gaped open. “No way.”
Liz nodded. “After I found out how much the brooch is worth, I didn’t feel comfortable carrying it around. Tim and I locked it in his safe-deposit box at the bank.” Liz couldn’t believe she was about to make this offer, but if this is what it took to keep her cousin out of the danger the possession of that brooch included … “You tell Grandma you’ll wear the brooch. That’ll get her off your back. Then I’ll conveniently forget to pick it up at the bank. The wedding isn’t until four o’clock tomorrow. By then the bank will be closed until Monday morning.”
Tears glittered in Debbie’s eyes. “You’d do that for me? Bear the brunt of Grandma’s anger? She’ll never forgive you, Liz.”
But Liz knew she would. One day, when the police had caught the murderer and had him safely behind bars, the truth could come out. Then maybe she’d be restored to Grandma’s good graces.
For now, she lifted a shoulder. “She’s never forgiven me for breaking the tradition the last time. I can handle it.”
Debbie flew across the space between them and caught Liz in a breath-stopping hug. “You are so awesome. How can I thank you?”
Liz returned the embrace, then pushed her gently back. “You can calm down and enjoy your wedding.”
Last night’s happiness returned to Debbie’s eyes. “You’ve got a deal. Let’s get down to the rehearsal.”
Liz grabbed her cello and followed Debbie out the door. She stopped long enough to lock the dead bolt before they headed down the hallway for the elevator. When the door slid open, Debbie stepped inside.
Liz halted. “I forgot my music. I’m just going to run get it. You go ahead.”
“Here, let me take your cello.”
Liz handed Debbie the instrument case and jogged back down the hallway to her condo. She let herself in. Yep, there was her portfolio, beside the couch. Right where she’d left it. She scooped it up, slung the strap over her shoulder and whirled around. She jerked the door open and almost ran through the doorway … and knocked right into someone standing in the hallway.
Fear jolted through her insides.
Then she looked up. Her muscles relaxed, and she heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Jeremy, you just about scared the life out of me.”
He flashed the smile she remembered so well, the one that exuded Irish charm. “Sorry, Lizzie. Oops.” He held up a finger. “I mean, Liz.”
Liz hefted the strap on her shoulder. “What are you doing here? Are you going to the wedding rehearsal?” Things could get pretty uncomfortable with both Tim and Jeremy in the same room all evening.
His forehead creased. “Rehearsal? No. I need to talk to you.”
That was a relief. “Okay, but it’ll have to wait. I need to get downstairs. The rehearsal is going to start in a few minutes.”
“No, you don’t understand.” His eyes flickered sideways. “This can’t wait.”
Liz opened her mouth to protest, but in the next moment Jeremy grabbed her arm in a strong grip. His other hand twisted the doorknob behind her. The door opened, and Liz found herself shoved backward into the condo.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Liz jerked her arm out of his grasp.
“I’m sorry, Liz, really. But I need your help in the worst way.”
She rubbed the skin on her arm where he’d gripped her. He sounded really desperate. In fact, he looked desperate as he stood leaning against the door, staring at her. She’d never seen happy-go-lucky Jeremy wear such a panicky, pinched expression.
She swept a hand to indicate the door behind him. “Well, this is not a good way to ask for my help. Now let me get down to the rehearsal and I’ll meet you someplace later, when it’s over.” She tilted her head to give him a stern look. “In a public place.”
His jaw moved as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Then he shook his head. “This can’t wait. I know this is going to sound like a strange question, but do you still have that old antique pin your grandmother gave you?”
The room seemed to tilt as blood drained out of Liz’s brain.
“Pin?” Liz’s voice came out in a squeak.
“Come on, Liz. Don’t play games. Do you still have it, or have you already given it to Debbie?”
Liz’s fingers curled into fists. No way was she going to get Debbie involved in this mess. She’d forgotten that Jeremy knew about the pin. She’d told him three years ago, showed it to him, even. In fact, she’d cried on his shoulder over the whole messy episode, when Grandma was being so nasty about her disregard for her family’s tradition, when she broke her engagement with Tim.
Was Jeremy somehow involved in the attempts to steal her brooch? If so, that meant he was involved in the attack on her yesterday, and … she gulped. And in the murder of Jason Sinclair.
She forced herself to respond calmly. “No. I haven’t turned it over to Debbie.”
“That’s a relief.” His cheeks puffed with a gust of breath. His glance circled the condo. “So where is it?”
“It isn’t here. I put it in a safe place.”
A dangerous glint flashed in his green eyes. “Don’t mess around, Liz. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
Though her insides quaked, Liz steeled her voice. “I think I have an idea.”
His shoulders heaved in a silent laugh. “No, you really don’t. Listen, just give me the pin and this will all blow over. You can tell your family you went to get it and somebody had stolen it. I’ll even split the money with you. Twenty-five thousand dollars. As soon as I get it, I swear I’ll give you half.”
Liz blinked. Twenty-five thousand dollars? For a seventeen-hundred-dollar brooch?
“Jeremy, even if I wanted to give it to you, I couldn’t. I don’t have it. Tim and I locked it in a bank vault this morning.”
He went still. A bead of sweat glistened as it slid down his red face. “Oh, Liz. I hope you’re kidding. ’Cause if not, I don’t know what they’re going to do to me. Or you, either.”
She shook her head. None of this made sense. Including Jeremy’s involvement. He’d never been violent. Sometimes a jerk, but not violent. Not unless he’d changed a bunch in three years.
She watched him carefully as she asked, “Was it you who attacked me on the slopes?”
He swiped his sleeve across his damp forehead. “What are you talking about? Someone attacked you?”
“Yesterday. A man followed me to an isolated place, knocked me to the ground and tried to take my backpack.” She watched him carefully. “The police think it was the same person who murdered that man Wednesday night.”
He started visibly. “That wasn’t me. Honest. I had nothing to do with that.”
The renewed vigor with which he chewed the inside of his lip convinced Liz that he was telling the truth. A tiny thread of relief worked its way into her tense muscles. Jeremy was somehow involved, but he hadn’t actually hurt anybody. Yet. The desperation she saw in his wild eyes left her no confidence that he wouldn’t harm someone in the future. Starti
ng, maybe, with her.
Options! Options! What are my options?
Scream. But that would do no good at all. Since most everyone had checked out of the lodge after the discovery of the body, this hallway was deserted except for the wedding party. And they were all downstairs at the rehearsal. No matter how loudly she screamed, nobody would hear her.
Could she run? He stood between her and the door. No way she could get around him and out into the hallway.
A frantic prayer formed in her mind. Lord, please help me. I’ve got to get out of here.
What about making a run for it in here? If she dashed for the bedroom, she might make it. She could slam the door, lock it and call 9-1-1. The deputy sheriffs downstairs could be up here in a matter of minutes. Liz glanced toward the bedroom, her mind busy planning her path. She had a clear shot between the couch and the dinette table. He’d be after her the second she moved. She could count on a three-step lead at the most, and her knee was still bothering her from yesterday. Still, it was the best shot she had.
She tensed her muscles and sprinted.
Before she completed her first step, Jeremy was moving. She hadn’t gone two yards when he overtook her. He got a grip on the music portfolio still hanging from her shoulder and used it to jerk her backward. She was flung sideways, over the back of the couch. In the next instant, Liz’s face was pressed into the fabric cushion. Rage and terror gathered in her chest and exploded out of her in a scream. But Jeremy’s strong hand pressed her head down, and the sound was muffled by the cushion. His weight crushing her, he jerked her left arm up behind her. Her scream changed to a cry of pain as the movement wrenched her shoulder muscles into an unnatural position.
Jeremy’s voice sounded close to her ear. “I really don’t want to hurt you, Liz. But you’re not leaving me a choice.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Tim came into the reception hall on the heels of Debbie’s father, freshly showered and changed from his quick visit home after dropping the Carmichaels off, and seeing Liz safely to her grandmother’s condo. He arched his back, stretching tense muscles. A night on a lumpy couch and a lot of tension had created more than a few knots. He needed to get to the gym to work the stress out of his body.
Murder in D Minor Boxed Set Page 33