Skiing is Murder

by Arnold, Carolyn

  Inside, the aromas of garlic, fried onions, braised beef, lobster, and other delectable dishes flooded Sean’s sinuses. Voices droned in conversation, and there was laughter and regaling of the day’s adventures. One man, who was sitting with three others, was essentially reenacting something from his day. It involved skiing based on the swerving downward motion of his arm.

  Quite a few people were in line in front of them, each leaving with pagers after leaving their names. The hostess, a blonde in her late twenties, was standing behind her station and smiled at Sean and Sara as they approached.

  “How many?” the hostess asked Sean.

  “Two,” he answered.

  The hostess didn’t even consult the seating map. “There is a forty-five-minute wait. Name?”

  Sean didn’t like to use money to influence or manipulate people, but he wasn’t above slipping a little cash under-the-table to get a table, either. He pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and placed it on the top of the stand.

  Her eyes lit up, and she bit down on her bottom lip, a suppressed smile bulging her cheeks. She then cleared her throat. “I can’t accept this,” she said, but she still picked it up.

  “Of course you can.” Sean stood his ground. He wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. “There’s another hundred in it if you seat us in Stephanie’s section.”

  The hostess looked over her shoulder. Sean saw a brunette, also in her twenties, unloading a tray of drinks and setting them on a table in front of some patrons.

  By the time the hostess turned around, Sean had another hundred-dollar bill sitting out for her. “This can be our little secret.”

  Her eyes met his and she snatched the other bill. “Probably only five minutes.”

  “Better.” Sean smiled at her and stepped to the side with Sara.

  She was smirking. “Bribery, Sean?”

  “Solving murder waits for no man. Besides, the smell of the food here has my stomach rumbling.”

  It wasn’t even five minutes before the hostess was gesturing for them to follow her.

  “Hey, we were here first,” a man in his fifties bellowed above the crowd. His squat frame was easily carrying an extra fifty pounds.

  Sean faced him and put on a polite smile. “We had reservations.” He didn’t mention they were held under the name of Benjamin Franklin.

  -

  Chapter 16

  IN CHILLY PURSUIT

  “WELCOME TO THE CABIN. My name is Stephanie, and I’ll be your server this evening. Is this your first time here?” The brunette the hostess had looked at earlier stood at the edge of their table.

  “It is,” Sara replied with a smile, and it stilled Sean’s heart for half a beat. His wife really was a beautiful woman—inside and out—and she was all his.

  “Very nice that you were able to join us tonight.” Stephanie listed the specials, took their drink order, and then left. Both of them went with a nonalcoholic beverage.

  “Are you waiting until the end of the meal to ask her about Adrian?” Sara asked.

  “I think it’s probably best.” He noticed, however, that if Stephanie did know about Adrian’s death, she didn’t seem upset. She struck him like it could be any other Tuesday for her. While it was possible she hadn’t heard of his passing, it was unlikely. The entire community was buzzing by now with the news of the famous skier’s demise. Maybe she was the one who gave Adrian the insulin, and she didn’t feel any remorse over doing so.

  “I’m surprised that Dale hasn’t called us yet,” Sara said. “I thought our discussion with Gina and Brent would have gotten back to him before now. The news of our being here reached his ears quickly.”

  “Very true. Considering that we were asking about Monique, and he seemed so defensive of her, I thought he might have called, too. Though, Gina and Brent would have had to admit to everything they told or risk us sharing it with their boss. It could just be that Dale has nothing to hide.”

  “I disagree. He’s already withheld information from us,” she said. “First, not being forthcoming about why Gina and Brent were here watching Adrian. Second, he didn’t say anything about Adrian’s falling out with Tony. Whether that argument was real or fake, you’d think he’d have mentioned it. I still can’t help but think that the conflict between Adrian and Tony may have been more serious than others believe.”

  “I agree.”

  Stephanie returned with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order. They hadn’t even looked at the menus yet, so Sean turned her away.

  “She’s acting like it’s any other day. I mean, she doesn’t seem upset at all,” Sean shared his observation with Sara.

  “There’s no indication she even knows Adrian’s dead.”

  The sound of smashing plates, metallic pinging of utensils bouncing off the tile, and shattering glass swept through the dining room.

  Sean looked around Sara, and a few tables away stood Stephanie, an empty tray dangling from her hand. Her eyes were wide and full of tears. She was staring straight at him. She must have heard Sara above all the noise in the place. But what worried him was the fire in the girl’s eyes.

  Sean shot to his feet. “We’ve got to move.”

  Stephanie bolted toward the kitchen and had a good head start on him.

  Sean didn’t look over his shoulder, but he heard Sara’s footfalls behind him. The din of the restaurant became silent with people suspending their conversations and watching them run after the waitress. Even the volume of the music seemed to have been lowered.

  Pots and pans clanged as Sean breached the swinging doors. Food was strewn across the floor, having spilled from the cookware. His feet slipped across a creamy liquid, and he almost landed on his backside.

  He turned to warn Sara to watch her step and found himself right where he didn’t want to be—on his rear end, sitting in…

  He lifted his hands from the floor, spaghetti hanging from the fingers of one hand and a white sauce coating the other. He suddenly began to feel it burn.

  He hurried to his feet, searching franticly for a napkin or towel. He had to settle with wiping his hands on his pant legs. The kitchen staff all seemed paralyzed.

  Sara touched his shoulder and then kept moving past him.

  SARA FELT BAD LEAVING SEAN there in the kitchen, covered in food, but if they lost Stephanie now, they might not find her again—especially if she was involved in Adrian’s death.

  A metal door banged shut, and Sara headed in the direction of the sound. It was probably an employee entrance to the restaurant.

  She was well aware of the staff watching her as she rushed through the scullery. She saw their gaping mouths and wide eyes. This pursuit was probably the most action the kitchen had ever seen.

  She found the door and swung it open. She pushed her way into a back alleyway. Snow was still falling softly and would have made the perfect backdrop for a Christmas movie.

  Sara searched left, then right, hoping to catch a glimpse of Stephanie. No sign of her but there were footprints to follow. Only thing was, there were several sets of them, and they all started at the door, heading out. Which ones belonged to Stephanie?

  Sara studied the indentations—chevron patterns, ovals, circles, crisscross—ruling out the larger ones as belonging to men. This still left her with quite a few. Then she spotted ones that didn’t look like boots. There was a triangle imprint and about an inch behind that was a semicircle—high heels. Those were Stephanie’s. She remembered noticing how nice they were, but how odd it was that she chose heels over flats given her job. She was obviously one of those women for whom appearance trumped comfort. Sara turned back and saw that they also started at the door. At that point, the door opened and Sean stepped outside.

  “Where is she?” he asked.

  Sara pointed to the right and then down to the impressions in the snow. “Thes
e are our best bet.”

  Sara and Sean followed the prints through the streets until there were so many that Stephanie’s became hard to find. The snow had also picked up and was coming down in larger flakes now, filling in the shoeprints.

  Sara turned to Sean. “What now?”

  Couples walked past them, most of them arm in arm. Some passersby smiled and nodded their heads in greeting.

  When an older couple was out of hearing distance, Sean turned to Sara and placed his hands on her forearms. “She couldn’t have gone far.”

  She knew his assessment was being generous. They had lost a lot of time between him falling and her trying to identify Stephanie’s prints. She could be almost anywhere in the village by now.

  Sara looked past Sean, scanning the area, hoping to see her. There were many storefronts, bars, and restaurants. Stephanie could have gone into any one of them. “She wasn’t wearing a coat, so she had to slip inside somewhere.”

  “Good thinking, but where?” He released his hold on her and looked around. After a moment, he said, “We’ll wait her out.”

  “We just stand out here and—”

  He pulled her to him. “Do you have a problem with that?” He nuzzled his nose against hers.

  “Sean.” They were almost two years past their honeymoon, but they’d always be honeymooners.

  He kissed her on the lips. It had the same effect on her as it always did. Her heart bumped briefly off course.

  But she had to rein in her emotions, resume her focus. They had to find Stephanie, and she wasn’t going to come out with them standing in the middle of the square.

  Sara pulled back, smiling at her husband. “As much as I’d love to continue this, darling, we have to move.”

  He bobbed his head, either reading her mind or thinking the same thing.

  He lingered a bit longer, though, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “Who are you?” A woman’s voice asked.

  They parted to find Stephanie standing beside them.

  “You said Adrian’s dead?” She was shivering and rubbing her arms. She was only wearing a black uniform shirt, which wouldn’t do much to keep out the chill.

  “Let’s go inside somewhere and talk.” Sara touched her arm and Stephanie nodded.

  -

  Chapter 17

  CLEARING THE AIR

  THE THREE OF THEM ENTERED a coffeehouse, which was vacant in comparison to the booming bars and restaurants. Fortunately for Stephanie and her lack of outerwear, the café wasn’t far from where they met in the square.

  Sean had cleaned himself up in the bathroom using paper towels and the hand dryer, and was feeling more human again.

  Stephanie sat across from Sean and Sara, cradling a cup of hot chocolate. “They’re probably going to fire me.”

  “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Sean promised.

  Stephanie made eye contact with him, and he sensed she believed him. They had already told her who they were and that they were looking into Adrian’s death.

  “How did he die?” Stephanie asked and took a sip of her drink. She had finally stopped shivering.

  “He had an accident on the hill,” Sean began, “but we have reason to believe that it could have been prevented.”

  “You think he was murdered?”

  Sara put a hand on the girl’s wrist. “We believe that he was, yes.”

  Sean thought for a moment that Sara was going to reveal that he was given a dose of insulin, but he should have known better. Until they knew that Stephanie wasn’t behind his death, they had to hold some things back. They might have already said too much by telling her they were investigating Adrian’s death. But they had to get her to talk to them somehow.

  “Why did you run?” Sean asked pointedly.

  Stephanie looked at Sara. “Well I heard you say, ‘There’s no indication that she even knows Adrian’s dead.’ And I didn’t know that something had happened to him.”

  Sean found that hard to accept. She worked in the service industry—in a skiing village, no less—and hadn’t heard of Adrian Blackwell’s death?

  “You never heard any customers talk about it? Coworkers?” he asked.

  “No, I swear.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you ran,” Sean said.

  Stephanie glanced at Sara, who took her hand back.

  “I’ve had a black cloud hanging over me most of my life. The job at the Cabin is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She paused. “And that’s probably gone now, too.”

  He still had no answer to his question.

  “What do you mean a black cloud?” Sara asked.

  “Just with men mostly, I suppose. I have no problem getting ’em. It’s keeping them that’s the problem.”

  “Adrian was known to have many lady friends,” Sara said.

  Stephanie chuckled. “Lady friends? That’s a nice way of putting it.”

  Sara smiled briefly before going serious again. “Tell us about your relationship with him.”

  “He was thoughtful, kind. Handsome. He knew how to treat a woman. Probably because he’s had so much experience,” she added. “But with us, it was different.”

  Gina and Brent made it sound as if Stephanie was one of numerous women Adrian rendezvoused with recently, but Sean was starting to wonder. After all, they only provided one name besides confirming that Monique had been here.

  “How was it different with you two?” Sean asked.

  Stephanie traced the handle of her mug with her fingers. “We’ve been seeing each other for years now. Since before his first gold medal at the Olympics six years ago.”

  Sean glanced at Sara and then back to Stephanie. “Did his girlfriend from back home know about you two?”

  “I assume you’re referring to Monique? Yes, probably. I’m sure she did. Any woman with a brain knew what Adrian was like before getting involved with him.”

  “We heard that he spent time with other women on this trip,” Sean said.

  Stephanie didn’t so much as blink. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  “Did you see any of them or know who they were?” Sean was becoming optimistic and maybe a tad excited about the prospect of finding others to question. The more people, the more likely something useful would shake loose.

  Sean still wondered if Stephanie knew anything specific about the other women that Adrian had supposedly spent time with on this trip.

  “So you were all right with him seeing other women while he was here?” Sara asked, apparently reading Sean’s mind.

  “I accepted Adrian for who he was.” Stephanie’s eyes drifted to the table. Her face was flushed, and when she looked back up again, tears welled in her eyes. She wiped the ones that fell down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t say this…”

  “Whatever it is, it will be all right,” Sara assured her softly.

  Stephanie’s chin was quivering. “I wish I could be so certain. See, my brother…well, he didn’t much care for how Adrian treated me.”

  Now it made sense why she had been evasive when faced with the direct question of why she’d run. She had panicked, thinking her brother was behind Adrian’s murder.

  “Do you think that he might have killed Adrian?” Sean asked.

  “I hope not. I wouldn’t think so, but Drew’s always been real protective of me.”

  “We’re going to need to speak with Drew.”

  Stephanie peered into Sean’s eyes and eventually nodded. “I really don’t think he would have done this, though. We’ve talked many times about Adrian, including the last time he was staying in the area.”

  “When was that?” Sara asked.

  “Two months ago.”

  Sean tilted his head. “He came to see you often, then?”

  Stephanie’s lips barely formed a
smile. “I wish I could believe that. He loved the mountains here. I might have been a bonus.” She sniffled and dabbed her nose with a paper napkin.

  Sara frowned. “When was the last time you saw Adrian?”

  “Last Tuesday. We were supposed to meet up on Wednesday night, but he didn’t show.”

  “I sense that wasn’t unusual for him?” Sean inquired.

  “Not really. He had a short attention span, aside from skiing. He only focused on his sport. Anyway, getting back to Drew, I told him that my relationship with Adrian was none of his business. He promised me he wouldn’t get involved anymore.”

  Sean immediately picked up on her word choice. “Involved?”

  “There were times Drew would make it difficult for me and Adrian to spend time together. He’d show up at restaurants where we were eating. Sometimes even at Adrian’s room.”

  “And this visit?” Sara prodded.

  “He just made some snide comment about ‘lover boy’ being back in town.”

  Sean and Sara exchanged a glance before he looked back at Stephanie. “Where exactly can we find your brother?”

  -

  Chapter 18

  SIPPING ON SUSPICIONS

  STEPHANIE’S BROTHER, DREW, WORKED AS a sous chef at the Alpine restaurant where Adrian had his last meal. His shift ended at eleven, and based on his position, it would be next to impossible for Stephanie to reach him until then. But they couldn’t leave speaking with Drew until tomorrow. If Stephanie had a change of heart and warned her brother they’d be coming to talk with him, he could take off. And he was looking like a pretty good suspect.

  Sean and Sara had parted ways with Stephanie about twenty minutes ago and were almost back to the resort. It was just after eight.

  “Should we try getting dinner again?” Sean asked.

  “I’m not sure how hungry I’m feeling. That girl was genuinely upset by Adrian’s death, and I guess it’s getting to me more than usual.”