From Here to Paternity
( Jane Jeffry - 6 )
Jill Churchill
Jane Jeffry, suburban sleuth extraordinare, and her friend, Detective Mel VanDyne, have braved a blizzard to join her friend Shelley at a Colorado ski resort. In spite of having all their kids along, Jane and Shelley imagine a few mindless days of relaxation. But their hopes are dashed on their first attempt to ski when Jane careens into a snowman that hides a very real — and every dead — body. The slopes are littered with suspects — a convention of genealogists led by a political fruitcake who thinks she's going to put her hand-picked Tsar on the Russian throne, a mysterious crimson-clad skier who's always on the horizon, and ex-stockbroker who's hiding from his investors, and an irate tribe of Native Americans. Jane has to take a census of the suspects and make some grave assumptions about who was vacationing with malicious intent.
Jill Churchill
From Here to Paternity
Chapter 1
"All we need now is a roaring fire and a bottle of wine," Jane Jeffry said contentedly as she looked out the window at the snow.
"I've never found a rental car with a fireplace," Mel VanDyne said, hunching over the steering wheel and glaring into darkness.
"I didn't mean 'now' now. I mean when we get there."
"Which will probably be well into the next century at the rate we're going. Do you realize that we left Chicago at six o'clock and it's now almost eleven and we're still not there? We could have flown to London instead of Colorado in this time. And we probably wouldn't be stuck in a blinding blizzard, either."
"Now, Mel. It's not exactly blinding. You can see all sorts of— Oh, my God! What's that thing?"
Mel slowed the car to a crawl. "I think it's an elk."
A herd of extremely large, hoofed animals were near the side of the highway and one had wandered out into the slow lane, apparently to amuse and alarm tourists. Fortunately, there was practically no other traffic on the interstate and Mel could slow down without being rear-ended. The big animal shambled off before Mel had to come to a complete stop.
"Wow! What a great-looking animal!" Jane exclaimed. "It's a good thing we were going so slowly. Imagine if you hit something like that."
Mel nodded. "Yeah. It'd be like clipping the Sears Tower. Only bloodier."
"Look, Willard! Wild animals," Jane chirped over her shoulder.
There was a muffled dog groan from the backseat.
"Are you sure that dog's all right?" Mel said.
"It's just the tranquilizer the vet had me give him before we left. I knew he'd be scared by the plane ride, so I really doped him up."
"If he were any dopier, he'd have to be reclassified as a vegetable. Why did you have to bring him?"
"Well, it was that or put him in the kennel, and he's never been to a kennel. He'd think we'd abandoned him, poor old guy. Watch it or I'll give you one of his pills." She slipped into a bad Peter Lorre imitation: "I have drugs and I know how to use them."
"I've worked hard at nursing along this bad mood. Don't you dare try to take it away from me," Mel snarled.
Jane waved this warning off. "Until you've had a teenage daughter, you don't know what a bad mood really is. You haven't even got to the learner permit stage of tantrums. I think there's a town just ahead. There might be something open where you could get a cup of coffee," she added.
They took the off-ramp and found a single, glaringly lighted convenience store open. Mel went in to buy coffee while Jane studied the map of Colorado. Yes, another twenty miles, maybe thirty, she thought, then cringed as she looked up and saw Mel talking with the convenience-store clerk. Lots of pointing. Hmmm. He was asking directions. Not a good sign. Men never seemed to resort to asking for help except when really stressed. And then they didn't listen anyway.
This was a side of him she hadn't seen in the year and a half they'd been dating. Well, dating in a manner of speaking. They'd first met when Jane's next-door neighbor and best friend, Shelley, found a dead cleaning lady in her guest bedroom and Mel was the detective assigned to the case. More often than not during that first year, Jane and Mel had met as witness and police officer. Or police officer and neighborhood busybody, as Mel would probably interpret it. He was always the cool, calm bachelor and Jane was the frazzled, widowed mother of three, trying to keep her whole life from flying off in random bits of car pools, PTA business, teenage fits of angst, and algebra homework. Being the one not going to pieces was rather refreshing!
When he got back with a pair of steaming Styrofoam cups, he said, "I can't help but notice that you're taking this nightmare journey awfully well."
Jane smiled. "Well, I grew up a State Department brat. When you've lived practically everywhere in the world, you get used to travel catastrophes. And this one doesn't even qualify. Nothing's really even gone wrong. It's just taken a lot of time. That's nothing. I once had a camel eat my favorite doll. Even rental-car clerks seldom get that surly."
Mel took a sip of his overcooked convenience-store coffee and grimaced. "I keep forgetting that about you. Well, not forgetting, exactly—"
"You might want to explain that," Jane said. "I think you just wandered onto dangerous turf."
Mel grinned. "It's not an insult. At least I didn't mean it as one. I just meant that you're usually so — so domestic. So grounded in your family and house and pets and neighborhood. And then there's this other Jane — the one I've seen today — who can pack up an idiot dog, and a couple small suitcases and calmly take off. You didn't get rattled or nasty over the airplane seat mix-up, you just sorted it out. You seem to be able to read maps in the dark. You don't appear to be bothered by the fact that we're high in the mountains, in a blizzard, and likely to starve to death—"
Jane laughed. "Us and the Donner party. Mel, we're parked in front of a convenience store. And my map-reading skills, which you admire so much, tell me that we've got another half hour at least and had better get going."
"Tell me again why in hell we're doing this," Mel said as he backtracked to the highway ramp.
"Because of Shelley Nowack's husband, Paul. He invests in things. And some group wants him to put a bunch of money into investing in this resort. Somebody or other — I'm not clear on whether it was the other investors or the current owners of the place— wanted to knock his socks off with what a great place it is and offered him and eight of his nearest and dearest a free extended weekend. Including airfare, which was really generous. You and I qualify as two of Paul's nearest and dearest."
Mel grinned. "That would probably surprise Paul Nowack to learn, being as he doesn't even know me."
"But he knows of you. And for the sake of this trip, you count as part of my family."
"I'm just a humble cop—"
"Hardly humble," Jane muttered.
"— not a high-stakes real estate entrepreneur, but it seems to me that this place is likely to be a real hellhole if somebody's willing to go to all that trouble and expense to unload it."
"Oh, no. I saw the brochures. It's a fantastic place. But there is something—"
Mel's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh?"
"Well, it seems it's a ski resort without a mountain. That's what Shelley said."
"Without a mountain? Jane, even in the dark I can tell we're surrounded by mountains. They're great hulking things with pointy tops and thousands of tons of snow poised to avalanche down on us. You can hardly miss them."
"This resort's in the mountains, it just doesn't have one of its very own. But it has everything else you'd want for a vacation, they say. That was the point in inviting both our families. To show off all the fun stuff you can do at this resort."
"Except ski."
"R
ight. And you can ski, Shelley says. Just not right there. You take a shuttle bus that runs every fifteen minutes to a place just two miles down the road that's supposed to have terrific skiing."
Mel was unconvinced. "And we're not even staying together. You and I, I mean."
"I told you, Shelley has to entertain these investors in the condo she's been given and couldn't have all the kids underfoot. And there's no way either of us would trust the kids to stay alone."
Mel shook his head. "So let me see if I've got this straight. We're going to a ski resort without a mountain to have a romantic weekend — except that you're bunking with your daughter and Shelley's and I'm in with the male offspring of both families. And on top of all that, we're lost in the middle of the night in a blizzard with an unconscious dog in the backseat."
Jane considered, nodding pleasantly. "That's about it. Yes. I think you've hit the main points rather succinctly. Except that we're not really lost and you left out that it's free."
"Of course it's free! You don't think anybody'd pay money for this situation do you?"
Jane unlatched her seat belt, scooted across the seat, and kissed his cheek. "Mel, maybe you ought to switch to decaf."
Jane's next-door neighbor and best friend, Shelley, had arrived with her husband and all the children of both families earlier the same day. Shelley was waiting at the front desk when Jane and Mel finally arrived at a few minutes after midnight. "I was getting worried about you!"
"You were just worried that you'd get stuck with all the kids," Jane said.
"There was that," Shelley admitted. "Come on, I'll show you both where you're staying."
They drove from the main lodge up a narrow, winding road edged with pines that were bowed down with snow. At a wooden sign saying, "Eagle's Nest," which, due to fancy lettering, Jane took to be saying, "Bagle's Nest," Shelley told Mel to turn into a parking lot. Four luxurious homes surrounded the small lot. "Paul and I are in the first one, you and the girls are in the second one, Jane, and Mel and the boys are in the one at the far end."
"These are the cabins?" Jane exclaimed. "They're nicer than my house!"
"Each one is a duplex, though you wouldn't guess it to look. Your entrance is on this side," Shelley said, pointing.
"Help me with Willard, and then you'll be finished with me for the day," Jane told Mel.
"Finished with you and starting with the boys," he groused.
"Don't worry about them," Shelley said. "They skied all afternoon and are probably sound asleep. Jane's got the tough lot. Girls can go for phenomenal lengths of time without sleeping."
It took all three of them to unload Willard and wake him up enough that he wobbled over to a tree to lift his leg. Jane had to lean against the big shambling yellow dog to keep him from falling right over while he teetered on three legs. As soon as they had him headed toward the right door, Shelley gave Mel his key. He gave Jane a perfunctory kiss and started unloading his own luggage.
"Mr. Conviviality," Shelley muttered, unlocking Jane's door while Jane fought to get Willard back on his feet. He'd decided to sleep on the step.
"He's a tad cranky from the drive. It is a terribly long way from the Denver airport, and the drive up into the mountains is horrifying at night in the snow. Besides, I think he's afraid of flying and much too macho to admit it. I thought there was something wrong with the engines until I realized it was just Mel grinding his teeth."
"Voilà!" Shelley said, flinging the door open.
Jane dragged Willard inside and let him collapse in the front hall before she took a look around.
"My God! What a place!" she exclaimed.
There was a large living room with a sunken seating area in front of a fireplace that would have been at home in a largish castle. A pile of logs glowed red and filled the room with the delicious scent of wood-smoke. The fireplace wall was of slabs of fieldstone. The far end of the room was entirely glass, with doors that opened onto a deck that wrapped around the back of the structure. The wall between was entirely shelves, with books, handsome knickknacks, and an entertainment center that included a huge television, VCR, and tape deck. The rich forest-green carpeting, dark wood, and deeply upholstered leather furniture combined to be both sumptuous and rustic. Jane was grinning until she turned around to look at Shelley and spotted what was behind them.
"Oh, no! What's that!"
"You know what it is."
"I hope I'm wrong, but it looks suspiciously like a kitchen! Curses!"
"Now, Jane. You don't ever have to go in it if you don't want to."
"Shelley, don't be an idiot. Where there's a kitchen and a mother, people will expect cooking to be done."
"Then those unnamed people will just have to live with disappointment for a few days," Shelley said.
"I know. That firewood on the deck. Maybe we could use that to board it up and nobody will ever know it's there."
"Too late. I already took the girls to the grocery store and they've filled it with soft drinks and junk food. And I've stashed a lovely bottle of white wine and some of your favorite cheese in the fridge. Want a glass?"
"If you'll fix it," Jane said. "I want to leave here without ever having set foot in that room."
She hauled her bag and Willard down the hall, observing with approval that her daughter, Katie, and Shelley's daughter, Denise, shared a big bedroom, while she had a smaller but more attractive one with its own bath all to herself. Her bedroom had two queen-sized beds with room left over. It also had a glass wall overlooking the deck. She greeted the girls, who were shrieking with laughter and trying out a dreadful mauve shade of nail polish, before taking off her travel clothes and donning a comfortable flannel granny gown and fuzzy slippers. As a child, she'd always been "representing her country" when she traveled and couldn't break the habit of dressing up to get on a plane. Someday she might be able to throw on a pair of jeans and head for the airport, but for now, she was stuck with dresses and hose. She hung up her dress and a few other items that were in her suitcase, then found an extra blanket in the closet and made a nest at the foot of the bed for Willard. By the time she returned to the living room, Shelley was stirring up the embers of the fire and had set out two glasses of wine and a little plate of Wheat Thins and a section of Brie. "You sure know the way to a girl's heart," Jane said, collapsing into the big, deep armchair closest to the fire-Shelley looked at her. "You can disintegrate faster than anyone I've ever known."
"I know," Jane said smugly. "It's a gift. So how's it going? Is Paul going to buy this place?"
"I have no idea. He and the other investors spent the day just looking around. Tomorrow they're going over all the paperwork and financial statements. The owner's niece, a really nice woman around our age named Tenny Garner, has put herself in charge of us. If there's anything you need, just call the front desk and ask for her."
"Shelley, the place looked deserted as we drove in."
"No, it's really not. For one thing, it's awfully late, and for another, the whole place is arranged in such a way that everything seems very isolated and private and disguises the fact that you're surrounded by mobs of people. That's one of the advantages."
"But, Shelley, who comes to a ski resort without ski facilities — besides you and me and other people dedicated to the sedentary life?"
"Conventions. Right now there's a gang of accountants just getting ready to leave, the regional representatives of an agricultural co-op arriving in a couple days, and some kind of historical society meeting now. They're a tad bizarre. If you run into a woman who looks like Abe Lincoln in drag, you might want to veer off before she can bend your ear."
"I think if I spotted such a person I'd hide on general principles without the warning. But thanks anyway," Jane said, yawning. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"
Shelley got up and started hunting for her gloves, boots, and hat. "Jane, you have to readjust your thinking. There are no plans! You can do whatever you want. That's what vacations are for."
Shelley shuddered dramatically. "If it's not too crass, may I remind you that Steve is dead and it's a mercy for a lot of reasons, and besides, this is not that kind of vacation. Get up whenever you feel like it. You can have breakfast brought to you, or come down to the lodge. I suggest the lodge. It's beautiful. Give me a call when you're stirring. I put my number on the notepad on the kitchen counter."
"Shelley! You said that word again! Kitchen!"
"Sorry. See you tomorrow."
Jane sat for a while, staring at the dying embers of the fire. The wine, the cheese, the warmth of the fire, the comfort of the deep chair — it was all too good to be true. She finally forced herself to get up and stagger to the bedroom. The girls, to her surprise, had actually turned out their lights and seemed to be asleep, although she wondered, from the smell as she looked in on them, if maybe they'd just succumbed to nail polish fumes.
She had dumped her belongings on the bed nearest the door, so she tumbled into the one closest to the glass doors — which she decided was probably the most comfortable bed in the Western Hemisphere. She dreamed briefly about Abe Lincoln riding a moose before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 2
When Jane finally awoke, she was on her side, facing the glass doors, and for a moment she thought she was dreaming herself into a calendar picture. Blinking, she sat up and gazed in awe. Through the glass doors, beyond the deck, there was a cloudless sky of a pure, clear azure no artist could get away with, and a spectacular rugged, white-crowned mountain peak framed by nearby snow-laden pines. A fat squirrel with tufts on its ears that made it look like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit sat on the rail of the deck, unabashedly posing. Jane went to the doors and stood mesmerized for long moments. Willard woofed halfheartedly at the squirrel before laying his big head down and going back to sleep.
From Here to Paternity jj-6 Page 1