Charlotte Pass

by Lee Christine

‘Detective Pierce Ryder,’ he said, shaking Eva’s hand.

  ‘Oh.’ She looked him up and down. ‘Pleased to meet you, Detective. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything.’

  ‘We were just finishing up.’

  ‘I would have been here earlier but I had to organise someone to look after the lodge. It took forever. Then, there was an accident at Bredbo. The drive today took nearly four hours.’

  ‘It’s okay, Eva. Don’t stress, you know Mum and Dad have been here since I was admitted. They only left half an hour ago.’

  ‘I know. We’re all staying at the same hotel.’

  ‘Mummy. I want to get up on the bed and kiss Auntie Nessa.’

  Ryder would have given anything to kiss Auntie Nessa too. And he would have given anything to have his daughter back. Conscious of Vanessa’s gaze on him, he smiled down at the little girl who was tugging at her mother’s jeans, the familiar deep yearning so strong it almost robbed him of breath. The child looked about the same age as Scarlett had been when she’d died.

  ‘This is Poppy,’ Eva said, blithely unaware of the tension in the room. ‘Say hello, sweetheart.’

  The little girl gazed at Ryder with clear blue eyes and twisted a strand of blonde hair around her tiny index finger. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi there.’ Ryder turned to Eva. ‘Would you like me to lift her up for you?’

  ‘Oh, thank you. She’s getting heavier by the day.’ Eva slipped Poppy’s Wiggles backpack off her shoulders, then dumped it in the corner. Ryder swung the child into the air then settled her on the bed beside her aunt. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Poppy, and for a few heady seconds both of them were holding her, their hands brushing, their eyes focused on the little girl between them.

  ‘Oh, Poppy.’ Vanessa hugged the child close, burying her face in her niece’s neck. ‘I’m so happy to see you both.’

  Ryder slid his hands into his pockets, then pulled them out again, remembering from some course or other that it was a sign a man didn’t feel like talking. And he did feel like talking to these two women and the sweet little girl.

  ‘I’ll go so you can catch up,’ he said, stepping away from the bed. Vanessa looked from him to Poppy and back again, her expression showing concern, as if she were worried about how he might be feeling. It gave Ryder hope. ‘As far as the investigation goes, I have everything I need for now,’ he said.

  By this time, Eva had pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed. She smiled at him. ‘It was nice to meet you.’

  ‘Get better soon,’ he said to Vanessa, feeling strange that he was leaving without touching her. But even a chaste kiss in front of her sister might be as unwelcome as it was inappropriate.

  ‘Wave goodbye to the detective, Poppy,’ Eva said.

  The little girl gave him a half-hearted wave. ‘Goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye, little one.’

  ‘What’s a de-tect? What did you call him, Mummy?’ Poppy demanded as he headed for the door.

  ‘Spend time with your family, Vanessa,’ Ryder said over his shoulder. ‘It’s the best medicine of all.’

  Thirty-nine

  Three months later

  Park City, Utah

  There were many things Vanessa loved about Park City Mountain Resort, but at the end of a long shift out on the hill being able to ride the town lift all the way into the main street topped her list. It was a shame, though, that every time the chair glided over the tops of the historic main street buildings, as it was doing now, it led to thoughts of another chairlift.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, she raised the safety bar and wriggled onto the edge of the seat. The mercury had dropped steadily in the past hour and, despite the heat pads she had put inside her gloves at lunchtime, her fingers were almost numb. So, it was with great anticipation that she looked forward to a glass of mulled wine in the bar on the other side of the street.

  Back on solid ground, she clicked out of her skis then hoisted them onto her shoulder, her footsteps muted by a fresh layer of snow. Light spilled onto the sidewalk, the old silver mining town reminding her of a scene from a thousand Christmas cards. She passed a cute little gallery, and The Egyptian Theatre, where every year the Sundance Film Festival was held. According to local lore, when Hollywood came to town, the streets were lined with Range Rovers parked bumper to bumper while bodyguards prowled the sidewalks like guard dogs.

  Leaving her skis in the racks outside, Vanessa unclipped her helmet then pushed open the heavy door. Sighting Terry at the bar, she zigzagged her way through the crowd until she reached him. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey.’ He swept his gear off the stool he’d been saving for her. ‘What’re you drinking?’

  ‘Glühwein, thanks.’ She unzipped her jacket and slipped it off while Terry ordered her drink from the barman.

  ‘How’d you go out there?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, fine.’ She added her jacket to the growing pile of ski paraphernalia on the floor.

  ‘Weather’s a bit brutal, hey?’

  ‘I thought it was me, getting old.’ She slid onto the stool, relieved to take the weight off her feet.

  ‘Never. You still up for the rodeo tonight?’

  She sighed. ‘How long’s the drive to Ogden?’ It had sounded like a great idea this morning but, after working all day, dinner and bed seemed much more inviting.

  ‘Only an hour. Come on. This is a real American rodeo with real American cowboys.’

  ‘Okay,’ Vanessa said with another sigh, watching as the barman set a fragrant glass of glühwein in front of her. She picked it up and clinked it against Terry’s beer bottle, the warm glass bringing the feeling back into her fingers almost straightaway. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘I was getting worried.’ Terry nodded at the TV mounted on the wall behind the bar. ‘It’s nine-thirty Sydney time. I thought you were going to miss it.’

  ‘I thought about bailing.’ Vanessa stared at the screen where a media scrum had gathered outside the District Court in Sydney. ‘I’m not in any hurry to see Smythe’s face again.’ But she was keen to catch a glimpse of a certain detective she hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

  Just then, the breakfast-show host switched to a reporter who was part of the scrum. The crowd around them fell silent as the barman turned up the volume.

  ‘In scenes reminiscent of the OJ Simpson and Oscar Pistorius trials,’ the reporter was saying, ‘this morning, former Australian skiing champion Aidan Smythe makes his second appearance in the District Court here in Phillip Street. Today he is to be formerly charged with the murder of Celia Miller, née Delaney, who disappeared mysteriously from Charlotte Pass back in 1964. Of course, Smythe has been in court before. Back in August, he was formerly charged with the murder of Libby Marken in July of this year.’

  The camera switched back to the breakfast-show host. ‘Yes, Emma, like those other high-profile sports cases you mentioned, this one is set to grip the nation, and the world. Do we know if Aidan Smythe has arrived at the courthouse yet?’

  ‘Yes,’ the reporter confirmed. ‘Approximately five minutes ago a prison van transporting the former ski champion pulled up at a side entrance to the court. Smythe was handcuffed and escorted into the building by prison guards.’

  Vanessa braced herself for a glimpse of Smythe as the footage showed the van turning into a narrow street. The tail-lights glowed red and the vehicle came to a stop. The camera switched back to the reporter. Vanessa blew out a relieved breath and glanced at the people around her. Most stood, transfixed, their glasses in hand. Some were shaking their head. The story was the talk of the ski industry, no less here in Utah, where Smythe had won a number of events during the height of his career.

  ‘It looks like it’s all happening down there in Phillip Street, Emma,’ the breakfast host said.

  ‘There’s been a steady procession of people entering the courthouse, including Aidan Smythe’s wife of more than forty years, and his children, who have flown in from their homes in Canada.’
/>   ‘There’s Ryder,’ Terry said suddenly.

  A white sedan had pulled into the kerb, its rear doors opening simultaneously. Vanessa didn’t recognise the man who climbed out on the roadside, but the tall one who stepped onto the kerb was painfully familiar. Dressed in a dark suit and white shirt, Ryder appeared taller, younger and slimmer on camera, or maybe she’d just got used to seeing him in bulky ski gear. He strode towards the entrance, casually buttoning his suit coat and ignoring the media. For once, his tie was perfectly knotted.

  And then the camera switched back to the studio.

  ‘Thank you, Emma. Well, as you can see, there’s a lot happening outside the courts. Stay tuned throughout the morning, because we’ll be bringing you regular updates on the formal charging of Aidan Smythe.’

  Vanessa drained her glass then put it on the bar with a thud.

  Terry raised an eyebrow. ‘Go again?’

  Vanessa hesitated for a a bit. ‘Maybe a Russian Mule will thaw me out.’

  Terry stared at her for a couple of seconds. ‘No offence, but I think the guy we just saw on screen has the best chance of doing that.’

  Vanessa gaped at her companion.

  Terry bumped his shoulder against hers. ‘All I’m saying is that you don’t seem to be very happy.’

  She stared at the colourful label on his beer bottle. ‘I didn’t realise it was so obvious.’

  ‘Only to me, because I know you.’ He began to rotate the beer bottle between his fingertips. ‘Anyway, the good news is you’ve given me hope.’

  Vanessa frowned. ‘For what?’

  ‘The future,’ he said with a grin. ‘That love can happen quickly. I mean, you totally fell for the bloke in less than two weeks. I should be so lucky.’

  ‘I did, didn’t I?’ she said with a rueful smile. ‘He brought me strawberries, too.’

  Terry frowned. ‘When?’

  ‘In the hospital. He brought them in a little basket all wrapped up with a card. I didn’t remember until later that he’d put it on the table. Anyway, it was full of strawberries. I’d told him this story, you see, about something that happened on the farm when I was little. He remembered.’

  ‘Hmm. Well, I realise I don’t have to like him, but I do … if that helps.’

  Vanessa’s phone vibrated before she could answer Terry. Sliding off the stool, she fished it from the pocket of her ski pants. Lewicki’s name was rolling across the screen. ‘It’s Lew,’ she said to Terry. ‘Mind my seat. I’d better take this outside.’

  Back in the sub-zero temperature, she sheltered from the icy wind in the doorway of an enchanting Christmas shop, and put the phone to her ear. ‘Hello, Lew.’

  ‘How’s my favourite ski patroller?’

  ‘Freezing my butt off at the moment. It’s five-thirty, and dark already.’

  ‘It’s bloody beautiful here in Sydney. I’m thinking of going out to the cricket.’

  Vanessa smiled. ‘Why aren’t you in court?’

  ‘No need for me to be there today. They’re only formalising the murder charges. The hearing won’t be for ages yet. I was calling you because I wasn’t sure you’d know.’

  ‘I’m not climbing K2, Lew. We’ve been watching it in the bar. Congratulations. You’ve waited a long time for justice to be done.’

  ‘Ryder did an excellent job getting Bruno to confess, but you were the one who put Smythe on his arse in the end.’

  ‘Well, I feel like it was a team effort.’

  ‘It was. I’m glad I lived long enough to see it, and relieved Celia’s parents are still alive and capable of understanding what happened all those years ago.’ He gave a weary, heartfelt sigh. A few seconds of silence followed, then: ‘Who knew that beneath that wholesome, polished exterior lay a dangerous narcissist, motivated by greed and money.’

  ‘A lot of people in positions of power are narcissists, Lew,’ she said, sensing Lewicki needed to talk. ‘They step over anyone to get what they what.’

  ‘But most of them don’t murder. Smythe did. He was desperate for the fame and adulation that his talent was going to bring him. And his rich wife was his back-up plan. He wasn’t going to let Celia ruin that for him.’

  ‘It sounds like you know a lot more about him now,’ Vanessa said.

  ‘That we do.’

  There was a crackle, and for a moment Vanessa thought the line was going to drop out, then Lew’s voice came through the speaker again.

  ‘They’re having a proper funeral for Celia soon, now her remains have been released,’ Lew said, his voice fading in and out. Vanessa pressed her phone harder against her ear. ‘Years ago, after the Coroner’s findings, the family had a memorial service, but that finding will be overturned now, and Celia can be properly laid to rest.’

  ‘I’m glad, Lew. I really am. And I bet your wife is happy you can close the book on this chapter of your life, too.’

  ‘She sure is. She’s lived this case along with me.’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s what you sign up for when you get married.’

  There was a long pause.

  Vanessa bit her lip. Bugger Lew. He was just waiting for her to ask about Ryder.

  ‘How is he?’ she asked tentatively. She’d spoken to Ryder a few times on the phone when she’d been staying at Eva’s and at her parents’ place, mainly to discuss the case and her testimony. He was back in Sydney then, busy gathering evidence for the police brief supporting the charges against Smythe. As the time drew closer for her to leave the country, his calls had grown less frequent. The last few times it had been Flowers who’d called.

  ‘He’s really well, Vanessa.’

  Vanessa’s heart grew a little lighter. ‘He is?’

  ‘Yep. It’s like he’s finally turned a corner. I think a lot of that is due to you.’

  Happy tears pricked the backs of Vanessa’s eyes, and she smiled. Ryder was a good, decent man, and she wanted him to be happy. ‘Oh, I don’t know if I had anything to do with it.’

  ‘You did. That’s what he told me, and you know what he’s like.’

  ‘Yes, he keeps things close to his chest.’

  There was a brief pause, then Lew said, ‘Well, he found out who his friends were a long time ago. But the other day he said he realised everyone had forgiven him for the accident that had killed Scarlett—but that it was you who made him realise it was time he forgave himself.’

  ‘Oh, really, that’s so great,’ Vanessa said thickly, tears slipping from her eyes and freezing on her cheeks. ‘I’m happy for him.’

  ‘He told Annie that if he wasn’t run off his feet with the preparation for these cases, he’d take leave and go after you.’

  Vanessa stood stock still, speechless. Why hadn’t Ryder told her this himself? And why had he stopped calling her?

  Because you couldn’t get past him pointing a gun at you.

  Because you told him he terrified you.

  A shout of laughter from a group of people on the street made her whirl around. She needed to think, and she couldn’t concentrate out here with the cold numbing her mind. And she wasn’t sure what Ryder would do if he knew Lewicki was telling her this.

  She stared at a cute decoration hanging in the Christmas shop window. It was a moose, wearing skis and a joyous expression. How long had it been since she’d felt such joy at the prospect of skiing? ‘Lew, I’m really sorry, I have to get going.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’

  ‘Yes, a few of us are heading into Ogden to watch a rodeo.’

  ‘Sounds like fun. Take care of yourself.’

  ‘I will. You too.’

  She ended the call without asking him to say hello to Ryder.

  Terry was impatient to go when she got back to the bar. ‘Come on, we’ll be late,’ he said, shrugging on his jacket.

  Vanessa swallowed, her throat a little raspy from the tears and the freezing air. ‘You know what? I think I’ll give it a miss. I’ve decided to go home.’

  He gave her a curious look. ‘O
kay. Maybe an early night will do you good. I’ll see you in the morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, hey?’

  Vanessa shook her head. She hated doing this but, in her heart, she knew it was the right thing. ‘I’m sorry, Terry. What I meant was, I’m going home—to Australia.’

  Forty

  Two weeks later

  Newcastle

  Ryder stood up from the table and carried his empty plate into the kitchen. ‘That was fantastic, Mum.’

  ‘It was only a hot breakfast. Here, give me the plate so I can put it in the dishwasher.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Did I tell you how nice you look?’ she asked.

  Ryder smiled. His mother was thrilled to have him home so she could look after him for the next few days. He was more than capable of looking after himself, but to deny her the pleasure would be mean-spirited. ‘Yes, you have, about three times already.’

  ‘Well, you always look good in a suit, and that’s a particularly sharp-looking one.’

  Ryder leaned against the gleaming countertop and folded his arms. ‘Once the funeral’s over, it’ll be shorts and T-shirts for the rest of my holiday.’

  ‘You deserve some time off after arresting that awful man.’ She hit some buttons and switched on the dishwasher. ‘Dad and I have been worried about you.’

  ‘I’m okay now. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come to stay.’

  His mother straightened and wiped her hands on a towel. ‘You needed to heal, Pierce. Some people were curious, others well-meaning and a lot downright judgemental. Your father and I understood that.’

  His mother was right. He had needed time away, because he hadn’t been able to stop the bleeding. Ryder pushed himself off the bench and went to hug his mother. ‘What I didn’t need was time away from you guys, though. That was a mistake. One of a string I think I’ve made.’ And that included not calling Vanessa and telling her how he felt about her. Instead, he’d let her leave for the States, believing she needed time to come to terms with her own trauma, some of which he had caused.

  ‘You’re too hard on yourself, Pierce. I don’t know who you take after, but you hold yourself to a higher standard than the rest of us. That’s why you’re so good at your job.’