Descent (A Stone Mountain Mystery Book 1)

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Descent (A Stone Mountain Mystery Book 1) Page 11

by Kristina Stanley


  Jeff flew through the finish line and slammed to a stop beside Ian. His smug expression told Ian he’d had a fast run. Ian had dreamt of being an Olympic athlete since he was eight years old. He started skiing at six, and by fifteen, he was part of the Alpine Canada regional junior elite program. At seventeen, he’d been accepted into the national development program. He was old enough now for a shot at the World Cup team. He’d blown last year and wasn’t going to let that happen this year. He’d train harder, make himself better, whatever he needed to do. He planned to own the NorAms this season.

  “Did you get your time yet?” Jeff asked.

  “Nope. I was watching you ski.”

  Jeff glanced sideways at Ian.

  “Maybe I’ll learn something,” Ian said. “Come on, let’s go up. We’ve got time for another run before the employees get the hill.”

  They skated to the lift entrance, showed their passes and plunked on the chair. Leg cramps and cold muscles would increase their times and both accepted the blanket the liftie offered.

  Cold seeped from the chair into Ian’s Spyder suit, and he shifted his lower back off the seat. He wished they’d had a chance to see their times. He’d give the next run everything he had. Jeff wouldn’t know what hit him. Ian was the better skier. This was just an off day.

  “So does Donny tune your skis?” Ian asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I’ve never seen your gear in the tuning room. I figured he tuned them at home.”

  “We’ve got a sweet set up in our garage.”

  “Doesn’t it bother him?”

  “Tuning my skis?”

  The chair rumbled by a lift tower, and snow dropped onto Ian’s blanket. He knocked the clump off his leg. “I’d think it would be hard.”

  “The accident happened a long time ago. He decided he wanted to tune skis.”

  Ian continued rattling Jeff, hoping for an advantage. “Just seems like it might bother him, you skiing on the team when he was better than you.”

  “Donny isn’t like that.”

  “Maybe Donny wanted McKenzie off the team. Give you a better chance. Ever think of that?”

  “Fuck you. Maybe you killed McKenzie. You weren’t good enough to get a spot, and the day after you’re on the team, McKenzie gets murdered.”

  “Maybe Donny finally had enough of McKenzie and offed him. He must have hated the guy.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  Ian ignored Jeff and tried a different angle. “How come Donny doesn’t ski? That sit-ski must have been expensive.”

  The chair bounced into the unloading station.

  “Back off.” Jeff pushed off the chair and skied down the exit ramp toward the training gates.

  * * *

  Amber stood beside the tuning room waiting for the tuners to return from lunch. She’d learned each tuner’s habits. At the start of the day, Charlie was usually the first one in, followed shortly by the rest of the tuners. He ate lunch in the tuning room, paper bagging his meal. The others ate in the cafeteria. Amber memorized every tuner’s name and chatted with as many of them as she could, mentioning she had tuning experience. She’d get a tuning job somehow. No matter what others at the resort thought about her, she’d prove she was good enough.

  She sipped hot chocolate and licked whipped cream off the edge of the Styrofoam cup. The aroma of cocoa always reminded her of skiing with her mom. The squeak of wheels on the laminate flooring announced Donny’s arrival. She lowered the zipper of her pink fleece top.

  “Hey.” His eyes seemed to see right into her. Why did men always have long lashes and women needed makeup to get the same look? She rubbed under her eye, wiping away a mascara smudge that wasn’t there, and tugged at her bangs as if she could make them straighter with her fingers.

  “How was lunch?” She was so not cool.

  “The usual.” Donny shrugged. “I’m not a big buffet fan. Didn’t you get a break?”

  “Not yet. I hope Kalin comes soon. I’m starving.”

  Donny pulled an energy bar from his pocket and offered it to her. She didn’t like them. They tasted like cardboard flakes, but she accepted the snack, leaning forward to give him a better view. “How’s the tuning going this morning?”

  Donny’s eyes didn’t stray below her neckline. “You ask a lot about tuning. You interested?”

  Amber livened. Most guys were attracted to her body, but she was picking up a vibe that Donny was different, and she might have to try harder to get his attention. If they spent time tuning together, they’d have something in common. “I wanted to tune at the rental shop but didn’t get the job. Not enough experience. Maybe you could teach me?”

  “Not during race training. But after maybe.”

  “Great. How long have you been a tuner?”

  “My Aunt Lisa taught me after…well, since I’ve been in this chair. Are you going to ski during the employee session?”

  “I wish. I gotta stay here.” Amber bit the corner of her lip and tasted strawberry lip gloss. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “How come you don’t use the sit-ski?” Amber had noticed the ski designed for a paraplegic in the back of Donny’s van but had never seen him use the equipment.

  Donny lifted his eyebrows and held eye contact with Amber. “People don’t usually have the guts to ask me that.”

  “Oh…I didn’t mean to be rude, but don’t you miss skiing?”

  A gentle smile eased across his face. “I didn’t used to. I mean I try not to think about what I’ve lost, but this week I’ve been wondering if maybe I should try.” Donny watched snow fall outside, and Amber watched Donny. The blond stubble on his angular jaw countered the soft bangs swooping across his forehead, but his eyes are what drew her to him.

  “Maybe I could help you.” Because I know so much about using a sit-ski. Not. “I’ll trade you that for tuning lessons.”

  “I’ll think about it. I’m not sure who’s getting the better deal, though.” Donny wheeled toward the tuning room, leaving her to mull that over.

  “Dude, I need to scan your pass.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Kalin wanted to forget about the murder for a couple of hours and met Ben at the edge of the maze gates at the entrance to the Alpine Tracks chair lift. About thirty employees hung in the area waiting for the go ahead from the liftie. Every few days during race training, the employees were given an hour to ski along the edge of the run. With the center injected, and set for racing conditions, the surface was too dangerous for non-racers. Kalin listened to the lively chatter and laughter. This was a good day.

  Getting to ski before the season opened was a perk Kalin used for recruiting, and she made Ben wait with her until the last employee sat on the lift. Ben and Kalin snagged a four-person chair to themselves and snuggled in the middle.

  “You sure you feel well enough to ski?” Ben asked.

  “I told you, I’m not sick.”

  “You are too. You’re just taking enough cough medicine to hide it.”

  “I am not, so stop bugging me.”

  Ben put his arm around Kalin’s puffy ski jacket and pulled her closer. “Did you hear Reed has decided to stop injecting the run? Last night was the last time.”

  “I was in the tuning room when he told the German coach. The guy was pissed. He said Reed had no right.”

  “What’s the point of stopping the injection? Dangerous conditions didn’t kill McKenzie.”

  “Reed said he didn’t want the liability.” Kalin clanked her ski boots together, eager to get skiing. “Too much scandal already, I guess.”

  Kalin and Ben disembarked and skied through a mogul field along the side of the run. Her knees compressed and decompressed as she attacked each mogul. She expertly followed Ben, turn for turn, and suspected he skied hard just to compete with her. He zagged off the run and into the trees. If he thinks he can lose me that way, he’s mistaken.

  She kept right on the back of hi
s skis, inches from him, hooting to keep the pressure on. He turned back onto the run and tucked the flats to the bottom. She reached the maze a second behind him, out of breath and exhilarated.

  “My boot’s bugging me,” she said between deep breaths.

  “It’s probably not adjusted right. Let me see.”

  Ben bent and pulled the leg of Kalin’s ski pants above the top of her boot. His hands were warm on her calf, and she felt heat rise through her belly. The memory of him naked beside her that morning was fresh. Jeez, control yourself.

  Ben tugged at the top of her sock. “Your sock’s bunched up in your boot. You need them smooth or the ridges will give you a bruise.”

  “I know that,” Kalin said, adding a bit of sass to her voice.

  Ben raised one eyebrow at her. “And what? You forgot how to get dressed?”

  Kalin nudged his shoulder, pretending to push him off balance. “I was distracted.”

  “Yeah. You were.”

  With one foot connected to her snowboard and the other pushing against the ground, Nora did the snowboard shuffle to Kalin’s side. “Yo, can I go up with you? Or do you want to be alone with the hot guy?”

  The chair clanged around the bull wheel and into the loading station. Without waiting for an answer, Nora joined them on the chair.

  Ben leaned around Kalin, resting his forearms on the safety bar, and spoke to Nora. “How are you guys doing with Ian race training instead of tuning?”

  Nora’s face reddened, and Kalin wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from Ben referring to Ian.

  “We’re doing okay. It helps to be busy.”

  Ben’s phone jingled. He handed one glove to Kalin and shifted his hip sideways to get the phone from his pocket. Their helmets thudded against each other.

  Kalin slid closer to Nora to give Ben space, and while he spoke on the phone, she said to Nora, “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. It’s just that…I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “Me neither.” Kalin checked out Nora’s stomach. “I’m glad you came out, but should you be snowboarding?”

  Nora banged her board against Kalin’s ski. “Shush.”

  “He can’t hear us, and he doesn’t know.”

  Nora squeezed Kalin’s wrist. “Thanks.”

  “If you need us, you can come over any time. You know that, right?”

  “I do.”

  “What do you think of the scanning process?”

  “It keeps people out of the room. Without interruptions, we have more time to focus on what we’re doing. I kinda like it, but every time I see Amber, I feel like gagging. Donny’s been a bit off his game. I’ve had to redo a couple of skis before Charlie noticed there was a problem with them. And you should see the way Amber flirts with Donny. What a slut. He’s way too good for her.”

  Donny was like a little brother to Nora, not just a cousin, and her natural instinct would be to protect him. Funny Donny said Nora was off her game too. “What’s wrong with Donny?” Kalin asked.

  “I don’t know. He seems freaked by Steve’s death. He keeps asking if the cops suspect anyone. Like I’m going to tell him they suspect me.”

  * * *

  Suspects. People Kalin knew were actual suspects. She pinched her nose between her thumb and index finger. Her elbow rested on the conference table in the security office. She hadn’t had time to eat after the employee ski session, and her stomach growled, telling her she was ready for dinner. Food would have to wait. “I’m not sure what to do next.”

  “Are you asking for suggestions?” Fred asked.

  “I am. Reed wants me to figure out how someone accessed McKenzie’s gear. Constable Miller doesn’t want me interfering with the investigation.” Kalin wanted Fred to understand the difficult position she’d been in. That she had a boss too. The security team hadn’t been compromised by Reed’s decision to give Jenkinson and McKenzie special treatment. Something much worse had happened. “What would you have done?”

  “Pardon?”

  “If Reed asked you instead of me to give special treatment to someone.”

  “I wouldn’t have agreed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Fred paced in front of the table. His black leather boots creaked with each step. “Let’s make some lists. Who had access to the tuning room? When was there an opportunity to access McKenzie’s gear?”

  “I’d like you to print a list of everyone that’s been in the tuning room since we started controlling entry.” Kalin craned her neck to keep him in her sights. “Can you stop pacing? You’re making me dizzy.”

  “Sorry.” Fred sat across from her. “I’m not sure what that list would tell us.”

  “I don’t know, but I thought we should at least know who the people are. It’d be interesting to see if there’s anyone who should have access now that’s staying away from the room.”

  Fred went to his computer, pulled up the list and hit print. While the printer hummed, he said, “What about motive? Any ideas?” He grabbed a marker and went to the empty Be-On-The-Lookout list.

  Kalin stretched her tired quads. Every year she promised herself she’d be fit for early season skiing, and every year she ended up sore. Maybe next year. She thought about Fred’s question and said, “Let’s start with the obvious. Donny Morley.”

  Fred wrote Donny’s name at the top of the list. “I’m not sure he’s obvious. The accident was three years ago. If Donny was going to kill McKenzie, you’d think he would have attempted something before now.”

  “What about someone who didn’t want McKenzie racing?”

  “Jeff Morley was the second fastest skier. At least until Ian Reed got on the team. What do you think about him?” Fred wrote Jeff’s name on the board.

  “I don’t know him well enough to have an opinion, but I guess he has a motive. Maybe the combination of McKenzie being the faster skier, dating Nora and hurting Donny was too much for him.” Kalin thought about Nora. Would McKenzie abandoning her when he found out she was pregnant be motive enough? Could she have lost control? Kalin didn’t feel right telling Fred about Nora’s pregnancy.

  “Rumor has it McKenzie split with Nora the night before he died. Maybe she killed him.” Fred wrote Nora’s name below Jeff’s.

  “I’ve seen her angry, but enough of a temper to lose control and commit murder? I don’t think so.” Kalin remembered Nora’s face when she’d been arguing with Ian. Maybe Ian had hit on Nora to get at McKenzie. “What about Ian Reed? He wanted a spot on the team, and he must be under pressure from his dad to perform. I can’t imagine Reed was too happy when Ian didn’t make the first cut. Pretty embarrassing to be the president with a son not making the local team.”

  “I called a friend in Fernie and asked about Ian. He told me Ian was kicked off the Fernie team mid-season last year,” Fred said.

  “Did he say why?”

  “He said it’s gossip, but the rumor is Ian got the coach’s daughter pregnant and dumped her.”

  Kalin wasn’t going to tell Nora this. “Nice. Did she keep the baby?”

  “No baby was ever seen. Everyone assumed she had an abortion. Ian missed half the season because the coach wouldn’t let him ski again. The coach happens to be Coach Jenkinson’s brother-in-law.”

  “Maybe he’s desperate this season. So this is gossip too, but I heard McKenzie slept with Amber Cristelli while he was dating Nora. That might give Amber motive.”

  “Or Nora.” Fred wrote Ian and Amber’s names underneath Nora’s.

  Kalin hadn’t meant to put more focus on Nora, just the opposite actually. “There’s also Charlie Whittle, the head tuner. He had access and knowledge, but I don’t know what his motive would be.”

  “We can’t forget Ben. He’d been giving McKenzie a hard time.” Fred added Charlie and Ben to the list.

  Kalin tried not to be annoyed by his comment, but the emotion was hard to suppress, and her voice came out harsher than she wanted. “You can’t be seriou
s. You know Ben.”

  “I don’t really think Ben’s the guilty one, but the list needs to be complete.”

  Kalin let Fred’s insult pass, not wanting to insert another wedge into their already tense relationship. “There are also the other ski teams. That seems a bit off the mark but possible. Have you talked with Miller since you gave him the video?”

  “No. He’s gone quiet. I don’t know what the RCMP are up to.”

  “There’s always the possibility they’re investigating someone we haven’t thought of.”

  Fred picked up the list from the printer, and together they examined the names of everyone who’d been in the tuning room since McKenzie’s death.

  Kalin shoved the papers away, and they slid across the table. “This tells us nothing.”

  By the time they finished talking, darkness had descended, and Kalin grabbed her headlamp from her backpack. On her way out, she curbed the temptation to erase Ben’s name from the list.

  * * *

  Kalin arrived home and found Chica alone and prancing to get outside. Her meeting with Fred had gone longer than expected, but Ben should’ve been home to take care of Chica. The Goddess crept into Kalin’s thoughts and she pushed her out. No way was Ben with her.

  Chica raced through the door, brushing Kalin aside, and squatted in the nearest snow. Kalin wanted to crawl into bed and nurse her cold but instead reached inside and snagged Chica’s leash. “Let’s go.”

  Chica wiggled her body and wagged her tail with genuine dog exuberance, and Kalin clipped the leash onto her collar.

  She trudged through the snow, sticking to the tire tracks to make walking easier. Her phone rang four times by the time she fumbled it out of her jacket pocket.

  “Constable Miller here.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need to ask you where you were from four p.m. the day before Steve McKenzie was murdered until the next morning when he got on the hill.”

  Kalin stopped walking. “Am I a suspect?”

  “I’m just trying to place everyone.”

  “I worked until five thirty. I was with Monica Bellman until we closed the HR office. I walked home. Ben and I took our dog for a walk and then spent the night in. I was at work by eight thirty the next morning.”

 

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