A Story to Kill

by Lynn Cahoon

  Life was good. She whispered the one word, “Home.” She hadn’t known Aspen Hills could ever feel like home again. And Cat felt more at peace than she had in years.

  “Come away from the door, you’ll freeze us out of here,” Shauna called from the stove where she’d started the stew.

  As she went to shut the door, Uncle Pete appeared in the doorway. She kissed her uncle’s cheek and helped him out of his coat. “I didn’t hear your car.”

  “I walked over from the house. I figure it’s long past time to tell you what you need to know.” He stomped his boots on the welcome mat before walking into the kitchen.

  Cat shut the door behind him, wondering what was so important to bring her uncle out on a chilly evening. “Let’s go into Michael’s study and talk.” She shook her head. “Someday I’m going to start calling it ‘the’ study.”

  “I’ll bring by hot chocolate in a few for you both,” Shauna called after them.

  Today, Cat had spent some time lounging in the study’s big easy chair, reading Michael’s journal. Having finished the first draft of her book, Cat was letting it rest, so she’d been anxious to work on something else for a while. Yesterday she’d boxed up all the papers from what they were now calling Michael’s secret lair and set the computer up in his old office.

  She didn’t read long each day, just enough to make notes on a few pages. The emotions that hit her as she read were unexpected and threw her back in time to when their marriage had been perfect. At least, she’d thought it had been perfect.

  Uncle Pete took in the room. “Looks like you’ve been spending some time in here.”

  “Just stirring up old memories. I’m not really sure what I expected to find in all this, but the journal portrays the Michael I fell in love with, not the monster I divorced.” She sighed and moved the journal so she could sit down. “What brought you over today? News about Larry?”

  Uncle Pete sat on the chair facing her and leaned back. “I always loved these chairs. Your ex knew how to be comfortable.”

  “And you seem to know how to avoid answering a question.” Cat smiled at her uncle. “Don’t tell me Larry’s going free?”

  “That wouldn’t happen even if he hadn’t confessed to murdering Tom to so many witnesses. No, he’s being transferred to the county lockup to prepare for trial, so expect to be called in to testify if he pleads not guilty.” Uncle Pete leaned his forearms on his knees and templed his fingers together. “Actually, I think it’s time we talked about Michael’s death.”

  Cat’s stomach twisted a bit, and she regretted that last cup of coffee she’d consumed a few minutes ago. “What about it? He is dead, right? You said you saw the body.”

  He waved his hands downward. “Calm down. I want you to know, I questioned the coroner’s report. I don’t think Michael died of a natural heart attack. The guy was in great health. The college makes him get a physical every year, and his doctor was shocked when I told him what had happened. There were no signs.”

  Cat thought about Michael’s habit of running every morning. He’d even dragged her out of bed a few times to join him. “Sometimes it happens that way.”

  “I know, but I had the crime-scene guys come in when we first found his body in this room. They didn’t find any fingerprints where his body was found.” He paused letting the information settle.

  “Isn’t that good?” Now she was confused.

  He looked around the room and Cat could see he was remembering the scene. He turned back and shook his head. “No fingerprints at all. Not his, not yours, not even from the housekeeper he hired after you moved out. The room had been wiped clean.”

  *

  Cat stayed in the study for a while longer after Uncle Pete had dropped his bombshell. He hadn’t come right out and said Michael had been murdered, but there had been clearly too many unanswered questions at the time for her uncle’s taste. She stared at the journal, wondering what other secrets it held. The whole thing was weird. Even Michael keeping her in the will and passing on the house to her. Had she even known her husband at all?

  She heard Shauna walking down the hallway to tell her dinner was ready. It was time to close the door on this mystery, at least for a while. She’d pull a Scarlett and think about it tomorrow, when the darkening sky outside the windows didn’t make her shiver. Tomorrow would be soon enough to face the growing questions.

  Tomorrow she would read the rest of the journal.

  *

  As much as I love having Catherine here with me, especially as she sleeps next to me, I know I’ve made a huge mistake. I’ve put her in danger. What started out as a fun project has turned into something more sinister. I can’t believe what the conglomerate has been hiding all these years. I’m sure they hired me thinking I’d miss the signs of their deceit and give my approval to their financial fitness. But they hired the wrong small-college economist if they wanted just a yes man. I need to keep silent until I’ve discovered the evidence that will put these big shots away for life.

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  Chapter 1

  The world outside still clung to the previous night, the shadows not quite releasing their hold to the breaking light over the mountain ridge outside Aspen Hills, Colorado. With the first rays of morning, the fresh snow glistened and covered the lawn all around 700 Warm Springs.

  Cat Latimer, owner of the Warm Springs Writer’s Retreat, sat at the kitchen table drinking a mix of hot chocolate and coffee. Cat thought Shauna’s winter concoction, with a dab of freshly whipped cream, just about the most perfect drink ever invented. The group sitting around the table was drinking the “virgin” version. Retreat guests had the option of adding a shot of Baileys Irish Cream or Kahlúa to their cups. Just the smell of coffee and chocolate mixed together made her sigh in delight.

  “I can’t believe you’re taking the group up the mountain. I thought this was supposed to be about writing. They aren’t going to get many words down by spending the day skiing.” Uncle Pete had become a regular at the breakfast table, when the retreat was in session and when it was just Cat and Shauna milling around the empty house.

  “It’s part of the Colorado experience,” Cat explained, thinking about her own manuscript sitting on her computer waiting for her to make time to write. During the first retreat, she’d managed to get a few pages written—before one of her guest wound up dead in his room. This retreat she’d promised herself that she’d focus on her own work, even when they had guests. Shauna was in charge of the day-to-day activities when the retreat was in session. Cat’s job was to be the resident writer. And to set a good example as a professional writer.

  But today was about building relationships and having experiences. Writers needed both.

  “Who do you have visiting this month? Anyone I need to put some eyes on?” Uncle Pete was the police chief and overprotective when it came to Cat. At least that was her experience. Cat had moved back when her ex-husband had died and left her the huge Victorian. She and Michael had bought it when their marriage was young, before he started cheating.

  Now the house was hers. Karma was sweet.

  “We have five guests, including the student from the college. They’re writing sweet romance, paranormal suspense, speculative fiction, non-fiction, and poetry. They all seem pretty harmless.” Cat had a list of the guests in front of her. “Although one’s not joining in the ski trip. Bella Neighbors told me last night she has no interest in skiing or going outside in this weather.”

  The door blew open, and on the wind a few snowflakes entered around the tall man covered in skiwear. “Who ever said that is a smart cookie. It’s c-c-c-cold out there.”

  Cat watched as Seth Howard stomped his feet, then shrugged out of his heavy coat and sat on the bench to take off his shoes. Seth had been her high-school sweetheart, and a
pparently, was now her after-divorce boyfriend. “We’ll be one guest shy on the ski trip.” She focused on Shauna. “You going to be okay here alone?”

  Her second-in-command, Shauna Mary Clodagh, ex-bartender, amazing cook, and Cat’s best friend, nodded. “We’ll be good. Miss Bella can write or go wandering through town, and I’ll have a fine dinner of shepherd’s pie waiting for you when you get back.”

  “Sounds great.” Seth made his way over to the table, taking the cup Shauna held out for him. He kissed Cat on her neck, then sat next to her. “Hey, Pete. How are things in Aspen Hills?”

  “If we didn’t have the book thief over at the college, my days would be filled with counted cross-stitch.” The big man drained his cup and stood. “I’m heading back to the station. You guys be careful on the road to the ski resort. I’m getting reports of slide-offs every day.”

  “I put the chains on the tires just now. We should be fine.” Seth sipped his coffee. “I hear that guy stole some rare books from the library. You got any suspects?”

  Uncle Pete pulled his belt upward and put on his coat. “I can’t comment on an open investigation, but since I have squat for evidence, I guess I still can’t comment on nothing.”

  “See you tomorrow?” Cat called after him as he made his way to the kitchen door.

  Uncle Pete didn’t turn around as he waved. “Yep.”

  Cat watched through the window as he made his way to his police car. The black Charger looked more like a white hill, so much snow had fallen in the hour her uncle had been visiting. She looked at Shauna and Seth. “Does he look tired to you?”

  “You worry too much. Your uncle looks fine.” Seth took the plate of fried potatoes and ham Shauna handed him. “Thanks.”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t eat as much as usual.” Shauna returned to the counter where she was finishing the buffet items for the guests. “I think the college is putting pressure on him about those missing books.”

  “That could be it.” Cat wasn’t convinced, and tomorrow she’d confront him about the last time he had a physical. She took her plate to the sink and poured herself another cup of coffee. Glancing around the kitchen, she paused. “Do you need help with anything?”

  “No. I’ve got it handled.” Shauna waved her away from the stove. “I don’t need you messing in my kitchen.”

  Cat put up her hands. “Fine, I was just asking.” She focused on Seth. “When are we leaving?”

  “No later than ten. So, yeah, you have time to sneak up to your office and write. I’ll come get you when we’re ready to go.” Seth didn’t look up from his plate of food. “Just be ready to lose when we race down Mountain Top.”

  “Who said we were racing?” Cat smiled at the memory of winters growing up skiing at the local resort. Back then, they’d gotten their season passes as early Christmas gifts as soon as the snow arrived.

  This time he did look up, and the look he gave her seared her with desire. “We always race.”

  She ignored his comment and left the kitchen with a filled carafe of coffee Shauna handed her wordlessly. Her office was in the third-floor turret, the same floor where she and Shauna had bedrooms. The guest rooms were all on the second floor, with the first floor open for guest use.

  Except for Michael’s office. She had locked that room.

  She opened her office, turned on her computer, and got lost in the world of her teenage witch trying to navigate the horrors of high school.

  True to his word, a knock sounded on her door exactly at ten. She saved her document, then turned off her computer. The writing was done for today. “Just a minute.”

  When she opened the door, Seth walked her back to the wall and kissed her. She relaxed into his kiss, feeling the desire she’d only just brushed away a few hours ago flow through her. After a few minutes, she turned her head and whispered in his ear, “I thought we had to leave.”

  He groaned and stepped away from her. “We do.”

  Everyone had already loaded into the van by the time they got downstairs, and Cat slipped into her ski jacket. Shauna handed her a bag. When she peeked inside, she saw a thermos of cocoa and what looked like a Tupperware container of sandwiches. “In case we get snowed in?”

  Shauna shrugged. “I know they just ate, but sometimes people need a little something to tide them over.”

  Her friend had been right. The sandwiches were gone before they hit the Little Ski Hill’s parking lot. As they unloaded their passengers, Cat gave everyone a card with her cell and the house number listed. “Call if you need something. We’ll be meeting in the great room in the main lodge at three to head back to the house.”

  As the guests made their way to the rental shack, Seth took their equipment down from the rack on top of the SUV. “Do you have a season pass?”

  She stared at him. His pass was laminated and hung on a chain around his neck.

  “I guess you’ll have to stand in line with the newbies then.” He started to turn away but Cat stopped him by putting a hand on his jacket.

  “Unless you mean this?” She pulled out the season pass she’d bought last month when the ski hill had been advertising a buy one, get one half-off sale for Aspen Hills residents. She and Shauna had already been up to the resort a few times.

  He grinned and grabbed her skis. “Bring along the poles and we’ll get going. The line for the chair lift gets busy on Saturdays.”

  They skied together for hours, taking the same runs they’d skied when they’d been in high school. The snow was powder, and Cat felt like she was running on feathers except for the spray of cold that sometimes snuck around her goggles and scarf. Rays of sunshine on the hillside turned the white into bright. Ending a run, Cat waved Seth over as they slid into the area around the lodge. “Let’s go in and warm up.”

  They took off their skis and left them and the poles near the door. Stamping the snow off her boots, she stepped into the warm lodge. She pulled off her gloves and took out her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed any calls. She hadn’t, but she was shocked at the time. Two already. They only had another hour before they would be meeting up with the guests. Laughter echoed out of the bar area and they followed it inside.

  They squeezed into the last two seats on the edge of the bar. “What can I get you?” A man in his early twenties stood in front of Cat and cleared the empty glasses and wiped the bar.

  “I’ll have a coffee, black.” Seth looked at Cat. “Merlot for you?”

  Cat pulled the knitted hat off her head. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll take a beer. You got a dark on draft?”

  “Of course. Let me get you a sample.” He walked away toward the taps.

  “You see any of the guests?” She looked around the crowded bar but before she could recognize anyone, the bartender was back.

  “Tell me if you like it.” He pushed a small glass filled with a dark amber liquid toward Cat, then set a coffee cup in front of Seth. “You sure you don’t want me to jack that coffee up a bit?”

  “Black is fine. I’m the designated driver.” He took a sip of the brew.

  “Too bad, man. I make a mean mixed drink. You two are going to have to check out our condo rentals. They’re cheapest during the week when we don’t have out-of-town visitors.” He turned toward Cat who had finished the mini beer. “Do you like it?”

  “Most definitely.” She turned to Seth as the young man walked away to get her a normal pint of the draft. “I think he’s got a great idea about the condos. Maybe next week, when the retreat’s over, we should look into staying a few days.”

  “Ski by day and snuggle by night?” Seth raised his eyebrows. “I could be talked into playing hooky for a few days.”

  “You’re only working for me,” Cat reminded him.

  A loud cheer sounded from a table across the room. A very drunk woman stood on the table and downed what looked to Cat from this distance to be a boilermaker. A man swept her off the table and into his arms on the couch where they kissed so long, Cat became
uncomfortable watching them and turned back to Seth.

  “Kids.” She shrugged and sipped her beer.

  “That’s one of your writer guests.” He pointed out one of the women across the room. “Don’t know her name, but there’s another one, Nelson something.”

  Cat choked on her beer. “What did they do, just ignore the slopes and come right to the bar? That girl is hammered.”

  “And she’s kissing the wrong guy. He’s engaged.” Seth pointed to a third person sitting farther down on the bar watching the scene unfold on the couch. “There’s another one, the poet?”

  “Jeffrey,” Cat answered absently. “How do you know that other guy’s engaged?”

  “He’s Brittany’s fiancé. The bartender down at Bernie’s.” He looked at her. “Don’t you read the local papers?”

  “Not really. Shauna does. I’m busy.” She sipped her beer and glanced at the clock. “So we’re only missing one. Maybe we should start moving everyone to the van. I can call Jennifer and have her meet us there.”

  “No need. She’s at the same table with our party girl.” Seth shook his head. “Brit’s not going to like this one bit. And Bernie has connections.”

  “That’s just a rumor.” Cat finished her beer and dug in her purse for cash. Seth stilled her hand and took out his wallet, throwing some bills on the bar.

  “Not a rumor I would want to test out.” He looked at Cat. “I don’t think that guy’s going to like it if his future father-in-law finds out about his extracurricular activities. He might just be skiing down a mountain side with some concrete boots.”

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  Photo Credit: Angela Brewer Armstrong at Todd Studios

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho expat. She grew up living the small town life she now loves to write about. Currently, she’s living with her husband and two fur babies in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi River where her imagination tends to wander. Guidebook to Murder, Book 1 of the Tourist Trap series, won the 2015 Reader’s Crown award for Mystery Fiction.