by Patti Larsen
“That,” I said with a quiver in my stomach and the refusal to believe a ghost had tried to kill me, “is Elizabeth Adler.” I paused. “I think.”
Crew flipped through again while Mom shook her head with a sorrowful expression. But I didn’t get to tell them where my head was, because a soft voice interrupted and turned me around.
“Miss Fleming? Fee?” Ava stood there, looking anxious and raising both hands to Crew who instantly scowled in her direction. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m going back to my room. But Simone wanted to see Fee. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.” I linked arms with her, Petunia following at my heels, and left with the young ski instructor, leaving my suppositions about the ghost of Elizabeth Adler for now, still not convinced I had things right away. And I’d been wanting to talk to Ava alone anyway and this was the perfect opportunity to escape any chance Crew or Dad or even Mom might change their minds about locking me up for my own safety. I could tell, when I glanced back, all three of the people I’d just left weren’t happy with me just wandering off like this, and I actually felt touched. But I was pretty positive it wasn’t Ava who tried to kill me and I really did need to get her alone.
Turned out the feeling was mutual. Instead of leading me to the staff quarters as I’d expected, Ava tugged me into the women’s washroom and leaned against the door, Petunia’s claws clicking on the tile while she sat to watch us talk.
“I’m sorry,” Ava said, a bit breathless. “I didn’t mean to lie just now but I really wanted to talk to you.”
“Simone’s not looking for me,” I said.
“Well, she kind of is, but not really.” Ava bit her lower lip and tugged at the hem of her white staff golf shirt. She’d changed as I had, now the alluring ski instructor with the big eyes and bouncing pony of thick hair, all innocence and youthful sunshine. Except it was clear she was deeply troubled. “I just, I had to tell you and I didn’t want to betray him to them, not unless you thought I was right.” She tossed her hands, clearly flustered. “I feel horrible doing this, but Fee, I think Noah was right and Ethan killed Mason.”
“Why?” And why now this confession?
“Because,” she whispered, “I wasn’t going to Colorado or New Zealand and Ethan knew it before we even came here.”
***
Chapter Twenty Three
That was a guilty verdict if ever I heard one. “You told him you weren’t going?”
She swallowed hard. “Well, no,” she said. “I told Mason I wasn’t. He said he was going to tell Ethan. That was a week ago so I assume he did.”
Smoking gun not so smoking. “Ava, were you in love with Mason?”
She shook her head with enough violence her hair shivered around her, pieces coming loose from the ponytail to cling to her neck in static charged strands. The look of horror on her face told me the thought never crossed her mind before she could gasp her audible denial. “No! No.” Ava hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms with both hands, looking down at her feet a moment before meeting my gaze with hers. She was barely five feet, tiny but muscular from the way her forearms corded when she squared her shoulders and jutted her chin like she expected to be judged. “I’m asexual,” she said with the kind of firmness that told me she was still learning how to express it to people without feeling awkward. “I don’t even feel that way about Ethan.” Now she blushed for real, but didn’t avert her eyes. “He knows,” she said. “I told him. He doesn’t care. But that’s the thing, I do.” She dropped her hands, stuffed them in her back pockets, distress clear. “He deserves someone who can love him and give him what he wants. I can’t. And I don’t want to, either. I don’t want to be someone I’m not.”
Five years in New York had introduced me to the fact there were many kinds of people in many kinds of situations who lived happy and interesting lives nothing at all like mine. And though maybe I didn’t understand completely those lives, I fully accepted them because mine wasn’t all that hot, was it? Who was I to judge? So Ava’s sexual identity wasn’t my business, unless it added to Ethan’s motive. I nodded encouragement while she drew a breath and when she went on it was in a much calmer and less defensive state.
“Most people ask me if I’m sure,” she said softly. “Tell me I’m too pretty to be deviant like that.”
“Most people are assholes,” I said, and she giggled, the last of her tension about her admission gone, if returned as she sighed out her amusement.
“When it came to Mason and the lodge, I was staying for the money, plain and simple.” She wrinkled her turned up nose and laughed then, a barking sound of practicality and joylessness. “Ethan’s really a great skier and an amazing teacher. But I’ve been told I could be on the national snowboarding team. And I really, really want the chance to try out.”
Ah. “And Ethan doesn’t want you to?”
“He doesn’t think it’s practical,” she said like she was repeating him word for word and tone for tone, looking away at last, voice dropping like she believed him once and still fought her demons over her own talent. “The chance to try, though.” When she looked up once more joy and excitement blazed in her gaze. “I was going to spend the winter here and work on my skills, then meet Ethan in New Zealand—or go alone, if I could connect with someone on the team who was going and tag along with them. Mason said he could hook me up if that was what I wanted when the season ended.” Her face crumpled briefly. “Now I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s so selfish of me, but I can’t help feeling like I’ve lost so much in this.”
Honestly, I didn’t blame her that feeling of loss. Not for Mason but her future. I’d been there and not so long ago, thanks to Ryan and his cheating. If it hadn’t been for Grandmother Iris’s death and my inheritance of Petunia’s, would I still be in New York trying to find my way and losing myself all over again? But this wasn’t about me.
“Bill Saunders seems to think Mason had some good in him,” I said.
She shrugged, laughed. “I don’t know, Fee. Maybe. There were moments I got to see him, the real him, you know? Deep down, that hurt boy who just wanted people to like him. Who just wanted to trust. And then bam, he’d be this total and utter asshole who did everything he could to hurt you and laughed when he did it. Thought crushing your soul was funny.”
“But he was helping you?”
“Only because of that night,” she said. “When I saved his life. Things changed between us. I wasn’t just Ethan’s girlfriend anymore, another cute blonde who could snowboard. I was Ava to him all of a sudden and he took the people he noticed very seriously.”
“Including Simone?” I needed to know she really was in the clear and Ava would know. Bad friend.
Ava’s face fell and she hesitated before sighing. “No offense to Simone,” she said. “I really like her and she’s a great person. But Mason was just using her like he did every other girl.”
“Every other girl but you.” I waited for Ava to answer but she didn’t get the chance.
Not when a stall door slammed open and a statuesque black girl dove for Ava, plowing into her and carrying her to the ground with a shriek like a battle cry. Petunia burst into aggressive barking, something she never did, backing away with her black ears back and the line of fur along her spine standing up
I leaped into the fight before it could really get started, jerking Simone free of Ava who sobbed as she crouched on the tile, her arms covering her face. Simone, on the other hand, shook and snarled, her hands curving into claws with those very sharp nails likely able to leave serious injury if she was allowed to get a good slap in.
“Let me go!” She jerked against me but I held on tight, had enough experience with self-defense and her sister’s occasional drunken rampages I knew what I was capable of, and what she could do, too. Simone sagged against me while Ava slowly climbed to her feet and, misery written all over her, met the other girl’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathed while Simone snapped at her.
“You heard our whole conversation,” I said, knowing reasonable likely wouldn’t reach Simone at the moment but trying anyway. “You know that’s not true.”
“I just wanted to help.” Ava was back to hugging herself, ignoring her own tears. I eased up on Simone who showed no further sign of physically assaulting the smaller girl so I left them both long enough to duck into one of the pink painted stalls and retrieve a hand full of toilet paper, pausing to soothe Petunia with a pat. The wad split between them, I heaved myself up on the counter and leaned against the mirror behind me, my pug clicking forward to sit between my feet, while I hoped the girls didn’t see just how weak I was even as spots danced in my vision.
Simone sat on the floor, long legs curling beneath her, sparkling gown puddled around her. Ava joined her and tentatively took her hand. The taller girl hugged her suddenly and the pair broke down into sobbing apologies for each other while I sighed and closed my eyes in relief.
When I opened them again, the two were still holding hands and talking and had Petunia between them, the pug curled up and enjoying their absent pats as they chatted. Had I passed out for a second? Possibly. But I woke up again at the good part, apparently.
“I just want to go home,” Simone said. “This is a disaster. I knew better, A. You told me this was a terrible idea.”
“The heart wants what it wants,” Ava said with a sad smile. “And for all I knew you were the one for him. You had to try.”
“You’re just being kind now and I don’t deserve that.” Simone heaved a big sigh, smiled up at me through some fresh but cleansing tears. “I threw myself at him like all the other idiot girls at school and he only noticed me because he needed a new conquest. And I gave him that for my moment in the sun.” She turned back to Ava and kissed her cheek ever so gently. “He was a dick and a racist and I let him be cruel to people around me because I just needed him to validate me. Imagine that. My sister will kick my ass for being such a jerk.”
“Your sister,” I said, “doesn’t have a leg to stand on in that department, so if she tries you call me and I’ll share some stories that will shut her up.”
Simone smiled at me before turning back to Ava. “You’re the only one who he chased and who turned him down. That’s why I was jealous.”
“And now you know why.” Ava winced. “Will you keep my secret?”
Simone patted her hand. “Girl, you are who you are and there’s no shame in it. But I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
“You two,” I said, “promise me you’ll stop fighting and I’ll let you go unsupervised.”
They helped each other to their feet, Petunia protesting her loss of devoted slaves with a grunt and a soft whine. Ava hesitated, looking down at her, then shrugged as she met my eyes with her own resigned.
“You’ll tell the sheriff about me?” A question she assumed she knew the answer to.
“Is your sexual orientation relevant to Mason’s murder?” Not to be blunt, but she had to stop fearing who she was.
“No,” she said instantly. “At least, I don’t think so.”
I wasn’t sure, especially if Ethan was the murderer. But I’d hold off for the time being until I had to make that choice. “If it’s necessary,” I said. “Only then.”
Ava smiled at me and nodded. “Thank you, Fee,” she said.
I thought about hopping down but as they prepared to leave the idea of just sitting here and letting sleep take me became more and more appealing. But Simone was frowning suddenly and came to me and squinted, worry on her face. Ava too as they finally noticed something wasn’t right.
“Fee, are you okay?” Simone’s hand brushed my cheek, nails scratching gently over the surface. “You look pale.”
“Did something happen?” Ava grasped my hand, looked down at it. “Your skin looks like you’ve been in the cold too long.”
Of course she’d recognize that. I pulled away and gave in to moving again, slipped slowly down, smiling at both of them to hide my groan as Petunia came to sit on my feet. “I’m fine,” I said. “Thanks for asking.” I paused a moment, something niggling. “You said all the girls chased him. Including Elizabeth?”
They groaned together, but in sorrow not judgment.
“Especially Elizabeth,” Simone said. “Poor dear.”
“Why poor?” I already knew the answer, or guessed it. I’d been to college. Ava’s sadness and Simone’s sympathy told me I was right.
“I honestly believe he invited her up that mountain to teach her a lesson,” Ava said. “He wasn’t someone any girl should be chasing.”
“Do you think he hurt her?” I wouldn’t put it past him. And yet, Bill. Did Mason have murder in him?
Simone hesitated but Ava didn’t.
“I think whatever happened to Elizabeth Adler,” she said, “Mason wasn’t broken up about it.”
***
Chapter Twenty Four
I sent the girls on their way back to Ava’s quarters, not wanting Simone to be alone in her room upstairs. At least they left as friends and I hoped this brought them closer together. From the way they exited the bathroom with their arms around each other’s waists they’d been good buddies all along. Letting a guy come between them? Tragedy.
I stood in the hallway for a moment, thinking, Petunia panting and waiting for me to figure out what I was going to do next. I considered bending to pet her but reconsidered. Wouldn’t do to pass out at the moment. Instead, I reached for my phone in my back pocket and swore softly to myself. The odds of finding it before spring were pretty slim and even then it would be dead to the world. But I didn’t really care about that part. I’d only had it a short time and just backed up my photos. And my old phone was home with all my contacts intact. No, it was the ease of information access I missed.
Wait, Paisley. She’d told me the Wi-Fi was back up. I headed her way, Petunia chuffing at me as if to say she was a bit tired of all the walking around and couldn’t we just stop and lie down already? I ignored her, promising myself I’d take her upstairs shortly and let her sleep. Just as soon as I had another look at Mason’s social media.
The front desk stood empty when I strode across the foyer. Maybe Paisley had finally taken a break, poor thing. It had to be close to dawn by now and everyone not involved hopefully tucked in for the night. I know I nearly cracked my jaw with a yawn as I reached the counter, but I had an almost died not so long ago excuse under my belt.
“Hello?” I peeked over the counter. And gasped at the sight of Paisley on the floor. I was already running around the corner and into the office, Petunia huffing after me, when I realized the girl wasn’t hurt. My heart tried to leap from my chest regardless, more adrenaline the last thing I needed. She looked up as Petunia licked her face, squinting with one eye, the other watering.
“Lost my contact,” she said, stopping to pat my dog with the softest, kindest expression ever. Petunia had that effect on a lot of people, I noticed. I wasn’t the only sucker.
“Ah!” I dove for the floor to help, forgetting my weakness and fighting the black spots that appeared until I slowed down. “Fear not. I’ve retrieved enough for friends at bars I’ve become a bit of a contact lens whisperer.” She snorted while I slowed my breathing to settle my dizzy spell and skimmed my gaze over the carpet while she struggled to see with one eye. “There!” The little disk of plastic appeared, stuck to the metal side of the filing cabinet by the door. I quickly seized her bottle of solution and squirted some in my palm before gently depositing the drying len
s into the puddle to soak. The center was the prettiest shade of brown with little flecks of amber in it. Funny how people liked to augment their eyes—Vivian French’s fake piercing blues case in point. I guess I was lucky to have the kind of clear green most of my friends needed contacts to achieve. Instead of commenting, I handed it triumphantly back and grinned.
“One lens rescued.”
Paisley exhaled with a big sigh, taking it from me on her now wet fingers after squirting them to clean them before inserting the lens and blinking a few times. She turned back to me once it had settled, cheeks flushed.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said. “That never happens.”
“You’re lucky if it doesn’t,” I said. “I have one friend who can’t keep hers in. Something to do with the shape of her eye.” True story. Mahoney had to give up on them and go back to glasses. And with pupils too big for laser surgery she was stuck and not happy about it even a little.
“Thank you for the help,” Paisley said before her face shifted to concern and she reached out to touch my elbow. “I heard you had a fright. Are you okay?”
I’d almost forgotten about my close encounter though I was fairly sure it would be the source of nightmares for me over the next decade or so. “I’m fine,” I said, realizing I was lying and that if I didn’t find a way to get some rest soon I’d fall over. “Just tired.” Yeah, just. “I’m here to ask a favor.”
“Anything,” she said promptly. “What can I do?”
“You said the internet was back up in here?” I glanced at the computer on the desk nearby. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She gestured for me to take a seat. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
It was a huge effort to get up and move, but I did it, shaking my head, sinking into the padded office chair while Petunia settled in her favorite place between my feet. So comforting having her there, while I had a horrible thought. What if she’d been with me when I was pushed out into the storm? I couldn’t dream of losing her. Though if Petunia had been there, I doubted the killer would have snuck up on me so successfully. When we got home my pug was getting a treat of epic ice cream proportions. I realized then I was lost in thought and shook myself out of it. “Just checking into something,” I said to Paisley, wondering if the smile I wore looked as dazed as it felt, “and needed a bigger monitor.” That actually hadn’t been true but now that I stared at the twenty inch screen I realized the benefit. So much easier to compare the pictures of Elizabeth to that of the lurker in Mason’s photos. Especially in my wobbly condition.