Part 13 (2/2)
”Doesnt sound like Lucky.”
Smith laughed, without humor. ”Doesnt, does it? But even Mom knows to stop when shes beating her head against a brick wall. Well, sometimes she does. And Lorraine, at sixteen years old, is now the town sled.”
”The what?”
”Sled. Available for anyone to ride.”
”Isnt that a bit insensitive, Molly?”
”Its the way shes seen, even by some of our officers. I feel for the girl, I really do. But she doesnt want my help. Not that thats worth much, but she doesnt want Moms help or anyone elses. Now Garys back, maybe he can do something.”
The lodge came into view. There werent many vehicles left in the parking lot. The yellow lights of the lodge and outbuildings looked very small and insignificant against the dark bulk of the surrounding mountains. The moon was lifting above the crest of the mountain to the east. It was waxing, and the light was cold and very white. It made him think of Mollys proper first name.
”Thats mine, over there.”
A green car was parked close to the building, all alone. He pulled to a halt beside it. ”I asked the security guys to keep an eye on my skis,” Smith said. A single pair of skis remained in the racks at the back of the lodge. She climbed out of the car, unzipped her jacket pocket and pulled out her keys.
”Thanks for the ride, John. I appreciate it.” Her blue eyes said a lot more before she slammed the door shut. He watched her walk in that duck-like gait people in ski boots did. She found her skis and equipment and fastened them to the roof, then climbed into the drivers seat and burrowed into the pa.s.senger seat foot-well. She came up with a pair of winter boots and waved them at him. She turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life.
Winters made a wide circle, and set off down the dark mountain road.
Hed been in homicide in Vancouver for many years. Most murders consisted of a victim. Victim was found in a certain place. A few people, family members mostly, were the suspects. But in this case there was nothing he could put his finger on. He didnt even know if he had a murder.
He had a victim, or did he? Was there one victim, or none, or maybe two? No place of death that hed yet found. And no suspects to speak of. Hed found nothing in Ewans room at the B&B that would necessitate a forensic search, and hed accepted Ellie Carmines word that she hadnt had any blood spills to mop up. Not that he would necessarily accept her, or anyone elses, word about anything, but the Glacier Chalet was a crowded, busy place. Even in the middle of the night, he reflected, people seemed to be coming and going. He was pretty sure Ewan hadnt died there.
Jason and Ewan had been a couple of fun-loving rich boys on vacation. Them and their friend Jeremy, whod been released with a promise to return tomorrow. Local guys were upset because outsiders, dripping with money and good looks and educated voices, were moving in on their girlfriends.
Plenty of fodder for bar brawls. But for murder? Unlikely, although stranger, much stranger, things had happened over the course of his career.
Gary LeBlanc made an attractive candidate. Except for the fact that hed been angry at Jason, not Ewan.
And Ewan, Winters had to remember, was the one whod died first.
Jason had died in a car accident. There was not the slightest doubt about that. It was Ewans death that was the strange one.
Nevertheless, Winters knew deep in his cops gut that if he could find out why Jason had the dead body of his friend in his car, hed be a long way toward finding out why Ewan Williams had died.
It wasnt helping that the Wyatt-Yarmouth family were making phone calls and stamping their feet demanding attention. He could only hope the national media wouldnt pick this story up.
Williams had last been seen by his friends on Sunday the twenty-third. They spent the day skiing before returning to the B&B. Around five-thirty, Ewan had gone out alone, on foot, and had never been seen again.
Had something happened at the ski hill that day? His friends thought hed met a girl. But they hadnt seen her. Did Ewan run into trouble in town? Did he even make it to town?
His headlights picked out the sharp curves and steep banks of the mountain road. This police-issue mini-van was not the ideal vehicle for driving down treacherous mountain roads.
He turned a corner and came into a straightway. The lights of Smiths car behind him flooded the van.
Meredith Morgenstern had been calling, leaving messages hinting that she knew why he was keeping the bodies and why he was showing so much interest in a car accident. John Winters knew lots of good reporters. Men and women who did their jobs and let the police do theirs. Meredith Morgenstern wasnt one of them, and he wouldnt normally give her the time of day. But he might be able to toss her enough of a crumb that shed write a story asking anyone whod seen Ewan to come forward.
No one seemed to know where Ewan Williams had gone that night. But he had to have gone somewhere, and seen someone. If only the person whod last seen him alive.
If that person was Jason Wyatt-Yarmouth, Winters might never find out what happened.
Lucky Smith bit into a piece of shortbread. She didnt even chew, just let the b.u.t.tery dough dissolve in her mouth.
”Perfect,” she said to Ellie Carmine.
”Thanks.” Ellie sipped at her tea. She looked troubled.
”Whats happening about your guests?” Lucky asked. ”Im surprised theyre still here, after...Well, after what happened to their two friends.”
”The sister, Wendy, is waiting to leave with her parents and the boys body. Ive no idea whats going on but apparently the coroner isnt releasing the bodies yet, and wont say when.”
”That seems strange.”
”Perhaps you could ask Moonlight...”
”No.”
”I havent even said what I want to know.”
”I dont ask my daughter anything to do with police business.” Lucky would happily ask anything at all, but Moonlight wouldnt tell her more than was available to all in the pages of the Trafalgar Daily Gazette. Shed confided a few things to her mother in her early days with the department, but that had stopped.
”Having the police poking around, questioning the guests, its upsetting for everyone. It was just a car accident, for heavens sake. He is rather attractive, that Sergeant Winters, isnt he?”
”I hadnt noticed,” Lucky said, as her hand hovered over the plate of treats before settling upon a cookie formed into the shape of candy cane. Bands of pink and white dough wound through the cookie. She took an exploratory bite. Not as good as the shortbread.
The kitchen door flew open.
”Robbed. I 'ave been robbed.” It was a young woman, with long black hair and full lips. She would have been pretty if not for a much too prominent nose. She was dressed in leather ankle boots, form-fitting jeans, and a tight red T-s.h.i.+rt with Quebec printed across her chest in silver glitter.
Mrs. Carmine jumped to her feet. ”Sophie, what on earth?”
”My money. I 'id my money in the drawer. Beneath my clothes. It is gone. All gone.”
A strikingly handsome young man stood behind her. ”Shes right, Mrs. C. Sophie doesnt like to carry too much money when shes skiing, so she hides it in the dresser. It isnt there.”
Ellie placed one hand to her chest. ”There must be a mistake.”
”No mistake, certainement. Phone the Srete.”
”The what?”
”She means the police, Mrs. Carmine. Call the police.”
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