Murder in D Minor Boxed Set

by Virginia Smith

  A sob escaped her throat, but went unheard because of the gag.

  The heavy door to the stairwell they’d come down was just a few yards away, alongside a service elevator. If she wrenched away from Jeremy’s grip, could she get to it?

  No. Her hands were secured behind her back. Even if she could gain the door before he stopped her, she’d never get it open.

  They approached the exit. Jeremy leaned in front of her and pulled it open by the handle. An icy blast of air hit Liz in the face and sent a shiver through her frame. Jeremy leaned through the door to look outside.

  Behind them, the other door opened. Liz jerked around. When she caught sight of the person who stepped through, her knees went weak.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Tim stood in the lobby surrounded by Liz’s family, his hands clenched into fists. Four deputies clustered together by the front entrance, pelting Mr. Harrison with questions. Tim half-listened, his gaze glued to the door. Where was the sheriff?

  Liz’s grandmother stepped in front of him, her handbag dangling from her arm. She glowered up at him from beneath formidable gray eyebrows. “Young man, I insist you tell me what this is all about this instant. Where is my granddaughter?”

  Tim tried to get a grip on his panic. His instructors at the academy had taught him the importance of maintaining a sense of calm in the face of anxious loved ones.

  But they didn’t tell me what to do if the missing person was someone I loved.

  Tim set his teeth together. “I wish I knew, Mrs. Carmichael.”

  The front entrance opened, and Tim’s gaze flew in that direction. But it was just another deputy. This was taking way too long.

  Debbie’s father took Mrs. Carmichael’s hand. “Mother, I want you to come over here and sit down. Ron is going to fill us in. Let Tim go talk to the other police officers and see if he can help.”

  Tim threw him a grateful glance as he hurried away. He couldn’t help looking toward the fireplace, where Liz’s dad stood with his arm around his wife. The agony in both of their faces forced him to look away.

  Tim jogged across the lobby to join the deputies. “What’s the holdup?” He didn’t bother to filter the anger out of his voice. “Daniels should have been here by now.”

  “He just radioed,” Farmer told him. “He got delayed by the traffic and the weather. But he’s minutes away.”

  Tim’s hands fisted and unfisted with pent-up energy. “This is taking too long. We should have started searching the building by now.”

  Adam Goins clapped a hand on his arm. “Calm down, Richards. He’ll be here in two minutes.”

  Tim ground his teeth. Easy for them to say. Liz could be in one of the condos in this building right now, suffering who-knew-what at the hands of a murderer.

  He whirled and marched away, aware that they all stared after him. Near the front desk, Mr. Harrison hovered. If a man could look more miserable than Liz’s family, the resort owner managed to do it. He wrung his hands as Tim came toward him.

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” He shook his head. “What can I do? How can I help find Miss Carmichael before …”

  Tim swallowed. No need to finish the thought. He massaged his temples with a thumb and a forefinger. The sheriff would arrive any minute and start spouting orders. They’d search the building starting on the ground floor, this floor. What would they need?

  “A passkey,” he barked. “The sheriff is going to need a passkey to get into every room.”

  The creases in Mr. Harrison’s brow deepened. “Even the ones with guests? Without a warrant I don’t know—” Tim’s glare cut him off. He gulped. “I’ll get it.”

  He turned to head back behind the front desk, and Tim followed.

  “He’ll want to start on this floor, if that makes a difference. He’ll work from the bottom up.”

  Mr. Harrison extracted a ring of keys from his pocket and grasped one between his fingers. He spoke as he fitted it into the lock of a drawer. “Then they won’t start on this floor. There’s a basement. Directly below us are the furnace and hot water heaters, and the back end is used mostly for equipment and storage.”

  Tim’s mind grasped the information. Normally he wouldn’t dare make a move without orders from his superiors. But this wasn’t a normal situation. This was Liz. He could get down there and check out the basement, get a head start on the search. It beat standing around here waiting, where each second of inactivity seemed to stretch into an hour.

  “How do you get to the basement?”

  Mr. Harrison pointed toward the far hallway. “There’s a service elevator at the back end of the building that housekeeping uses.”

  Tim nodded toward the key in the drawer the man had just opened. “When the sheriff gets here, give him that and tell him where I went.”

  He jogged in the direction the resort owner had pointed. Around the corner. Past the elevators. Around another corner. Down a long corridor, past a dozen or so doors to the lodge’s first-floor condominiums. When he rounded another corner he caught sight of the service elevator at the end of that hallway. He hadn’t even realized this was back here. Or the stairwell beside it. He threw open the door and ran down the stairs. The echo of his steps sounded loud in his ears.

  He leaped off the bottom step and toward the fire door. With his hand on the handle, he paused as his training kicked in. He was wearing his service weapon, as he always did. But he wasn’t wearing a vest. He never did off duty. He could run back upstairs for one, but that would waste precious minutes. No way he’d let lack of a vest stop him from looking for Liz, but he should use caution.

  He unholstered his weapon and held it in his right hand while he gripped the lever-style steel handle and pushed it down slowly with his left. The click as the fastener disengaged sounded loud in the stairwell. He forced himself to wait a couple of seconds before pulling the door toward him in excruciatingly slow motion. An inch. That’s all. Just enough to see through. He put his eye to the crack. A moment to focus in the dim light.

  What he saw on the other side made him forget caution. He jerked the door open and charged through.

  “Tim!”

  Liz’s scream rang inside her head, but the gag kept any sound from escaping. She twisted away from Jeremy, but couldn’t dislodge his grip on her arm. Her captor’s hold tightened, horror spreading across his features as though his doom was charging toward him holding a gun. Which, Liz decided with no small amount of satisfaction, it was.

  Tim was still six feet away, advancing on them with his gun pointed at Jeremy, when a voice spoke close behind Liz’s ear. “That’s far enough, I think.”

  Tim stopped midstep, his gaze fixed on a point just behind Liz. He lowered his foot toward the floor immediately.

  Jeremy’s hold on Liz tightened at the same moment cold steel pressed against the side of her neck. She didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. She recognized the voice. Mr. Cole.

  And he held a gun to her head.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jeremy released his grip on Liz’s arm and stepped away, his eyes round as basketballs. She didn’t dare move. Though Mr. Cole didn’t touch her, his gun held her captive more expertly than Jeremy’s fist.

  “Deputy, I’ll ask you to lay your gun carefully on the floor.” Mr. Cole’s voice held a deadly calm. Tim hesitated only a moment before he complied.

  “Thank you. Norville, you certainly have made a mess of things. Even Sinclair could have handled the situation better than this.”

  Jeremy licked his lips, his gaze fixed on the weapon at Liz’s throat. “I told you. I’m not a crook. I’m a researcher.”

  Mr. Cole’s chuckle rumbled behind Liz. “The two are hardly mutually exclusive. Especially in this instance.”

  Tim looked ready to explode. “Cole, let her go.”

  So he’d recognized the jewelry store owner, too.

  “Much as I’d like to do that, deputy, I just don’t see how I can.”

/>   Tim splayed his fingers and held his hands up. “If you let Liz go, we’ll give you a head start before we sound the alarm. You have my word.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I have to decline.”

  “Look, this place is swarming with cops.” Out of the corner of her eye Liz saw Jeremy jump. She kept her eyes fixed on Tim. “In a few minutes they’re going to start a room-by-room search. And they’re going to begin with this floor. You can’t escape. If you let Liz go, I’ll delay them. Buy you enough time for a decent head start.”

  Mr. Cole’s hand came up beneath Liz’s arm. The gun barrel pressed closer to her skin, which set her heart thumping.

  “Thank you for the reminder. We’ve got to get out of here. Norville, is that your Jeep just outside the door here?” Jeremy’s gulp was loud as he nodded. “Good. You drive. Deputy, you take the passenger side.” He leaned close enough to press his chest against Liz’s shoulder blades. When he spoke, his breath warmed the back of her ear. “Miss Carmichael and I are going to get cozy in the backseat.”

  Liz was tugged backward through the door. A heavy snow fell and clung to her bare head and shoulders in the short walk from the door to a Jeep Cherokee parked a few feet away. No other cars were in sight. This entrance was nothing more than a loading dock, and was completely deserted. A flashing red light to her left drew her attention. Hope swelled for a moment, but then she realized it was a reflection. The front of the lodge lay around the corner and all the way at the other side of the building. She shivered as the wind shifted and blew large flakes into her face, momentarily blinding her.

  Mr. Cole pulled her to a stop beside the car. “Before we get in, deputy, I’d like you to empty your pockets. Give everything to your friend, here. Cell phone, pocket knife, wallet. And weapons, of course.”

  Tim’s chin jerked upward defiantly.

  Mr. Cole went on. “If you’re considering an act of heroism, I wouldn’t advise it. You see, I don’t have anything to lose at this point. A very nasty man is coming to pick up the Jersey Brooch in less than forty-eight hours. I fear him far more than I do the justice system.”

  The Jersey Brooch. That stupid family heirloom was the cause of all this trouble. If Liz ever saw the thing again, she’d grind it beneath her heel.

  Without a word, Tim did as Mr. Cole directed. Jeremy took the items Tim shoved at him and then unlocked the Jeep with a remote. Liz noticed the fearful glances he kept throwing toward Mr. Cole, the quick obedience he exhibited as he followed every direction. He refused to meet her gaze when he opened first the rear door and then the driver’s.

  On Mr. Cole’s instruction, Liz climbed into the backseat at the same moment Tim sat in the front passenger seat. Her arm was not freed for even a fraction of a second, though the gun did slide from her neck to her temple as her captor slid in beside her. No comfort there.

  As Jeremy backed out of the loading dock, Mr. Cole directed, “Take the back trail, Norville, the one that runs around the south side of the resort. You know it?”

  He nodded. “I don’t know if we can get through with this snow, though.”

  “Put it in four-wheel. We’ll get through. Unless you’re as incompetent at driving as you are at retrieving jewelry.”

  From her position in the center of the back seat, Liz saw Jeremy’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. But he pressed the 4x4 button on the dash and steered the car toward a narrow access trail in the opposite direction from the front of the lodge. Panic threatened to choke Liz when she glanced over her shoulder and saw the flashing red lights—and her hopes—fade.

  A series of sniffles came from the backseat. Tim’s heart wrenched when he realized Liz was crying.

  “At least untie her and take the gag off.” He put a note of pleading into his voice.

  “How thoughtless of me. No sense being barbaric about this.”

  As the vehicle plowed through a shallow snowdrift at the end of the access road, Tim twisted in his seat to hold Liz’s gaze with his, as Cole worked with one hand to untie the knot at the back of her head. Even in the fading light Tim saw the terror in her swollen pupils. He forced a smile.

  Lord, don’t let her get hurt. Help us out of this mess.

  When Cole unwound the white strip, Liz worked her mouth to spit out the wad of fabric. Cole reached up with his free hand and pulled it. Pale green. The missing napkin. Tim sent a vicious glare in Jeremy’s direction at the reminder of Liz’s abduction. Rage overtook his thoughts as Liz gulped noisy draughts of air. His short fingernails dug into the fleshy part of his palms. If he ever got Jeremy alone he’d …

  Calm down. You can’t help Liz if you don’t keep a level head.

  “Deputy, I’d prefer you to face forward in your seat, please.”

  Tim’s protests died unspoken at the cold smile on the man’s face. With that gun to Liz’s head, he held every advantage. His frustration level at a slow simmer, Tim turned around. The vehicle bumped up a shallow, snow-covered hill. Tim was thrown against the door as it jerked onto a narrow trail. He knew the place. Local access only. Used by the half-dozen or so folks who lived in the multimillion-dollar homes here on the back side of the mountain.

  “Where are we going?” Jeremy’s voice quivered, a sharp contrast to the steely tone that answered him.

  “Well, that’s for Miss Carmichael to tell us. I believe you mentioned something about a bank on the phone. Which one?”

  His question met silence. For a moment Tim didn’t think she was going to tell him. Don’t be foolish, babe. The man has a gun.

  Apparently Liz reached the same conclusion. “Farmer’s Bank, on Walnut Avenue.”

  “And do you have the key to the safe-deposit box with you?”

  Tim answered. “She doesn’t. I do. It’s on the ring Norville just took.”

  “Excellent. And the bank doesn’t close until six o’clock. Plenty of time.”

  They drove in silence. Tim expected any minute to see flashing lights behind them. Surely the sheriff had mobilized the department by now, had followed him to the basement, checked outside the door, noted the fresh tire tracks in the new snow. Unless the traffic and the weather delayed him further. Tim tried not to think of the Friday-evening traffic that habitually packed Park City’s streets.

  They came to the end of the snow-covered trail and pulled out onto a main road. Jeremy merged into the traffic, and Tim’s hopes dipped. Their trail was lost. Any hope of rescue rested with him now.

  When they pulled into the bank parking lot, Cole directed Norville to park as far from the building’s entrance as possible. Tim noted the security cameras mounted on the corners of the building. They’d pick up the vehicle, but were too far away to identify anyone inside.

  “Now, here’s my plan. Norville, you’ll go with Deputy Richards into the bank, retrieve the Jersey Brooch and return. Miss Carmichael and I will wait here. Of course, it goes without saying that you will both act normally. Please don’t give me a reason to harm this lovely lady.”

  Tim clenched his teeth. The man must be desperate. That “plan” was riddled with holes, except for one significant fact. As long as Cole kept his gun on Liz, Tim had no choice but to do as he asked.

  “I expect this will take no longer than ten minutes.”

  As he got out of the vehicle, he caught Liz’s gaze. She stared at him through red-rimmed eyes. Terror made her face white. Tim put as much confidence as he could into his smile before he closed the door.

  He and Norville crossed the parking lot. As they approached the bank entrance, Tim held his palm out for the keys. When he had them in his hand, he spoke in a low, even voice. “I just want you to know, when we get out of this I’m going to wring your sorry neck.”

  He jerked the door open and strode through it, not caring whether Norville followed or not.

  A line of customers waited in the queue to approach the tellers. Tim bypassed them, aware that Norville stayed on his heels, and went directly to the glass enclosure where the m
anager sat behind his desk.

  The man gave Tim a half smile of recognition. “Hello again. Can I help you with something?”

  “Yes, I need to get back into my box for a minute.” Amazingly, his pleasant tone belied the anxiety churning in his stomach. “I forgot something this morning.”

  The man rose. “Certainly. Come this way, please.”

  Tim followed him to the vault. In vain, he looked for a chance to signal, to wiggle his eyebrows or mouth a plea for help. But whenever Norville wasn’t in a position to see his face, the manager wasn’t, either. Even when he signed in, Norville stood near enough to see what he wrote. Tim held his frustration in check. Liz’s life depended on his actions. He had no choice but to follow the rules Cole had set out.

  They had the silk box and were back in the car within their ten-minute limit. Tim twisted around in the passenger seat, held the box up in his hand and caught Cole in a hard stare.

  “It’s yours. As soon as you let Liz go.”

  The man’s eyelids narrowed. “That’s not how this is going to work.”

  The thumb on the hand that held the gun moved, and a loud click sounded in the car as he cocked the hammer. A strangled sob escaped Liz’s lips, and something wrenched inside Tim. She’d been remarkably calm through this ordeal. He wasn’t sure he could have remained so calm with a gun held to his temple. He couldn’t bear to do anything to upset her further, even if it meant sacrificing their best bargaining chip.

  Without a word, he handed the box to Cole.

  “Thank you. And now, I’ve got to keep you two out of sight until this is delivered to its new owner. Norville, head out 248, toward Kamas. Deputy, you might want to fasten your seat belt. The ride might get a little rough.”

  Tim did as he was told. The silence over the next fifteen minutes as the lights from Park City receded behind them was broken only by the noise of the tires cutting through the slush on the road and Liz’s occasional sniffle. Outside, the snow eased to a few stray flakes and then stopped completely. They headed due east in a deepening gloom, the setting sun obscured by thick cloud cover.