It would also give me a chance to clear my head. To figure out if what Sally had told me about Ryan liking older women was true. And if it was true, was it something that I could live with?
"Are you sure?" Adam asked, looking down at Jasper as I stood at his front door.
I was confused. "Sure about what?"
"Sure about dropping him off."
"I— Of course I am. Why else would I be here?"
"Well, last time you were here to drop Jasper off, you were back a few hours later to reclaim him," Adam said, kneeling down to pet him. "It's confusing for the dog, you know."
I could tell he was only half-serious. He was mostly teasing, just wanting to find out what I was actually up to that weekend.
Adam stood up. "So I can assume that we will see you back here again by lunchtime after another lover's tiff?"
Yes. He was fishing to find out if I was going away with Ryan again. It didn't matter that we had been divorced for ten years, or that he was engaged to someone else, there was always going to be that little sliver of jealousy there.
"As a matter of fact, Adam, I am going away with the girls this weekend. We are having a girls only trip."
Adam blinked a few times and looked seriously confused.
"What girls? You don't have any girl friends..."
"Ha ha." I sighed and picked up Jasper's dog bed and carried it inside, calling both him and Casper to follow me. "Well, I do now, okay? And we are going away for the full weekend. So have you got enough dog food to last both dogs until Monday?" Adam and Felicity had another dog, Flora. She was going to have to share that weekend, seeing as I was clean out of pet food. I opened my purse. "Otherwise, I can give you cash."
He pushed my hand away. "Close your purse. I got it. Enjoy your trip. I think it will be good for you."'
I met Sally at her house and she seemed in high spirits. We threw my luggage in the back of her car. "Come on, Christine, let's hit the slopes!" she said, pulling out from the curb and pumping her foot on the gas.
It was hard to believe that I might be sitting next to a killer, especially as she sang along to the radio like she had no cares in the world. "I just feel like I have a little closure right now, you know!" she said, laughing manically as we took another turn toward the mountains.
"Won't the real closure come about when you find out who it was who killed Anthony?" I asked. Surely that had to be weighing heavily on her mind.
But there was a gleam in Sally's eyes that Friday afternoon. She grinned and gripped the wheel. "Don't worry about that..." she said. "I think I have a pretty good idea of what will and what won't bring closure..."
Hmm.
The drive up gave Sally a chance to let her guard down a little more and I was seeing the real Sally Nicholas more than ever before. I guess part of it was due to the way that two people share a form of strange intimacy when it is just the two of them and an empty open road.
"Can I confess something to you?" Sally asked quietly when we were about thirty minutes into the drive. She reached over to turn down the radio.
I shifted a little and braced myself. "Of course," I said lightly, shooting her a smile. Not that she would have noticed. She was gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead. I don't think that she cared that it was me sitting beside her. In that moment, she just wanted to confide is somebody.
"You might have wondered why I am taking the news of Anthony's death so..." She paused for a moment to find the word.
I held my breath. Was she waiting for me to answer? "Easily?" I finally said, when the gap got too long.
Some slight amount of offense seemed to take over her. "Not easily," she said.
Lightly? As though she didn't care at all? As though she found it almost funny at times?
"I suppose I am conflicted. I don't know how to feel about the whole thing," she said quietly.
She didn't know how to feel about her husband being killed?
"You did tell me that you were relieved that he was gone," I said, feeling like I had to bring up that awkward conversation.
"I'm not relieved, not exactly," Sally said, correcting me. "There is more to the story, Christine."
Apparently, there was. Was she ever going to let me in on it? Maybe this trip would give her even more of a chance to let her guard down. I reached up and touched my wig, just like I always did when I started to feel a little out of my depth with Sally and her friends. It was still attached firmly to my head. I exhaled.
I nodded and smiled at her. "It's okay," I said. "If this is tough for you to talk about, you don't have to tell me the whole story. Just what you feel comfortable sharing."
It only took a few moments of silence before she launched right into it. "It's not as though other people don't know," she said bitterly, navigating the road "It was more like an open secret around town." I was so intrigued by her story that I didn't even notice the road or the direction we were going "I'm sure everyone down at the station was laughing behind my back."
"Laughing about what?" I asked, leaning forward to take a better look at Sally's face. She was pale now and her lips were tight. As though she was fighting back tears.
"Anthony was seeing someone behind my back," she finally said, the words struggling to make their way out of her throat. "He was having an affair."
"An affair with who?" I said, aghast.
She shook her head and blinked back the tears, composing herself. "It doesn't matter now," she said as she took a turn off the freeway onto a smaller road. "He's gone now. It's better to just let sleeping dogs lie. Don't you think?"
I shook my head. No, I didn't think that at all. But this was Sally's choice and I could tell she just wanted the matter dropped now that we were getting closer to our destination.
Sally sat straight up and forced a wide smile to her face. "Almost there!" she said brightly. "So not too much longer to stay cooped up in the car with me. I bet you can't wait to stretch your legs and hit the slopes!"
The road was looking way too familiar.
"Is this the right way?" I asked, craning my neck
"Yes," Sally said with a light laugh. "I've been here many times before. I do know the way! Why do you look so worried?"
"What is the name of the place we are staying at again?" I asked
"Hayfield Mountain Resort."
I gripped the door handle and tried to stay cool. I had assumed that Sally would own her own cabin and that's where we were headed. But nope, of course we had to be heading back to the same resort I'd visited with Ryan.
Though it made sense now. She wasn't exactly the outdoorsy type. Even a few nights in a cabin was probably too extreme for her. She'd rather be at a resort with marble bathrooms and staff on hand to deliver champagne to the rooms.
But I didn’t want to step foot back inside Hayfield Mountain Resort. It wasn't just the memories. Even though they were part of it, they were the least of my worries in that moment. What if someone recognized me? I'd only been there less than two weeks earlier, as George, not as Christine.
I thought about faking a stomachache and asking Sally to turn around and take me home, but then I would have to deal with Adam and his smug face when I stopped by to pick up the dogs.
Maybe I could just hide out at my house for a few days and pretend I had been gone the entire time.
But we were almost at the resort—I could spot the tall white building in the distance. There didn't seem like much point turning back now.
"We each have our own room," Sally said as we took our bags out of the car and walked toward the lobby. I refused help with mine from the concierge, though Sally accepted and walked along lightly and bag-free. "And don't worry, it's all on me."
"Wow," I said, thinking about how much saving and scraping it had taken for Ryan to just book the one room for a weekend. "That is very generous, Sally. You don't have to do that.”
"Nonsense. Don't worry about it. It's nothing!"
When we got to the lobby, the ma
nager frowned and looked me up and down. "Have you stayed here before?" he asked.
I shook my head and tried to hide behind the hair from my wig. "First time. Very delighted to be here."
"And what name is your room under?" he asked.
"Georg—" I stopped and gulped and hoped that he hadn't caught that. I spun around to make sure that Sally hadn't heard, but she was busy giggling with Robyn and Lorraine in the corner. "Christine Taylor."
I held my breath while he checked for my name.
"Here you go," he said, handing me the key. "Enjoy your stay at Hayfield Mountain Resort, Miss Taylor."
I jumped off the ski lift and picked up the set of skis that I had rented, hurrying to reach the rest of the ladies at the top of the slope. I was surprised they wanted to actually ski, seeing as they had told me that their membership at the tennis club was entirely ceremonial. Luckily, skiing was the one 'rich person' activity that I was actually good at so I didn't mind. In fact, I was looking forward to showing off my skills.
"You seem a little distracted, Christine," Sally said as she pulled on her skiing goggles.
I had been, just for a second. Ryan and I had planned to ski down these same slopes. It was the part of the trip that I'd been most looking forward to.
I shook my head. "No, not distracted. Just looking forward to skiing. See you at the bottom!"
Sally waved to me, telling me she was going to hang back and let everyone go before her.
I was the first to go, and didn't look back.
The women had all made it to the bottom, once, which was apparently enough for it was time to return to the lodge for cocktails. "Where is Tina?" I asked, looking around for her. I’d had a few glasses, so I wondered if maybe I was just missing her, or miscounting, considering there were so many blondes in the group. I blinked a few times and did another head count.
Nope, definitely only five of us. Two blondes, two brunettes, and one red. There was a blonde missing.
Sally shrugged and curled up on one of the lounges with drink in hand. "She probably drank so much, she passed out back in her room."
But that didn't seem right to me. I'd been the first to make it to the bottom, and all five women had been behind me at the time. Sally had then told us we should go to the bar, and everyone had agreed. I'd reached the bar first and waited for the others to arrive. No one had said anything about going back to their rooms.
I wondered if I should go and look for Tina. But it was so warm and comfortable in front of the fire that it was very hard to drag myself away. Still, I had this nagging feeling in my stomach that something was just not right.
"I'm going back out on the slopes," I said, setting my drink down.
Sally tried to stop me. "Seriously, Tina can look after herself. She’s a big girl."
Lucy looked a little nervous as well. "Stay inside where it’s warm, Christine. You'll freeze if you go back out there now. Please, don't be ridiculous."
I'd already pulled my mittens back on. I didn't think I was being ridiculous at all. I thought the other women were. One of the group was missing and they seemed to think it was as big a deal as one of their salads missing the anchovies. “She might have had an accident..."
Sally rolled her eyes. "Oh, she will be fine. You're wasting your time, Christine. Tina is a fantastic skier. Believe me, she never fails to tell us."
"She could be hurt."
Sally grimaced a little, but as she turned away to take another sip of her champagne, I could have sworn I saw her lips curl at the edges a little—almost as if the idea of Tina having had an accident, of being seriously hurt, was appealing to her. That was why Sally didn't want me to go back out onto the slopes. It wasn't because she didn't think Tina had had an accident, but she was hoping she had.
The wind sliced at my face and I gasped as I felt it lift up my wig. I quickly turned around, holding it down and glancing through the window of the resort to check if any of the ladies had noticed. But they were all too busy gossiping amongst themselves to be looking at what I was doing.
I gulped and turned back around, heading toward the bottom of the slope, keeping my hair pulled down, wishing I'd had the foresight to grab a hat so that my wig would be held down.
I was so cold that I was about to turn back when I squinted and saw something long, human-shaped, lying at the bottom of the slope.
Tina.
"I must have...I must have just slid out of control and hit my head."
I stood back while Tina explained to the paramedics what had happened. One of them, a young woman who was barely more than five foot tall with short dark hair, turned to me for a backup explanation. All I could do was shrug lamely. "I didn't see anything," I said, my voice sounding limp and apologetic.
Sally nodded quickly. She'd brought a flute of champagne out with her to the bottom of the slope while the paramedics inspected the back of Tina's head where she had hit it on the tree trunk. She drank it before it froze. "The slopes were very slippery today," she said.
I walked over to the tree and inspected it while Sally followed me. "Does it really seem feasible that Tina would spin out of control like this?" I asked.
"Well, she doesn't remember what happened," Sally said with a shrug. "So I suppose we'll never know what happened."
"The paramedic seems to think that she might remember after a little bit of rest," I said. "They said a day or two."
Sally's eyes seemed to freeze a little. "Well, it's a funny thing with head injuries. I don't think we should speculate about what Tina will and won't remember. Let's just be grateful that she wasn't killed." With that, Sally spun around on the snow, stumbling a little, before storming back up the hill.
It wasn't much of a vacation with one of the party laid up in a hospital bed for the next two days. The hospital she had been taken to wasn't far, only three miles away in the town of Hayfield Mountain, but I was the only one visiting her.
It was the second time I had visited her. The first time, she had been asleep and I was told by the doctors not to disturb her. This time, she had her eyes open. I wondered if she was starting to remember anything, but I had to go about asking with a bit of tact. I’d brought her a bouquet of sunflowers and put them on the windowsill. It was sunny in spite of the snow and there was a glare in the room thanks to both the white snow and the plain white walls of the hospital room.
"Tina," I said as she sat up and glanced at the flowers. "It's good to see that you seem to be feeling better." I smiled at her. "Looks like you were lucky that the injuries were so minor, considering."
Her eyes were still filled with confusion, darting around the hospital room, but there was something else behind the confusion. There was fear. "I suppose I just slipped and lost control. We had all been drinking a lot of champagne."
"You had less than any of us," I said. I settled down on the edge of her bed and spoke gently. "Tina, I thought you were an excellent skier. None of this makes any sense to me."
She stared out the window. "That is because you don't know the full story, Christine. If you did, it would all make perfect sense to you."
I wanted to ask more, but Sally came in then. I stood up and saw Tina's face change to one of fear.
I thought I did understand after all.
9
It was cold on the ride back, but it had nothing to do with the snow. In fact, Sally had the heat turned up so high that I was almost sweating. But I was far too afraid of her in that moment to ask her to turn it down. She was so tense that I was afraid she might swerve the car right off the road if anyone so much as spoke.
So I supposed it was just as well then that none of the women were talking to each other.
"This was no accident!" Tina had screamed, after returning to Hayfield Mountain Lodge the night before. It appeared that a couple of nights of rest had caused her repressed memories to come flooding back. She suddenly seemed to remember exactly what had happened.
I was the only person that Tina had confided in,
right after breakfast on our final day at the resort. She'd been released from the hospital the night of my visit and had spent the final awkward night with us, sleeping in my room, leaving her own empty. At breakfast, I had been at the buffet, tucking a few croissants into my bag for the road. I'd straightened up when Tina approached me, hobbling along on her crutches.
"These are just for my dog!" I said quickly, shoving the pastries into my purse. "Not for me. I would never eat stale, soggy croissants," I said, lying through my teeth.
But Tina wasn't concerned about my stashed-away pastries.
"I need to tell you something, Christine," she had said, her eyes darting around desperately.
I was distracted by the bruising and cuts on her upper right cheek. They hadn't looked so blue and purple, and green, the day before in the hospital. I wasn't sure she ought to be walking around at all.
"This was no accident," she hissed at me, grabbing my arm. Suddenly, after my visits to the hospital, it seemed that I was the one that Tina trusted. Or she at least trusted that I was on her side. “Sally tried to kill me!”
She hadn't meant for any of the other women to hear, but Lucy had been standing on the other side of the buffet, filling her plate with grapefruit and rye bread to toast.
"What are you trying to say?" she asked, jumping in to defend her best friend and ringleader. "Are you really suggesting that Sally would purposefully push you down the slope?" She glared at me. "Sally would never do anything like that."
At first, Tina seemed like she would back down. But now she was threatening to go to the police, and she had become super paranoid, sure that the other women were in on it. That they'd all conspired to have her pushed down the mountain. Except for me, apparently. Because I was the only one who had come looking for her. But that little fact had done me no favors with Sally, who was no longer talking to me, convinced that I had turned against her as well.
I had been hoping that the car ride would let us all gain some perspective, and that maybe everyone would be able to talk about it and straighten out their differences
Crafts, Crimes, and Country Clubs Page 7