Nailed

by Avery Daniels

  “What about that self-righteous newspaper guy? After a few drinks, he had some choice words about how evil that woman was and some vendetta he swears she had against him. Him being so morally upstanding, I was surprised at his language.”

  “Oh, his wife’ll be his alibi, you can count on that.”

  “Sure, but where was he? He left the bar about midnight.”

  “I heard both he and his wife were at the Jacuzzi for a little while, but that doesn’t count for the critical two through four a.m. time period.”

  “You heard about that other realtor arguing with her, didn’t you? Wonder where he was?”

  “Oh, I hear somebody saw him in the exercise room jogging on the treadmill around ten-thirty last night.”

  “His wife’ll probably be his alibi too, no matter what.”

  Tammy leaned toward me and whispered, “You seem particularly interested in the murder.”

  My mouth went dry and I choked. This time I didn’t have to work for the deer-in-headlights-look, I could feel my eyes were big against my will. Was I that obvious?

  “Oh, I assisted in a murder investigation that took place last fall at my home resort.” I didn’t feel it necessary to share that I had been the main suspect and the police hadn’t blessed my poking around.

  “Really? You assisted the police?” Surprise was evident from her raised eyebrows to her cocked head.

  “Who knows, somebody may know an important tidbit and they don’t realize it. I like to help the police whenever I can.” Hey, I am helpful. I held my breath to see if she accepted my explanation.

  Tammy’s mouth gave way to the slightest smile, just a fraction more than Mona Lisa succumbed to, but not by much.

  “I’ll keep my ears tuned to the chatter, then. What should I pay attention to?” Her eyes had a spark of...mischief. This was a surprise development.

  I shared the persons of interest. “Nothing more than listen and report.” I felt duty-bound to clarify. She winked, actually winked at me.

  “This gives me a purpose that is a bit more active. I love to help as well.” That shadow of a smile again accompanied by a definite twinkle in her eyes. Tammy was a gal after my own heart.

  I looked around again and saw Zack at the buffet table trying to catch my eye.

  “I’m getting some dessert. Can I get you any?” Tammy declined and I headed for the Zack.

  “I’m on board,” he said once I was close. “I want to help get this nightmare over. Kylie gave me the names.”

  I looked over the dessert as if there was a question in my mind what I would get. “I appreciate the extra ears, just keep this a secret or it won’t work.”

  He glanced around again and cleared his throat as somebody headed our direction.

  I grabbed a Crème Brûlée and took it back to the table to devour. My coffee cup was full and the bold rich aroma mingled with the vanilla and caramelized sugar crust of the Crème Brûlée making my mouth water. I was going to need that coffee. I would be fighting to stay awake in the afternoon workshops.

  I was the last person at my table, finishing up my dessert. I tossed my napkin on the table and headed to the workshop covering multiple-day events and Tammy had already gone to her own session.

  I was weary by the time the first day of the conference finally finished. I had absorbed so much information and taken copious notes to share with Chad. I was looking forward to a swim and Jacuzzi time to relax a bit before eating if Porsche could wait that long for dinner.

  I was walking with the crowd of fellow conference attendees to the elevators and staircase, moving like cattle coming out of a holding pen, jostling each other, moving around bottlenecks in the flow, and ready to trample anything blocking our path.

  My mind was scattered and wandering to the thought of a cocktail when I caught sight of Detective Larson observing the crowd. Our eyes met and he slightly nodded in the general direction of the spa and walked in that direction. I struggled like a salmon going upstream to leave the rushing river of attendees.

  I didn’t see Larson anywhere until I ventured into the spa, now busy with people getting seaweed wraps or deep tissue massage. The room used for the interrogations, oh sorry – interviews, was open and Larson waved me in, I shut the door for privacy. He was wearing sky blue ski pants and a heavy sweater; the matching ski jacket was draped over the back of his metal chair. A bolt of apprehension shot through me, could he know about my merry band of helpers?

  “I...ahhh...you wanted to talk to me?” I began.

  “The storm has pulled my attention so I hope you’ve made some progress today. I already got your news of last night’s cooking class from Porsche.” I studied his face and he looked the same as yesterday, except around the eyes where fatigue was making his crows feet more pronounced and dark circles had begun.

  The thought flit through my mind that he wasn’t a pretty boy like Porsche typically dated. He was more the self-assured, mature, and responsible man that she had never shown an interest in before. Oh, sure he was good looking, but in a more rugged woodsman way. I took it as a good sign she was gravitating towards Detective Larson.

  “Well, the most fruitful conversations were during lunch.” I opened my notebook to my section for the investigation.

  “Folks are noticing Debra Graham has a lot of pent-up anger toward Ms. Caine and she closed the bar that night around two a.m. and left alone. The editor guy, Wade I think, he was ranting about Ms. Caine having a vendetta against him and left the bar that night around midnight with his wife and was then seen at the Jacuzzi but nobody saw anything during the two-to-four time frame.” I took a breath.

  “Realtor guy Preston was seen in the exercise room after the argument in the lobby with Kara. But nothing mentioned today on Bryce or Chris Burns.” I closed my notes and looked up.

  “Interesting how so far nobody has an alibi except that provided by a significant other. So, nobody is really off my list. I do need to know more about Bryce and Chris though.”

  “Well, I have tonight still. I plan on dinner and some time at the pool.” I gave a tight smile.

  “They have opened a cash bar at the pool in the interest of keeping guests happy. Maybe that will loosen some tongues to chat with you.”

  “Well, I should get going then.” I stood to do just that. I had to keep moving before I ran out of steam.

  “I was hoping to ask you about your friend, Ms. Abrams.” He stared at his hands sitting folded on the card table. He finally looked up. “She, ummm, seems interested in me. I just wondered....” He seemed to struggle with finding his words, or maybe the right words. “If she could actually be interested in, you know, a cop?”

  Oh crap. I didn’t want to be in the middle of this. “She knows her own mind, and I think she considers a man on more than just their job or career choices.” I wasn’t going to tell him she tends to have short-lived relationships, so if he just wanted to have some fun, she was his girl. Nope, not my place. But I didn’t want him to approach her without understanding her.

  “I, ahhhh, well, I should mention....you know she’s leaving when this weekend is over and the roads open again. I just mean to say, enjoy her company while she’s here.”

  His face was serious as he nodded, “Right, of course.” Okay then. He never showed the slightest joy over spending time with Porsche, most guys were wondering how they got so lucky. Let’s face it, Porsche was a feminine storm that left men with silly grins on their faces even after she was long gone.

  “I’m having dinner with her tonight, then I’ll be doing another few hours of a shift. You’re welcome to join us.” Now his eyes seemed to plead with me. Was he afraid of my best friend?

  “Johan, I wouldn’t dream of being a third wheel and interfering in the two of you having time to get to know each other.” I wasn’t about to coddle the strong homicide detective due to meet a velvet tigress. What doesn’t kill you...

  Chapter Nine

  I was tired but wanted to get more done
on the murder since my day had been consumed with the conference. As informative and sometimes overwhelming as the conference was, I had to take advantage of every hour outside the workshops and lectures if I was to be any help.

  I waded through the flurry of bustle in the lobby to study the ever-changing event board. It was chock-full of activities for every age. There were children racing around, people seated chatting with old or new friends, others checking the board, many in line for one of the restaurants, and still others rushing to the next thing to do. It was like an island of activity and noise adrift in the midst of a blizzard.

  There was a listing on the board for Monday night, the day after the conference was finished, for something labeled “Fasching” with the explanation below of “A German Carnival celebration.” It also noted children would create decorative masks for the party. A little quiver of excitement shot through me to see my suggestion implemented with the resort’s own Bavarian theme. I still held out hope that by that time the snow and investigation might be resolved and the Fasching wouldn’t be necessary.

  I entered the peace and comparative tranquility of my room to find Porsche getting ready for her dinner date with the detective. The scent of Mason’s flowers permeated every corner now and promised to be an emotional reminder of him rather than allowing me some time to process.

  “Okay, I didn’t pack enough dresses. Which do you like? This or this?” She held up a cobalt blue knit sheath dress that would turn Larson into a nervous bunny and a burgundy red colored off the shoulder sweater dress that was pure seduction.

  “Depends on the effect you’re going for.” I hated giving wardrobe advice. I was no good with such emotionally charged decisions. Cousin Felicia tended to dress me for important occasions, claiming I was too stuffy.

  “I want him to like me, you know, enough for another date. I like him, Julie.” There was something in her voice that made me study her closer. She had less makeup on than usual, her hair was down and flowing. “So I’m going for...I don’t know. Dressy for our first date but not vamp on the make.”

  She wants a second or third date in the few days we have here? “Well, the red is out, that is femme fatale all the way.” I casually glanced her way. “You do remember we are only here for a short few days, right?”

  “Uh huh.” She held up one earring after another from her stash and evaluated the effect in the mirror. “None of my earrings will work. Can I borrow your button pearl studs?”

  Wow, she never ever borrowed anything of mine. Nobody did, actually. “I guess, sure.” I dug them out of my suitcase. They were the only jewelry I consistently took on any trip.

  She finally settled on my simple pearl choker necklace with matching earrings and my matching pearl strap watch. I don’t think I had ever seen her so nervous.

  “I’m glad you’re having dinner with Detective Larson, he seems like a good guy.” And he was a nice guy as far as I could tell. I was getting uncomfortable with her fussing.

  She turned from the mirror and faced me. “Julie, please tell me what’s going on with you and Mason. I’m on your side, if I need to kick his butt for you, I will. Just talk to me.” She sat down on her bed and I sat on mine facing her.

  I couldn’t avoid this any longer. “I’ll try to find the words. I know what it’s not. It’s not about any abandonment issues resulting from my mother’s death. I’ve been working on that.” I shrugged.

  “Are you feeling neglected with how busy he’s been?”

  “That’s only part of it. Yes, he hasn’t been around much for us to really spend time together, but...well. It’s as if he went from pursuing me to cold feet in an instant...and then there’s the bodyguard jobs he’s still taking. That really...gets under my skin.” I avoided her eyes. This was difficult to talk about even with her. Maybe the emotions were still too raw. I began to fidget.

  “That’s what he’s doing in California, a bodyguard job? What bothers you about that? It’s a job, right?” And there was the rub, I was upset over one of his jobs. How could I be upset over that?

  “He’s with that actress from the new blockbuster hit. She has a stalker apparently. It’s not her, it’s not that he is working. It’s... it’s just...” I sputtered to a stop. It seemed petty, which made me feel guilty for feeling upset in the first place. I was twisting a strand of hair around my index finger.

  “Do you think he’s being unfaithful?”

  “No, but how would I know? Everybody thinks they’re a couple and not a bodyguard accompanying her around. The papers have them as the hot new couple, the celebrity photographer with the starlet. Aren’t they the hottest couple around?” My voice had a hardened edge now.

  “I think we have what’s upset you. Does everyone think they’re a couple, really?” Her voice had a touch of surprise.

  I took my phone and opened a celebrity news website and brought up the news from earlier today. The headlines proclaimed the hot new romance was progressing with pictures of the happy couple attending an awards show. Mason looked like Bond Jr. all over again in my mind.

  “Wow, I had no idea. Clearly, you’ve been following the gossip.” She handed my phone back. “Put into words what angers you the most about this.”

  “He hasn’t changed his bachelor ways... his gallivanting playboy image...even though....he....he said he was looking for long-term and to settle down. But this! This is the playboy he said he wasn’t.” I took a breath and let out the last words with a tear sliding down my cheek, “Am I just that gullible and stupid?”

  PORSCHE WAS A FEW MINUTES late for her dinner because she made sure I was feeling better and not blaming myself. She got me laughing with outrageous punishments for Mason she would exact on him. My favorite was how she would tie him to a chair and force him to watch a marathon of chick flicks for his sensitivity training. I am blessed to have her as a friend.

  I phoned and made a dinner reservation at the Ranchhand again so Porsche could enjoy her dinner without needing to invite me to join them in the elegant restaurant and I wasn’t in the mood for the Mountain Chalet. The hostess gave me a time of twenty-five minutes ater. Just enough time to quickly talk to Aunt Regina before going down for dinner. I had texted her I was fine at the resort when I learned the roads were closed. I knew she would pass the information along to everyone else. But it would sound good to hear her voice.

  “Oh Julie, thanks for calling. I was hoping to talk to you.” Aunt Regina always made me feel good.

  “I have a few minutes before dinner reservation so I wanted to chat with you.”

  I told her about the blowing snow and bad accidents on the treacherous roads, shared highlights of my first day in the conference, then covered the efforts to keep everyone busy. I finished with the pièce de résistance – making the Bavarian Crème Torte last night. She was dutifully impressed. We hung up and I changed into more comfortable jeans and sweater.

  I received a text from Mason that included a photo of the awards show he attended showing him in front of the red carpet. He said, “Wish you were here.” How could a girl compete with that? He got to live a life that most people only dream about and it was his job. I didn’t reply.

  The winds were still treacherous and thus the wind chill was deadly cold outside in spite of the snow having stopped. I checked on the huddled raccoons on the balcony. I think they had shifted around a little bit, but they didn’t seem very active. A pair of eyes opened in the mass of fur and peeked at me, glowing in the reflected light from the room.

  I couldn’t stand not helping them any longer. I grabbed an extra blanket and ice cube tongs then opened the sliding door. Gusts blew swirling snow inside, but this balcony was somehow sheltered from the brunt of the wind. I opened up the blanket and crouched down, with the tongs I reached one corner over and then tossed the rest. It landed on the pair, and I saw a little movement underneath, but they stayed put. I closed the door and danced around to warm up. At worst I would owe the resort for a blanket. With my conscience sa
tisfied, I left for dinner.

  I was ushered into the Ranchhand without any delay and congratulated myself for getting into the habit of getting a reservation ahead of time. Even though I had just eaten there last night, I saw several items on the menu I wanted to try. The wood plank floors and walls seemed to reverberate with the conversations of a packed to capacity space and the myriad of foods smells mixed.

  I choose the Chicken Pot Pie this time with a side salad and a hot buttered rum drink. I needed to relax before my next investigation idea.

  I scanned the crowd, craning my neck occasionally, even stood at one point. The only one of my suspects present was Bryce. He was warming a seat at the western style bar and nursing a mixed drink. No sign of his girlfriend. It appeared that the gossip was correct, and she had left. I guess that cleared her.

  I hadn’t thought of it before, but her leaving could have made Bryce mad enough to snap and get even. I know it seemed he was too beaten down, but that could have been part of what made him break. She sabotaged a new relationship and wouldn’t let him move on...in front of a restaurant full of people. Of the things that people snapped over, I figured that was up there in the top ten.

  I got my drink and salad plopped on my table, the waiter too busy to chat. I watched Bryce as I forked the salad into my mouth. He was lethargic, almost like he was in shock...or maybe he’d had too much to drink. He finally raised the glass to his lips and took a swig, then returned to his original slumped over position.

  It was clear he wasn’t going to offer me much more than a depressed or sullen routine. Which could be guilt or something over killing somebody. I couldn’t imagine, but I would think the guilt would kick in and some might turn to booze. I glanced at him occasionally just to check if he had moved or was showing signs of life. He had a fresh drink delivered and that was about it. My chicken pot pie was plopped down and the salad dish vanished as my hit-and-run waiter ran past.

  Dinner was great even if the wait staff was run ragged. I ate the last morsels and raised my credit card in one hand. My waiter sped past, snatching it out of my hand and in five minutes the slip for me to sign was at my elbow with a pen. I squeezed past people on my way out, my plan was to check out the game room for any gossip among that crowd, then relax a little in the Jacuzzi before the expected the visit from Kylie or Zack.