Skiing is Murder

by Arnold, Carolyn

  Sean laughed. “We need you to wear something that no one here has seen you in.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that, and as she rummaged through his finds, she realized the brief fear was founded. None of these other articles would have been of her choosing. For under her coat, he had bought a patchwork block dress that fell to midthigh. It was to be paired with black leather leggings and pointy-toed high-heeled boots. Accessories included sunglasses, dangling earrings the size and shape of arrowheads, and a…a fringed suede purse?

  She held it up. “I’m exchanging my Louis Vuitton for this?”

  “Come on, darling, play along.” Sean was smiling.

  She narrowed her eyes and went back to rummaging through his purchases. He’d even bought high-end makeup. None of it was from anywhere on the color wheel she naturally gravitated toward, but it would give her a different look. So much for not staging a seventies revival. The fashion from that era was apparently back and flourishing.

  “What do you think?”

  “I love the coat.” She winced.

  “They said these items are very trendy right now. A girlfriend of Adrian’s would dress like this.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, incredulous. “So after I speak to the people at the front desk—”

  “You can’t wear any of this again. At least not here, not this week.”

  “Not exactly a concern or what I was going to ask, although this coat is definitely coming home with me.” She noticed the price tag dangling from a string at the cuff: $995.00 USD.

  In the past, this amount for a coat would have sent her stumbling and in search of a place to sit. It was still a lot of money, but when they were worth billions, it was a small investment to make to solve a murder. Not that she had any intention of billing the coat out as an expense. It was hers.

  “Now, see her?” Sean pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and then extended it to her. “See why I said a girlfriend of Adrian’s would dress this way?” He gestured to the bed.

  Sara looked at the screen. Adrian had his arm around a brunette. She was tall and slender with piercing blue eyes. She was dressed in a coat similar to the one Sara was wearing. Sara tore her eyes from the image. “You want me to pretend I’m her?”

  “Not necessarily, but all Adrian’s women seem to keep up on the latest fashions. At least the ones in the media’s eye. Oh, I almost forget.” Sean reached into a pocket and pulled out blue-colored contact lenses and handed them to Sara. “Just to give you a different look.”

  Sara took them from him, but she wasn’t that excited about putting them into her eyes. “You’re failing to remember that Adrian might have been traveling with someone. What if he was staying here with her?”

  Sean’s face fell contemplative. “You’re right. We don’t know.”

  “Maybe we should get Adam to hack into the resort’s system and see if he can get into the reservations. From there, he’d be able to find the occupancy for Adrian’s room. We’d know if he was traveling alone.”

  “Adam’s already busy. Besides, that wouldn’t tell us anything about that mysterious phone call to the front desk.”

  “True.”

  “And as far as Adrian being alone, I doubt he was often. I did a lot of googling on him.”

  “All right, first of all, at what point did googling actually become a verb? And second, when did you have a chance to do that?”

  “While I had the saleswomen shopping for you and on the way back to the room.”

  She could make some comment about the dangers of walking while looking at the phone. In her career as a cop, she’d seen it firsthand—a teenager texting and crossing against the light only to get hit by a car and paralyzed, or a drunk man, also on his phone, stepping out into traffic and getting struck. Sure, she could remind him of all this. Or she could tease him based on his gender.

  “So men can multitask.”

  He narrowed his eyes and lunged for her.

  She could have slipped out of his reach, but sometimes a girl wants to get caught.

  -

  Chapter 10

  REASONABLE DOUBT

  IT WASN’T EVEN NOON AND Sara was in the bathroom getting ready for the second time that day. Sean spent the time absentmindedly watching the skiers, his mind not on joining them but on solving Adrian’s murder.

  There was still no word from Adam on Adrian’s autopsy records. Maybe Adam had actually had trouble accessing the morgue’s database. They also hadn’t heard back from Dale Peterman yet, and that didn’t sit well. Dale had found out about Adrian’s death—and that Sean and Sara were at the resort—rather quickly. And he’d acted just as quickly to secure their services.

  His thinking was disrupted by both his phone ringing and Sara coming out of the bathroom.

  He took inventory of her appearance before consulting the caller ID on his phone, and just when he didn’t think the woman could be any more attractive… It really didn’t matter what she wore or that her brown eyes were now blue from the contact lenses. While he missed the flecks of green and gold in her natural color, the new look did her justice, as well. She had also tamed her brown curls straight and had drawn her hair into a tight bun. Her makeup was applied with a lighter brush than usual, with the exception of her eyelids, which were a deep plum. Black eyeliner and thick mascara finished off the look.

  He let out a whistle, and she waved him off. “Whoa! That lady at the cosmetic counter knew what she was talking about.”

  “Sean.” Sara was laughing and pointing at his phone. “Are you going to get that?”

  He’d actually forgotten all about it. Once his wife came out, the ringing had muted into the background. “If I must.” He kept his eyes on her as he answered. “Sean McKinley.”

  “This is Dale Peterman. You called?”

  You called? As if it were odd that Sean would want to talk to him.

  “I’m going to put you on speaker,” Sean said. He pressed the appropriate button and mouthed, Dale Peterman, to Sara. It was hard to focus with her looking the way she did. Maybe they should change their minds about taking this case and stay in the room.

  “Mr. Peterman, my wife, Sara, is also here.”

  “Mrs. McKinley,” Dale said in greeting.

  “Good morning,” Sara responded.

  “Good morning? So you figured out what happened to Adrian already?”

  Sara widened her eyes at Sean, and he guessed what she was thinking. This guy was a piece of work.

  “We just took on the case this morning,” Sean said.

  “Ah, yes. I just know your reputation of solving cases that no one else can.”

  Sean chose to disregard the candy-coated guilt trip. “We normally speak to new clients before we decide to take on a case. With you, we made an exception, but we do have questions.”

  “Shoot.”

  Based on Peterman’s tone of voice, Sean wasn’t sure whether he was saying shoot to have Sean proceed with the questions or cursing the fact they had questions.

  “Was Adrian here alone?” Sean asked.

  “He was staying by himself, but he’s never alone.”

  “What do you mean?” Sara leaned in closer to the phone. “Someone showed up and surprised him?”

  “Yeah, his girlfriend, Monique. But it was short-lived, and she turned around and flew home. The only reason I know that is because I called her to let her know about Adrian. She’s home now and heartbroken over Adrian’s death.”

  If Adrian lived up to his reputation as a player, Monique may have caught him with another woman. But surely all the woman would have to do is look online to see what kind of man Adrian was—allegedly.

  “Where does Monique live?” Sara inquired.

  “Michigan.”

  “Did she cut her stay short because of another woman?” Sean asked. “It’s
no secret that Adrian has a reputation of being—”

  “A playboy? Yes, I know.”

  “So that was why she returned home?” Sean pressed the matter.

  Dale remained quiet.

  Sara slid a sideways glance to Sean. “Did Monique know that Adrian slept around?”

  “She did, but she loved Adrian anyway, probably more than any of his other women. Their history goes back to before he became somebody.”

  “Sadly, when people become ‘somebody’ it can go to their heads,” Sean said.

  “That’s true, and I’m not going to lie and say that Adrian was a saint. He liked women, and they liked him back. But he wasn’t married so it wasn’t cheating.”

  What was wrong with the morals of the modern world when marriage defined whether a partner had cheated or not?

  “When did Monique return home?” Sara inquired.

  “She’s not behind his death.”

  “Then you won’t mind answering the question,” Sean stated coolly.

  “She returned last Thursday evening.”

  The call to the front desk checking Adrian out was made in the afternoon. Once Sara spoke to the clerks, they’d have more information on both the time of the call and whether it was a man or woman who had made it. Not that a man would eliminate Monique as a suspect. She could have hired someone to take him out. But if Monique was behind Adrian’s murder, why not kill him long before now? Did all the cheating just get to be too much?

  “What time did she land Thursday?” Sean asked.

  “Around nine, if I remember right.”

  “What time did her flight leave?”

  “Four thirty? Something like that. She might have had a layover in there. I don’t know. Listen, all I know is that Monique wouldn’t have done this. I’d vouch for her.”

  Sean looked at Sara. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he wondered why Dale was so certain Monique was innocent. “When did Monique show up?”

  “Monday.”

  “So they did spend some time together?” Sara asked.

  “I’d guess so.”

  Sean cleared his throat. “Mr. Peterman, why are you so positive she’s not involved in his death?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line for about thirty seconds before the agent answered. “Like I said, she knew about the other women. She was aware of what Adrian was, and she accepted it. The boy made millions last year. Monique benefited from all the freebies, as well. She’s a good-looking woman, and she often received free clothes to wear in front of the cameras, even if she was just sitting in the stands watching Adrian.”

  Sean wasn’t deterred. “But you don’t find it strange that she headed home the same day Adrian checked out? I don’t know how much you know about Adrian’s death, but—”

  “I know he died in the wee hours on Thursday and that he supposedly checked out Thursday afternoon. Yes, I get where you’re headed with Monique. And from the outside, I might see it how you do right now.”

  “All right. You said they spent a couple nights together. Why did she go home Thursday afternoon?” He thought he’d try asking the question again.

  “She was angry because she said Adrian just disappeared on her.”

  “We will need her information.”

  “Sure. Do you want me to send it to you or your office?”

  “Please send it to Helen.” After they finished up with Peterman, he’d message Helen to expect the information and pull a background report on Monique.

  “Consider it done.”

  “One more thing, Mr. Peterman,” Sara said. “How did you know Sean and I were here? And how did you find out about Adrian so quickly? They just found his body yesterday afternoon.”

  “I have people in place who watch over Adrian.”

  “And they didn’t see anything that might tie into his death? Obviously they weren’t watching him too closely,” Sean said.

  “Adrian was practically Houdini when it came to losing them. The last time they saw him was Wednesday night.”

  “And where was that?” He’d come back to why Dale had people watching Adrian in a moment. He just wanted to keep the man talking.

  “He had dinner at the Alpine. And before you ask, he ate alone.”

  So much for Adrian never being alone. “When did they lose him?”

  “Sometime after that. He never returned to his room.”

  Sara turned to Sean. “Maybe he met up with a lady friend?”

  “It’s quite possible.” Dale obviously took what Sara had said to Sean as directed at him.

  “Are your people still at the resort?” Sean asked.

  “They are. They told me you were there.”

  Sara touched Sean’s arm. “Is one a woman in her thirties, brown hair?”

  “Sounds like Gina. Brent’s with her.”

  “And what does Brent look like?” Sean asked.

  “I’ll do better than describing them. Gina’s staying in room two twelve and Brent’s in room five thirty-two.”

  “Last names?”

  “Huff and McCoy.”

  “Why do you have people watching over Adrian? Have there been threats on his life?” Sean wasn’t ready to let Dale go just yet.

  “No, not at all.”

  “So the reason, then?”

  “Oh, it’s not really important. He’s just worth a lot.”

  “So you’re saying Adrian was like a fine piece of art that needed security? He was a person,” Sara spat out.

  Dale remained silent.

  “You said there were no threats, but can you think of anyone who might have had something against Adrian, who might want to kill him?” Sean asked.

  “Any of the hundreds of other skiers who have lost to him. They all wanted to be him.”

  Sean rolled his eyes toward Sara, and she smiled.

  Dale continued. “Women knew—or should have known—what they were getting involved with when it came to him, so I can’t see it being a matter of jealousy.”

  Now he’s solving the case?

  “Who knew about Adrian’s trip here?” Sara asked.

  “That’s the thing. It wasn’t public information. He must have mentioned the trip to Monique.”

  “So it’s not possible that his being here got out to the media?” Sean was finding this rather hard to believe. Even if it wasn’t advertised per se, word about the trip would get out. The Internet shrank the world. It was conceivable that anyone at the resort who recognized him could have blasted it across social media platforms.

  “Now, I didn’t say that.”

  “All right. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions,” Sean said and hung up. He looked at Sara, brow furrowed. “Is it just me who finds this strange? If Dale had two people on Adrian, how did he give them the slip?”

  “And why?”

  Sean nodded and continued. “I know it’s still rather early, but given how fast news seems to travel between this guy and his employees, I wonder why Gina and Brent haven’t approached us yet.”

  “Very good point, darling. We better find out. We also need more on this Monique woman.”

  “And who knows if Dale is telling us the truth about Adrian traveling alone.”

  “You don’t believe Dale?”

  “We don’t know him, Sara. He could be a chronic liar.”

  “True.”

  She always liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, and it was something he loved about her, but it was also somewhat naive. His experience as a cop had taught him to presume guilt and be surprised by innocence. Sara never allowed herself to become cynical.

  “Well, we still need to know who called the front desk to cancel the rest of Adrian’s stay. Guess I better get down there.”

  -

  Chapter 11


  UNDERCOVER HIJINKS

  SARA’S GOAL WAS TO CONFIRM that Dale Peterman was telling the truth about Adrian traveling alone. She also hoped to find out whether it was a man or a woman who had called the front desk to check him out of the hotel. It was quite likely that caller was responsible for his death. She wondered if it could be one of the people Dale paid to watch over Adrian.

  She stepped out a back door of the resort, where the snow was falling in light, fluffy flakes. She would cut through the patio and then go around and enter the main doors. She wanted the front desk clerks to believe she just had arrived.

  Getting across the patio wasn’t easy, though. It required anticipating the movements of patrons and servers. It was only eleven, but business was booming.

  “Whoo-ee!” Catcalls trailed behind her, and men lowered their shades to ogle her. Apparently, she pulled off the new look.

  She kept moving and soon reached the lobby. She brushed off the flurries that clung to her coat and wiped her boots on the mat. She lifted her sunglasses and realized she already had the attention of two men at the front desk.

  Getting the information that she needed was going to be like taking candy from a baby.

  She split her gaze between the two clerks as she approached the counter.

  “I’m Tonya Burch.” She paused, waiting for them to recognize the name and ooh and ahh. Of course they’d have no reason to know the name because she made it up, but she feigned insult. She splayed a hand across her chest. “You do know who I am, I’d hope.”

  “Yes, yes, of course we do.” The older of the men wore a goofy smile and a button announcing him as Howard. He nudged the arm of the man beside him, Cliff according to his name tag. “Are you going to check Miss Burch in?”

  Howard was making the assumption that she wanted a room, but she’d play along.

  Cliff went to his computer. “Birch you say? B-I-R-C-H.”

  “No.” She threw in a dramatic eye roll. “B-U-R-C-H. I’m appalled that I had to spell this out for you. But anyway, I’m not here to check in.”