Once we were again on the snow, Andreas took Sylvia aside, presumably to test the limits of her skiing ability. Trevor and Bob hovered nearby, while I waited not so patiently for instructions from my husband. Today I’d promised to do whatever he asked, no questions.
I watched as Andreas lead Sylvia through some kind of drill, demonstrating bending his knee into a turn, exaggerating it, helping her repeat the move. Once, he glanced over at me, and I could only surmise that Sylvia had given him her version of the near disaster the day before. And then she purposely led me down a run I had no business on. Tried to kill me, in fact.
Andreas motioned to us, told us to go on ahead, to meet him and Sylvia at the bottom near the chair.
Finally, I could let loose. I swooped down the mountain, bypassed the beginner run and instead dropped into a blue run, Velvet Falls, waving for Trevor and Bob to follow. They did, and the three of us whooped and hollered on our way down, not stopping until we’d reached the bottom of the slope near the chair.
I was laughing, out of breath.
“Wow, you were great, Gwyn,” said Bob. “I saw that little jump, but I was afraid to take it, but not you.”
“I probably shouldn’t have. I don’t know how well these bindings are set. I could have released on the landing.”
Trevor smiled at me too, then looked up the slope. “I think that’s them over on the right.”
Sylvia and Andreas slowly made their approach. Sylvia was all smiles. They stopped and she reached up, placed her hand on her ski instructor’s shoulder. “According to Andreas, I’ll be skiing like a pro by the end of the day.”
He pointed skyward. “Ve’ll be going all da vey to da top of Sam’s Knob dis time.”
Again, Sylvia and Andreas took the first chair and we followed behind. I was glad Sylvia had hired an instructor because it looked as if she wouldn’t get an opportunity to sit near Trevor the entire afternoon.
From the top, ski runs spread out in several different directions down the face. Andreas led Sylvia off onto Max Park, another beginner run, and the three of us took Banzai Ridge, a blue run that paralleled Max Park until it turned into an easy green run, Lunch Line, and traversed the mountain. Again, we were to meet them at the bottom.
I led the way down the slope-finally having fun. I cruised at high speed, aware that Bob and Trevor were somewhere behind me. I stopped just past the Lunch Line cutoff and waited for the two men, but only Bob came into view and skied up beside me.
“What happened to Trevor?” I asked.
“Don’t know. He was behind me. Maybe he stopped for something.”
We waited for several minutes, then continued on down. I wasn’t worried. This run wasn’t difficult. Trevor could handle it easily. Maybe he was fiddling with something, or had taken a freak fall and was dusting himself off.
We waited at the bottom, and I was disgusted to see Trevor come into view skiing slowly down the mountain with Sylvia and Andreas.
Trevor and Andreas were having a conversation as they skied up, then Trevor slid over to me. “Thought I’d take advantage and get some pointers. He’s good.”
At first I didn’t say anything-then, “Thanks for telling me. I didn’t know what happened to you.”
“I ran into them at the cutoff and Andreas yelled over for me.”
“Oh, I see.”
I didn’t talk much to Trevor until lunch at the restaurant atop Sam’s Knob. Though I was pissed again, it wouldn’t do any good to express it, because I’d agreed earlier to be a good girl today and not cause trouble. Trevor would be the first to remind me of it.
After lunch, we headed to the Big Burn, the entire top of that peak covered with long wide-open cruising runs, mostly blue, intermediate, and easy. Sylvia would have room to maneuver without putting her thick skull in danger.
Even so, she appeared to be frightened, and wasn’t waving back at us from the chair as she had the entire day. She sat close to the instructor, who probably also sensed her fear, and placed his arm behind her on the chair.
This time I waited for Trevor to begin skiing first, so he couldn’t dart off and leave me. But he stayed with Bob, the two of them watching Sylvia’s slow progress down the slope.
I was impressed with Andreas. Whatever he had done, whatever he had said to her was actually working. He had brought about a change in Sylvia’s skiing. She was doing better, her turns exhibiting a fluidity of motion I wouldn’t have thought possible in so short a time. Partway down the Big Burn, Andreas instructed her to follow him, repeating his turns, slowing her down.
Sylvia was jubilant by the time we stopped for a rest near the chair. “I love him,” she said as Andreas skied over to cut the line. “I have his card. I’m never going to hire anyone else. I told him I’d pay him double, triple, what he normally gets for a lesson. I may ask him to move in with me for the winter.”
We stayed on the Big Burn for the rest of the afternoon, Sylvia more eager to continue than anyone else.
Bob had tired and was anxious to call it a day.
“Oh, one more run,” Sylvia pleaded with him. “Just one more.”
“You go,” he said. “I think the rest of us are done.”
“Are you, Trevor?” she asked.
He shrugged.
She glanced at me. “I don’t think so, Sylvia.”
“Oh, all right. Andreas and I will ski one more time and meet you down here, unless you don’t want to wait for me.”
“We’ll wait,” said Bob.
The three of us found an empty picnic table facing the slopes, and Bob and Trevor ordered beers from the slope-side café and brought them outside into the sunshine.
“It’s been a great weekend,” said Bob. “I’m glad the two of you could make it. We’ll have to do this again soon.”
“You name the day,” said Trevor.
Not in this lifetime, I thought, but said agreeably, “Yes, we had a great weekend, Bob. Thank you so much, for everything.”
“I can’t take the credit,” he admitted. “It was totally Sylvia’s idea, but she gets some great ideas, like bringing Trevor on board. That was one of her best.”
And I remembered suddenly the conversations I’d had with Trevor when the project started, only Robert Morris was mentioned. Sylvia didn’t exist as far as I knew.
I didn’t risk a look at Trevor, better to play dumb about this too.
But I wondered, later, as I packed up to leave for home, just how long Trevor had actually known Sylvia Breslin.
Chapter 14
Feeling vulnerable, I crossed my arms as I walked into Janet’s office the following Wednesday morning. Somehow, needing to see my therapist again felt like a personal failure. But it was all so confusing now. I didn’t know whom to trust, what to believe, where to turn.
Janet stood in the corner of the room, closing a file drawer. She looked up at me and smiled. “Hi, Gwyn. Cold out there, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I said, unfolding my arms. “And it’s snowing pretty hard.”
“Supposed to get five inches.”
“Yes, I heard that too.” I settled into my favorite chair facing the window and watched as snowflakes fell softly out in her courtyard.
She walked over and took a seat across from me.
“How are things with you, Gwyn?”
“Well, you know, just once I’d like to come in here and say, wonderful, never better. But, of course, I’d be lying.”
Janet laughed softly. “Well, maybe that day isn’t too far off. You do appear troubled, tense. Am I right?”
“If I were a coiled spring I’d be bouncing around the room.”
“That bad.”
“I suppose I should have made an appointment sooner than this. I haven’t been following your advice. I’ve been keeping things, a lot of things from you. But I really hoped to handle this on my own. Unfortunately, I can’t.”
“Oh.”
“I found a letter that my sister Kelly wrote. She must have writte
n it shortly before she died. I’m certain she didn’t want me or Linda to find it, because it was taped to the inside of her dresser. The only reason I did find it was because it came loose and got caught as I was trying to open the drawer. She wrote that she’d been screwing her ‘sister’s boyfriend’ and was scared for her life. She also implied that this man may have killed a woman, a girlfriend possibly. That part wasn’t clear. She also said there was a box, that he may have found ‘the box.’ I have the letter in my purse if you’d like to see it.”
“Yes, I would.”
I handed it to her.
Janet read it, then looked up at me. “How long have you had this?”
“Since around Halloween. And there’s something else I’m very worried about, though I don’t know if one has anything to do with the other. I think Trevor may be having an affair, possibly with a woman I met this past weekend. I’m not certain about the woman. It could be someone else. And I could be wrong altogether. I hope I am. But I came home after a weekend away and smelled another woman’s perfume on my pillow. It definitely wasn’t mine.”
“This letter does seem authentic. If it is, then I definitely would be worried too. Who else have you told about this?”
“Linda, she’s the only one.”
“And what did she say?”
“Actually, she refused to believe it. She thought that Kelly made it up, that she wanted us to find it, in order to drive us crazy. Of course, Kelly did write a lot of fiction, short stories, poems, but nothing like this. And if she was making it up, why would she hide it?”
“Linda didn’t suggest that you notify the police?”
“No, not at first. But I didn’t want that either. Not until we could find out more. We’ve since hired a private investigator to do a background check on Trevor and Wolfgang.”
“And?”
“And … nothing. Nothing at all,” I said, choosing to leave out the information about Trevor’s father. It didn’t seem sufficiently relevant at this point.
“Nothing on either man?”
“Well, I didn’t see Linda’s report. She wouldn’t let me. But she swore there was nothing bad about Wolfgang. Unfortunately, I have a difficult time believing that.” I shifted in my chair. “And there’s a third person that Kelly could have been talking about, Josh, the guy I dated just before Trevor. I can’t see how he could possibly be involved in any of this, but he was my boyfriend, and he did know Kelly very well.”
“Gwyn, I think you should give this letter to the police and let them handle it.”
“And not tell Trevor? But maybe I should tell him first?”
“No. I don’t think so. I mean-”
The look on her face scared me. “God, Janet, it’s not Trevor. It’s not. Trevor couldn’t hurt a fly. And what if Linda is right? What if Kelly made it up? I love my husband. We’re not on solid ground as it is. If he finds out I’ve kept all this from him, spied on him, and then the police pick him up….”
Janet stood. “That shouldn’t be your main concern. And I don’t think you should let anyone know you’ve confided in me either.”
“Not even Linda?”
“No. I hesitate to say this, because it could be nothing, but you’ve told me that Linda and Kelly didn’t get along. Did it ever occur to you that Linda found out about the affair?”
“Well, actually, it did, but I didn’t.… She would have said something.”
“She would have? You’re certain of that?”
“You’re not saying that Linda could in any way be responsible, are you?”
“I don’t know. My only concern is you.”
I turned and faced the window.
“I’m sorry if I’ve scared you, Gwyn. I can’t be sure if your sister is hiding anything. But not showing you the report on Wolfgang, suggesting Kelly’s letter has no significance, not insisting you both contact the police-”
“Linda did ask if we should go to the police. At the library, after she gave me the background check. I was the one who thought we should wait. I hadn’t read Trevor’s report yet.”
“Well, then certainly that could change things, but the police still need to know what’s going on.”
I turned again to face her. “Everything I say in here is confidential, isn’t it? It doesn’t leave this office?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll think about what you’ve said, Janet. I’ll give it some serious thought. Then I’ll make my decision.”
She slumped back in her chair.
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning to get myself killed. But as far as I’m concerned, the police haven’t done such a hot job of finding the man they believe murdered my sister, and I can’t think of any reason I should trust them now.”
I was so unnerved on the drive home that I didn’t see the squirrel dart over the snowbank and under my wheels until it was too late. I screamed, waiting for the telltale thump, then swiftly checked the rearview mirror. The squirrel had made it to the other side of the road. I watched as it scampered up a tree.
Janet had to be wrong. Linda had nothing to do with any of this. She loved Kelly, would never have hurt her. How ridiculous to even suggest it. But … would she cover for Wolfgang if she suspected that he was somehow involved? Loving him as obsessively as she did, would she choose to look the other way?
And the journals. Why did Linda throw out the journals? Was it really because they were moldy? Or was she afraid of what I might find in them?
Chapter 15
I stared at the phone in my studio. The number for the City of Glenwood Springs Police Department stared back at me on the speed dial. I picked up the receiver and listened to the dial tone, then carefully placed the receiver back down.
Instead, I dialed Linda.
She didn’t answer, and I waited as the answering machine voiced the recorded message, then beeped. I left my own message. “Hi Linda, received your invitation to the party. Of course, Trevor and I will be there. Just wondering about the dress code. Formal as usual? Call me back.”
I gazed across the studio at the easel turned to the wall, then rose and walked toward it. I studied the half-finished portrait of my youngest sister, then took a seat facing her. Maybe if Kelly and I stayed here together, some thought would come.
I picked up my palette and selected several tubes of paint, squeezed a dollop from each. I studied the photograph tacked to the wall and positioned the easel, then picked up a fine-tipped brush. Concentrating, I watched the brush move, as if guiding my hand, down the curve of my sister’s cheek.
An hour later, Linda called.
“Got your message,” she said, “though, of course, I assumed you’d be attending the party.”
“Yes, but I thought it might be nice to call anyway.”
“And the dress is semiformal, same as last year. We are planning to do something a little different after the party. It’s not my idea, believe me, and you’re not obligated to join in, though it might be fun. Then again, maybe it will be too cold.”
“What?”
“Wolfgang wants to rent snowmobiles, go tearing around the property on the trails, have everybody bring warm clothes and change, build a bonfire. It’s a radical idea.”
“For sure. And we do this after the party’s over?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that is different.”
“Maybe we can just let the men go out on their own.”
“They’ll all be drunk.”
“True, though I could have the bartender water down the drinks after the first couple. I just may do that. But you’re right. It’s probably not the best timing.”
“I’ll mention it to Trevor.”
“So, how’s everything? Looking forward to Christmas?”
Not especially, I wanted to say, but instead gave a stock answer. “Sure, but I have a lot of shopping left to do. I’ve barely started on Trevor’s gift list.”
“What does he want?”
“Oh, whatever I decide t
o give him, but nice, of course. I have a few things, a watch he mentioned, cuff links, a leather jacket he admired and tried on a few days ago. And he wants a sports car, maybe a Porsche, to drive around this summer. Though I can’t exactly put that under the tree.”
“No.”
“Is Wolfgang there?”
“No, he’s still at work.”
“I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should inform the police about the letter.”
“What now? Right now? Before Christmas, before I go on vacation, before my party? No, bad idea. Very bad idea.”
“Then when?”
“I don’t know, but not now. And I thought we were going to do a background check on Josh, first. Isn’t that what we said?”
“We’re not detectives, Linda. We’re two scared wives afraid that someone’s going to send our husbands to jail. We’re not equipped for this. We can’t think rationally.”
“No, we’re being sensible. I’m still not sure Kelly didn’t make it up, or exaggerated it, or-”
“You know she didn’t.”
Linda was silent, and I could almost sense her shifting gears. “And how do you think showing the police the letter is really going to help us? What? Now they’ll stop looking for Craig? Who, by the way, they haven’t been able to locate so far.… So now they’ll focus on our husbands, or maybe poor Josh, the guy you’ve already put through holy hell and doesn’t deserve any more crap from you than he’s already gotten. And if it does turn out that our husbands are innocent, or even guilty, but with no evidence to convict, how do you suppose they’re going to feel about us? I don’t see Wolfgang massaging my back with scented oils after putting him through all that.”
“We can’t just sit and wait, Linda.”
“All right. Then we’ll do it after I get back from Hawaii. Please, Gwyn, don’t spoil my vacation. I deserve a break from all this. We both do. Come on, how much possible difference can a few weeks make?”
I hesitated, frustrated, growing angry. “All the difference in the world. Anything could happen. I don’t like this at all. I’m scared.”
“Please, Gwyn. I don’t ask much from you. Do this for me. It’s going to be okay. Really.”
Her Last Letter Page 18