Part 8 (1/2)
”You were telling me about the last time you saw Mr. Williams. Sunday evening, after skiing?”
”Right.”
”What time was that?”
”Five, at a guess.”
”You didnt have dinner together?”
”I told you no. We didnt necessarily all eat together every night.”
”Who did you have dinner with?”
”Why are you bothering me with useless questions? My brother is dead. It was a car accident, plain and simple! Cant you just leave me the h.e.l.l alone?”
”For what its worth, I am sorry for your loss. But I have my reasons, and my questions are not useless. Dinner, Sunday night?”
”I went with Jason and Alan and his girlfriend Sophie.”
”What did the others do, Jeremy, Rob, and Ewan?”
She took a deep breath and studied the wooden Santa Claus on the table. Jolly old Saint Nick. f.u.c.k him too. ”I dont know. They went their way, we went ours.”
”What did you do after dinner?”
”Came back here. Alan and Sophie like to go to bed early. Theyre tired after a days skiing.”
”Did Jason go out again?”
She knew exactly what Jason had done and Ewan as well, but she wasnt going to tell the cops. She tried to look as if she were struggling to remember. ”Sorry, Mr. Winters,” she said at last, ”but I cant say for sure. I didnt see him leave, but he might have.” He had, in fact, phoned Lorraine, his bootie call, from the sidewalk outside the restaurant. He drove the group back to the B&B, went to his room for a few minutes, and then left, without telling anyone where he was going. Jason and Ewan were a couple of tom cats, always on the make. And that was none of this d.a.m.ned cops business. She looked at the tissue in her hands-it was shredded to ribbons. She wiped at her nose with the back of her sleeve. Winters got a box of tissues from the table and handed it to her. She pulled one out, and blew her nose, resisting the urge to be polite and say thank you.
He walked to the window and looked out on the snow-covered garden, allowing Wendy a few moments of privacy to wipe her face and compose herself.
Sunday night shed been lying in bed, not able to sleep, when she heard footsteps in the hall and Jasons voice. A female said something in return. Jason had been alone at breakfast the next morning.
Sergeant Winters turned from the window. ”You didnt see Ewan Williams again, after approximately five oclock on Sunday evening?”
She wiped her eyes. ”No.”
”Ill need to speak with the rest of your group, Ms. Wyatt-Yarmouth.” He handed her his card. She took it. ”Id appreciate it if youd ask them to give me a call the minute they get in.”
Nice words: Appreciate it. As if he wouldnt hesitate to clap them in irons if they didnt call.
He hadnt touched his coffee or the homemade cookies. Mrs. Carmine would be disappointed. Wendy could imagine the old bat leaning up against the kitchen door, ears flapping.
”We want to help,” she said, getting to her feet to show him out.
Mrs. Carmine came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n.
”Id like to have a look at Ewans room, if I may,” he asked her. ”Have you cleaned the room since they died?”
”Of course I have. And I removed their things. Wendy wasnt up to it, so Sophie helped Kathy pack their suitcases.”
”Id still like to have a look.”
Mrs. Carmine led him back through the common room and up the stairs. Wendy threw herself into a chair. She heard Sergeant Winters ask Mrs. C if she had noticed anything out of order. She answered in the negative.
It wasnt long before they came back down. Wendy was still sitting in the common room, a pile of soggy tissues on her lap.
This was all such a nightmare. Her parents wanted her to wait in Trafalgar and go home together. She wanted to leave but the effort of organizing a flight home seemed beyond her.
It was just so unfair.
Mrs. C gave her what she probably thought was a sympathetic smile. Wendy got to her feet and followed them to the hall, wanting to see for herself that the cop got through the door and wasnt about to jump out and say ”One more question.”
”Isnt he just the cutest thing,” Mrs. Carmine said, as the two women watched John Winters walk to his van. ”His wife is a famous supermodel.”
Yeah, right. Kate Moss secretly living here in back of nowhere British Columbia.
”Enjoy your nap, dear.” Mrs. Carmine returned to her kitchen.
Wendy made major noise heading up the stairs. She used the bathroom and then tiptoed back down.
Never mind a nap. She needed to go shopping.
Lucky Smith came out of her cramped office at the back of Mid-Kootenay Adventure Vacations. It was past four oclock and the sun had dipped behind Koola Glacier. She zipped up her bulky winter coat and wrapped her beloved hand-woven blue scarf twice around her neck. Lucky didnt normally indulge in luxuries, but shed fallen so in love with a scarf shed seen being created on an old wooden loom in Crawford Bay that, after months of agonizing about the cost, shed gone back to buy one.
The shop was busy. Andy, her husband and partner in the business, was helping a young woman, an outsider, choose a ski jacket. Flower, their employee, was ringing up a pair of gloves and woolen socks for a local.
A man examined snowshoes hanging on the back wall, and a young mother held her toddler up to see the display of nature and eco-adventure books. The child pointed to one; his mom took it off the shelf, and without checking the price, carried it to the counter. It was the 28th of December and, so far, they hadnt had too many Christmas returns.
In years past the company had offered guided snowmobile tours and cross-country ski trips into the mountains, but as Andy got older and the children, Samwise and Moonlight, grew up and left home, theyd given up that part of the business and concentrated on the shop in the winter. The rest of the year, they offered guided hourly and multi-day hiking and kayaking trips.
The bell over the door tinkled as a group of vacationers came in. Laughing, they shook heads full of fresh snow and stamped slush-covered boots.
Lucky waved her fingers at Flower, and smiled good-bye to Andy. He gave her a wink so suggestive Lucky felt the color rising into her cheeks. Since Moonlight had moved out Andys libido seemed to have gone into overdrive. And Lucky didnt mind one bit.
She wouldnt be at all surprised if he told Flower he was going for coffee and hurried home after his wife. Even Flower might think an hours coffee break was a bit much. It had been easier when they were young and operated a shoe-string operation. Not having to worry about employees or inquisitive children, Andy would toss the sign on the door to closed and take Lucky into the broom closet.
Those had been good days for sure.
The glove-and-sock-purchasing local said hi to Lucky and left the store. She prepared to follow.
”Lucky,” Flower said. ”Can I speak to you for a minute?” Her face was drawn into serious lines.
”Sure.” Lucky rounded the counter. ”Whats the matter?”