Murder on Ice

by B. T. Lord

  Emerging into the parking lot, she looked right and left and breathed a sigh of relief that no one had yet thought to stake out the back door. Apparently, the crowds were too busy howling for her blood in front of headquarters. She sprinted to her vehicle, got in and was soon roaring down side roads, making sure to avoid Main Street and attract attention to herself. The last thing she wanted was to be followed by a pack of reporters when she was trying to question potential witnesses.

  Carolyn lived on the outskirts of town in a cluster of homes that bordered the high school. The majority of the houses were old, quaint Victorians with small porches and steps that led up to the front door. With Thanksgiving only weeks away, many of the homes were already decorated with wreaths made of fall foliage leaves and snow covered pumpkins left over from Halloween still adorning the front steps. The houses were situated on small lots so the possibility of one of the neighbors hearing Carolyn’s SUV in the middle of the night was good.

  Unfortunately, those neighbors who were still awake couldn’t agree on a time they heard Carolyn’s SUV fire up. That is, if they heard it at all. Some thought it was two am, others thought it was four. But at least those that did hear something concurred that a vehicle did drive away from Carolyn’s house sometime during the night of Eli’s murder. The question was, who was driving?

  Her next stop was the elderly couple who lived on the other side of the pine tree grove from Eli’s house. To her dismay, the house was shut up. Talking to their closest neighbors who were about a quarter of a mile away, she discovered the couple had gone off to Bangor that morning for the birth of their first grandchild. They would be gone for a week.

  She double-checked Eli’s house and saw the police tape still wrapped around the entrances. There were footprints in the snow, but they all stopped short of the front and back doors.

  The shadows were growing long, and the sun was almost set when she wearily trudged back to the Explorer. She’d wasted the afternoon and had nothing to show for her efforts, except a collection of foul looks, contradicting stories, and in the case of hockey enthusiast eighty-five year old Horace Cloutier, the finger. She turned on the Explorer and set the heat to full blast. Then sat with her arms crossed and looked out over the snow covered forest.

  This was not good. With little to go on and the townspeople up in arms, she wondered once again if she should take herself off the case. It was going to be hard enough trying to solve this thing without the rancor and hatred of Twin Ponds dogging her every step. She reached for her cell and started to punch in the autodial to Rick when she stopped.

  No. Damn it, she was not giving up. She didn’t care if Eli had slept with someone the night he died. She didn’t care that she was hated because she’d arrested Jace three days before one of the biggest games in the Night Hawks’ schedule. She did care that Jace had gone off with Carolyn, but not enough to taint the investigation. She was the only one in Twin Ponds who had the experience and know-how to get this thing done and done correctly. Rick was an excellent officer, but the only cases he’d dealt with so far in the three years he’d been deputy involved car crashes, drunken teenagers and the occasional spousal abuse when the parties had too much to drink and had gone at each other. He’d never investigated a murder. There hadn’t been a murder in Twin Ponds in fifty years and the last one had been solved almost immediately when the logger had stumbled in from the woods with the ax in his hand still covered with the victim’s brains.

  As for Russell, Tom and Dave, her part-time deputies, their most perplexing cases had to do with a stolen snow mobile and handling crowd control every June 15 when Twin Ponds held a parade to celebrate its founding in 1865.

  Short of calling in help from Houlton, which she was loathe to do, she had no choice. They were good officers, but they didn’t know Twin Ponds the way she did. She knew these people, she knew what made them tick. She knew their quirks, their likes, dislikes. She knew –

  You thought you knew Jace.

  Cammie felt her stomach clench.

  She glanced out the window of the Explorer and remembered a saying her father would use occasionally, telling her in one of his rare lucid moments, that he’d picked it up in Vietnam.

  Hope for the best, but expect the worst.

  She’d never really understood, nor at the time wanted to. It was enough that he’d spoken to her. But now, his words made sense. Too much sense.

  The worst wasn’t long in coming. Just as she swung the Explorer around and was headed towards Waban Pond, her cell phone rang.

  “Sheriff Farnsworth here.”

  “How could you do it? I thought you were in love with Jace.”

  Cammie groaned. It was Jace’s father.

  “Mr. Northcott--”

  “You’re a disgrace, do you know that? People have been calling us all day, telling us the disgusting details of you and that Eli fella. I’m calling the governor and having you suspended.”

  “What you are hearing are lies, Mr. Northcott--”

  “That’s what I expect someone like you to say. I knew Jace never should have gotten involved with you. Not only are you too old for him, but from what I’ve been hearing, you have a sleazy past that finally caught up with you. You’ve broken that boy’s heart and now you’re ruining his life to cover up your sordid--”

  Cammie abruptly flipped shut the phone. She’d always known the Northcotts weren’t too crazy about their only son becoming involved with her, but she hadn’t expected this type of attack. She was hurt, angry and ready to punch something. And filled with a fierce determination that, come hell or high water, she was going to solve this damned murder. It was with these emotions that she set about tracking down Jace’s teammates.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Night Hawks’ locker room was a fancy word for what was essentially an oversized tool shed located on the shore of Waban Pond. The huge klieg lights were on, illuminating the ice, and she could hear the thawk of the puck and the gliding of skates as many of the players were already out on the ice honing their skills to beat down their rivals.

  Everyone except Jace – a fact that was plainly evident when she knocked on the door and came face to face with Scottie Johnston. He was dressed in his hockey uniform and was holding his formidable hockey stick in front of him like a weapon.

  “Hey Scottie, I was hoping I could talk to you about the other night when you were at Zee’s.”

  Standing six feet two and a half inches, he towered over Cammie. His stiff demeanor, surly attitude and fierce glare told Cammie this wasn’t going to be easy. But she’d learned long ago to ignore intimidation, especially from hockey players. And with the day she’d had and the phone call she’d just received, she was actually spoiling for a fight. She looked up and met his dark gaze.

  “I don’t expect you to believe it, but I’m trying my best to find any information that will prove Jace is innocent. Do you, Hank, Matt or Joey want to help with that?”

  “If you think he’s so innocent, why’d you arrest him?”

  “I had no choice.”

  “Bull.”

  “All the evidence is pointing to him right now. If I didn’t arrest him, people would say I was playing favorites and I’d lose all credibility. If I lose credibility, I’ll never solve this thing.” She leaned closer and added, “If I thought it was an open and shut case, I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”

  She could see the wheels turning in his head and swiftly took advantage of his indecision. “It would really help if you and the guys could tell me what happened at Zee’s the other night.”

  Scottie said nothing. Instead, he turned and re-entered the locker room, slamming the door behind him. Cammie waited in the snow, jumping up and down in an effort not to freeze to death. She didn’t know if Scottie was going to come out again and she was growing impatient. As well as increasingly cold. Three sweaters and two pairs of socks weren’t getting the job done. She cursed under her frigid breath and was about to pound on the door when
it opened.

  “We got a few minutes,” Scottie growled before stepping back inside. Cammie quickly followed.

  The smell of sweaty socks hit her immediately, catapulting her back in time. She hadn’t been in this locker room since Eli’s departure for the NHL and was surprised to see it hadn’t changed at all. There were cubby holes for each individual player’s equipment, with long benches circling the room. The partition at the far end of the room that had been put up for her years back was still there. Two females were on the current roster, a fact she quietly took pride in.

  As much as she once considered Eli’s house a second home, this had been her true home. The hours sitting in here, joking with the guys, enjoying the feeling of belonging. The hours practicing on the ice, sharing the nights they’d won, the nights they’d lost. It forged deep ties with each player – deeper sometimes than those with their own families. Cammie understood their anger towards her. She’d arrested not only one of their team members, but their captain. In their eyes, she was no better than dirt.

  Scottie, Hank, Joey and Matt were sitting on the bench opposite the door. Each was glaring defiantly at her; Scottie balling and unballing his fist, Hank smacking his stick against the floor. They were large men; their uniforms making them look even bigger. And more menacing. It suddenly occurred to her that she’d placed herself in a very vulnerable position by stepping into this locker room with four intimidating men who wanted nothing more than to pound her to a pulp. They could do anything and it was certain no one would come to her aid. She shook off the frightening thought. She had to show them she was not afraid. Any hint of fear and she was done for. She therefore fell back on her game face – the one that had helped her since her own days on the ice. She forced herself to draw closer to them.

  “I need you to tell me what you saw Monday night at Zee’s.”

  “Lots of beer bottles, lots of billiard balls and lots of women,” Matt quipped sarcastically. The others laughed.

  “Look guys, I know how you feel. I was once a part of this place.”

  Hank spit and it landed near her boot. “Bullshit, Sheriff. You lost your place with us when you put Jace in a cell.”

  She looked to Scottie. “I guess you didn’t tell them what we spoke about outside.”

  His brown eyes glowered. “I did. This is their response.”

  Cammie inwardly fumed. She’d already struck zero today. She’d be damned if she walked away from these guys with nothing.

  “Okay, you guys want to hate me? Take a number with the rest of this town. But will you at least help Jace?”

  “Through you?” Matt asked sardonically.

  She went up to him and stuck her finger in his face. “Yeah, asshole, through me. I’m the only one in this godforsaken town that has the background and experience to unravel this fucking mess. Now are you going to waste more time showing me how tough you are, or are you going to answer my goddamn question?”

  She took a step back and waited. The guys looked at each other. Then, as the silent agreement passed between them, Matt turned to her.

  “Alright, Sheriff. We’ll answer your question. But we’re doing this for Jace and Jace only. Got that?”

  “Got it.”

  “We got to Zee’s around seven. We must have playing pool for about an hour before Jace showed up. He looked pissed off so we bought him some beers to cheer him up.”

  “How long was he drinking with you?”

  “About two hours, I think. We were finishing up 9-ball when Carolyn Haskell showed up.” Matt looked at Cammie and offered her a cruel smile. “She was draped over him like a blanket. From where I was standing, looked like she grabbed the family jewels, if you know what I mean.” He chuckled.

  Cammie coolly ignored his remark. “Before Carolyn showed up, did Jace say anything? Maybe give you a reason why he was angry?”

  Scottie spoke up. “He didn’t, but then again, he didn’t need to. Everyone was talking about how you stranded him there and took off with Kelley.”

  “As usual, people fucked up the details,” Cammie replied drily.

  “How about you tell us the details?” Scottie challenged. “After all, with you being a former Night Hawker, we are like family.”

  It was said sarcastically. Yet Cammie considered it. She rested her boot against the bench and leaned in.

  “The details, guys, are simple. Eli was receiving threatening notes, the last one enough to frighten him. He told me about it and as sheriff I had a duty to investigate. I went to check out his story just as I would anyone who came to me with the same concern. If I’d abandoned Jace like the story goes, I doubt he would have still been waiting at Zee’s two hours after I left.” She looked into each of the player’s eyes, daring them to contradict her. To her satisfaction, they looked away first. “How long after Carolyn showed up did they leave?”

  “Ten minutes top,” Scottie grumbled.

  Cammie did a quick calculation. “So he and Carolyn left Zee’s around tenish?” They nodded. “Do you know anything about the bruises Jace got on his face?”

  They looked at each other in surprise. “What bruises?” Hank asked.

  “Somebody had a go at him.”

  “You know who?”

  She looked at each one of their faces. “We think it was Eli.” The four sat in stunned silence. “He was so drunk, he didn’t stand a chance defending himself.” The implications of what she was saying sank in.

  “Shit,” Hank whispered under his breath.

  “Yeah. Listen, if there’s anything you remember about that night that you haven’t told me, please call me right away.”

  She started to turn away when Hank’s words caused her to stop. “I tried to stop him from going with Carolyn, but he basically told me to fuck off.”

  Cammie looked back at him. “Thank you,” she responded.

  On the way home, Cammie held her breath. She didn’t know who or what she’d find staked out on her doorstep. Two nights with little sleep had caught up to her, and she didn’t think she had any more energy to deal with disgruntled neighbors or reporters.

  The road to her cabin was unmarked and when she pulled into the driveway, she saw the property was deserted.

  It wasn’t until she removed her parka and sweaters and stood in the middle of the living room that the silence of the cabin hit her. It wasn’t the first time Jace hadn’t been there; he’d been away on road trips with the team before. But despite his absences, there was the knowledge that he’d always be back. Now there was a permanency to the silence that unnerved her. As if his ghost had seeped into every log, every piece of furniture and was mocking her. Telling her that this was one time when he wouldn’t be returning.

  “Jeez,” she whispered under her breath.

  She glanced around and her heart sank. There on the coffee table was Jace’s fur hat. Over by the end table was his extra pair of gloves. Looking through the open door of the bedroom, she saw his hockey equipment piled in the corner.

  This was worse than she ever could have imagined.

  “Get a grip,” she admonished herself. “You lived alone for years before Jace showed up. You didn’t need him in your life. You wanted him in your life. There’s a big difference. There’s every possibility that he’s not guilty. Remember that.”

  Shit, she was now talking aloud to herself. She clicked her tongue and started towards the kitchen. Even this felt strange. No matter what time she came home, Jace always had a meal waiting for her. Now she was going to have to risk burning down her cabin if she ever planned to eat again.

  Unless she ate cereal. That was simple. And safer.

  Changing into a pair of jeans and oversize sweater, she was soon sitting in the recliner with a roaring fire in the stove, finishing up her bowl of corn flakes. It hadn’t exactly hit the spot, but at least it was something. She was going to have to raid Emmy’s stash of Twinkies tomorrow, or else sneak into Zee’s to grab a bite.

  She washed the dish, sat back down in
the recliner and stared at the increasingly silent room. It had been over a year since she’d been alone. Despite her earlier remonstration that she didn’t need Jace in her life, she had to admit that if there was one night she could have used the feel of his strong arms around her, it was tonight. But he hated her right now. Hell, everybody hated her right now.

  She flipped through the channels on the tiny nineteen inch TV, browsed her meager bookshelf, even looked into her knitting basket that, to her chagrin was growing cobwebs, but she couldn’t find anything to pass the time. Or forget about the case, which ruminated around her brain whether she wanted it to or not.

  When the knock came on the door, she literally jumped up, happy to have something to do. It wasn’t until she was almost to the door that she realized it could be a reporter. Or a townsperson ready to shoot her. But the cabin was so damned quiet, she’d risk it. She swung open the door and bit back a gasp.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we were told we’d find Sheriff Farnsworth here.”

  Cammie stared at the elegant couple on her doorstep and wondered what yacht they’d fallen off of.

  The man was dressed in a camel hair coat similar to the one Eli had owned. He stood a little over six feet tall, with slicked back black hair that was beginning to show strands of grey. Cammie guessed him to be in his early 40’s. His gloves were of the finest leather and his cologne was musky and rich.

  The woman standing beside him appeared to be much younger; Cammie put her at about twenty-five. She was dressed in a full length white fur coat with a matching fur hat on her coiffed white blonde hair. Her face was carefully made up and when she held up her gloved hand, the diamonds on her various bracelets caught the light and almost blinded Cammie with their sparkle.

  “I’m Sheriff Farnsworth,” she replied warily.

  “Good Lord, so you’re Cammie!” the man exclaimed. Before Cammie knew what was happening, she found herself engulfed in his arms. “Eli never stopped speaking about you. You’re every bit as lovely as he described.” At this, the man’s voice suddenly broke and Cammie found herself holding a weeping man.