The Most Slippery Crime of the Year: Death On The Slopes: A Massanutten Tale (The Artzy Chicks Book 4)

by Judith Lucci

  "We'll know soon enough," Laura said, her voice flat. Both of us hated skiing accidents and knew they occurred a lot more often than anyone knew.

  A couple minutes later we pulled into the ski lodge parking area. LauraLea skillfully maneuvered her vehicle to a parking spot with the least amount of ice.

  Chapter 5

  Several minutes later the two of us were greeted by Wendell and seated at a corner table with a stupendous view of the snowy mountains and the ski slopes. LauraLea and I were seated opposite Wendell and his buddy, the tall, slick-looking Henry Hamilton, a blueblood with a huge law firm in Charlottesville, Virginia. Their reputation was neutral. I’d heard good and bad. Of course, there was the usual scuttlebutt about paid off lawyers, judges, and district attorneys, but nothing powerful enough to interfere with his sparkling private practice.

  "Henry, do you know Dr. Lily Lucci, the mystery writer?"

  Henry stood up and offered me his hand. He said in his loud, grandiose voice, perpetually honed for the courtroom, "I certainly have never met her, but it I feel like I know her well via her books," he said with a flourish as he looked around at the other folks in the ski lodge. “I generally get two or three of them for Christmas every year,” he intoned.

  I felt a blush crawl up my neck on to my face. I took Henry Hamilton's hand and offered a tight smile. "Thank you, Mr. Hamilton." I didn’t doubt for one moment that he’d ever read one of my books.

  Henry gave me a slight nod and I knew my moment of glory was over. He stared at LauraLea whose green eyes had narrowed with caution. She had a tight smile on her face. "Mr. Hamilton, I'm LauraLea. I own the Artisans Gallery on the mountain at Hopkins Park."

  Henry Hamilton nodded at LauraLea. "Yes, I've heard all about your gallery and you’re quite the accomplished artist as well. Isn't that right?" He beamed at her.

  I smiled to myself. Henry was more enamored with LauraLea than me. I kinda liked that.

  Laura nodded briefly. "I'd like to think so. I do a lot of art, but sometimes I feel quite unaccomplished," she said with a toss of her head.

  I was shocked. LauraLea was humble about a lot of things, but not her artistic talent. She was the best and she knew it.

  LauraLea looked good and I could tell that Wendell and Henry Hamilton thought so too. She wore a lovely sea green, almost teal top that set off her eyes. It perfectly matched her tapestry coat. Her expressive green eyes completed the package. She looked great, but of course, I’d never tell her that.

  I looked up as a young waiter approached us. I ordered a class of cabernet franc and Laura opted for a sweeter red. The men settled on Jack Black on the rocks. I shivered as I thought about how the whiskey would cut through someone's intestinal system. I'd never been a lover of heavy liquor. I smiled as I thought back to my Michaela McPherson series when part of my research had required that I taste the major types of Irish whiskey. I kinda like the Jameson, especially in my coffee. My research to make Michaela sound authentically Irish had turned me into an Irish coffee lover.

  Wendell ordered some yummy appetizers and my mood brightened. It was sinful how food inspired me, but I decided to worry about that later. I took a sip of my wine. It was very good and peppery on the finish. I nodded my head at Wendell. "Good selection on the franc."

  "I'm glad you approve, Miss Lily. I've heard you used to be a wine judge back in the day."

  I gritted my teeth. I hated that expression, back in the day. What was that supposed to mean? When exactly “was the day”? My grandchildren always say “back in the day” when they mean back when you were young. I gave him a forced smile.

  “Yes, I’ve judged a lot of wine in my time. And, I really enjoy good wine.”

  "Are you ladies busy at the gallery?" Henry asked.

  LauraLea nodded at me to answer. Her mouth was full of shrimp in a flaky pesto crust.

  "Yes, Artisans Gallery is doing quite well. Of course, it's like everything else in business, or bookselling, for that matter. There's always room for more sales." My voice sounded convincing.

  Henry nodded. "Good to hear. I was in there a couple of months ago and there were so many people I had a hard time checking out the art I purchased. Seems to me you could use a bigger gallery." He looked over at Laura and smiled. I checked out his teeth. I tried to imagine how much the dental work in his mouth cost. Probably more than most Americans make in the year.

  "Sure, we could use more space, but there just isn't any," Laura responded as she wiped her mouth with a cocktail napkin. "I don't see the Massanutten Property Owners Association doing anything at the Hopkins cabin. It’s an historic and protected property."

  “Miss Lily, do you think Massanutten will add on to the old cabin?” Wendell’s pig eyes searched my face.

  I rolled my eyes. "Nope. But it would be nice to have more classroom space." I saw the look that Wendell flashed Henry.

  Wendell took a deep breath.

  Here it comes. The pitch, I thought to myself. I flashed LauraLea a look. She sat quietly moving the shrimp around her small glass plate.

  "That's one of the reasons we invited you here today. As you know, I plan to build an upscale shopping center at the bottom of the mountain. I'd like you to consider being one of my tenants," he said with a flourish of his arm. "I'd be delighted to have Artisans Gallery as part of my lineup,” Wendell said graciously as he locked eyes with LauraLea.

  LauraLea looked over at me. "Now, that's an interesting offer, Wendell. But I'm fairly sure there's no way I'll be able to afford the rent that you'll charge down there." She paused for a moment and looked at me. "What do you think, Lily?"

  Wendell's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't finished his spiel. He raised his right hand as if to block my speech. "Wait a minute, Ms. LauraLea. I have no question at all that we wouldn't be able to reach a deal that would benefit both of us. I'd be honored to subsidize your rent for a couple of years. That wouldn't be a problem at all." He smiled brightly at LauraLea remained silent. I could only imagine what was cycling through her brain.

  I felt a slow thaw beginning in my heart. I reached for my wine glass and studied the ruby red cabernet. I looked up. LauraLea's eyes were on me and I knew what was coming.

  "What do you think, Lily? Do you see the benefit to moving Artisan Galleries to the bottom of the mountain?"

  Now I was on the hot seat. I looked at LauraLea and gave her my dirtiest look that was unrecognizable to most people. "Well, I don't know. Of course, there's certainly a few advantages. I'm sure you would enjoy having another gallery. Four more rooms of your own would be great. You could recruit a few more artists if you wanted. That would help offset your expenses."

  LauraLea offered up a slight nod. "It would also necessitate that I learn to tolerate and get along with five more mercurial, artistic temperaments." LauraLea shook her head. “I’m not sure I wanna do that

  Henry laughed. "Do say, LauraLea. Are artist’s really temperamental?"

  LauraLea threw her head back and laughed. "Indeed they are. But over the years I've learned how to deal with them and what I will and won't tolerate. We got a great group now and everyone gets along."

  I nodded. "I agree. We’ve had the same group of artists for over five years now and Massanutten guests know us and come back and buy art from the same artist year after year. Also, the cabin is quite historical, and people love to just come in and learn the history of Hopkins’ cabin." I noticed that Wendell had a slight flush moving up his neck. I figured he really didn't want to know what I had to say.

  "That's true," Henry agreed. But there's a formula for costing out each foot of retail space and I believe you could increase your revenues tremendously."

  "I'm never one to turn down money," LauraLea's voice was sensible. "However, our location in the resort offers us a captive audience. I'm not sure I’d have that at the bottom of the mountain." She picked up her wine glass. She'd almost finished her wine.

  Harry raised his index finger and flagged the waiter. Seconds late
r LauraLea had a new glass of wine.

  I cleared my throat and both men stared at me. "LauraLea is right. The Hopkins’ Cabin history, and charm of it is unparalleled and would be hard to duplicate. In my view, part of its charm is the fact that it is small and intimate." I saw a frown cross Wendell’s face as he shared a dark look at Henry."

  "But," LauraLea interrupted. "Space we could use down there at the bottom of the hill, would be classroom space. We desperately lack the space to teach art classes."

  I nodded. "That we do. Perhaps another small gallery and a couple of classrooms could be an extension of Artisan Galleries at the bottom of the mountain."

  Wendell's face bloomed with a smile. "I think that would be an excellent thing for you to do." He shot Henry a pleased look. "How do we proceed, Henry?"

  "I can certainly look into grants to subsidize the Artisan Galleries’ rent for the next five years, but firstly," he said, his voice serious, “we need to get the support of the county planning commission and board of supervisors for the project and would need to count on you ladies to support us."

  I reached for some crackers and cheese before I replied. I needed to buy time. Now we knew absolutely what these two guys wanted. I looked over at Laura and nodded.

  "I'd be interested in talking to you further," LauraLea spoke in her most professional, don't mess with me, voice. “However, I'll need a lot more detail on exactly what you plan to do and who you plan to put into the shopping center."

  I nodded. "I agree. It would seem you’ve got a battle on your hands with the resort. We all know it's Massanutten’s desire to keep their timeshare people on the mountain and out of town. I'm quite sure they'd fight you."

  Henry snickered. "Nah. Preliminary conversations suggest that we will be able to work with them. A greater concern for us is local opposition. A lot of locals don't want to see any more development anywhere near the mountain. We all know that the traffic during high season is horrible and it increases tenfold in the summer and during ski season."

  "It does and I hate it," LauraLea admitted. “The resort is constantly building and enlarging and you're right, the local people don’t support growth and the conservationists don't want the mountain messed with anymore. You'll have a battle on your hands," she predicted.

  Wendell nodded. "We know that. That's why we're coming to local business owners like you and well-known people and asking for their help and support. I hope you'll be on our side." Wendell flashed me a sly smile.

  I played with the stem of my wine glass and pushed my hair behind my ear. "I'll have to have a great deal more detail in what you all are planning to do before I'll commit to support." I gazed into Wendell’s eyes. “I’d like to know what else you plan to put in the shopping center at the bottom of the mountain.”

  Wendell nodded. “You’ll know, in due time.”

  Henry nodded and was about to speak when four rescue workers and paramedics entered the bar. He gave Wendell a sly look and gestured towards them.

  LauraLea change the subject. "Have you guys heard anything about the ski accident earlier?"

  "No. Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Henry assured me. "I imagine it's probably one of the resort tourists who tried to advance to the diamond slope far too quickly."

  I shrugged my shoulders. "Perhaps so, but nevertheless a ski death is a tragic accident."

  "It is indeed," Wendell assured me with a shake of his head. "I'm sure we'll hear more a bit later. Nevertheless, ski accidents are never good for ski resorts." He glanced briefly at Henry. I noted a slight smile cross his lips. “It sort of suggests a lack of safety.”

  Henry nodded in agreement as he flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his suit jacket. "I'm sure Massanutten isn't worried about it. They've got a great group of trial lawyers on retainer."

  I looked at my watch and stood. "Gentlemen, thank you so much for the wine and the hors d'oeuvres. Please forward me information about your shopping project and I'll be delighted to review it," I ended with a smile. “We’ve got dinner plans in town and we probably should stop by the gallery and close up.”

  LauraLea stood as well. "Yes, thank you. And thank you for telling me about your plans." She smiled her bright white smile that dazzled the entire bar.

  Wendell shook both of our hands and Henry gave us his weasel smile. "We’ll be in touch," Wendell promised.

  I clasped hands with both men and thanked them again for the wine. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  LauraLea and I left the Lodge, walked around the ice and headed towards her Lexus. Both of us sighed in relief. We weaved our way, walking carefully, across the parking lot and saw Kenzie standing near her vehicle with Solomon.

  Chapter 6

  “Hey, Kenzie,” I hollered. She turned around and smiled at us. Kenzie was a lovely, thirty-something brunette widow who hung out with LauraLea and I. She was a great girl. She motioned me forward. “Who let the two of you out in public?” she joked. Solomon’s tail wagged furiously as we approached.

  "Have you been skiing?" LauraLea joked back as she leaned down to scratch Solomon's ears. The big black lab was beautiful. His coat was sleek and shiny in the waning afternoon sun.

  Kenzie removed her stocking cap and tossed her long brown hair. She made a face and grimaced. "Not hardly. I wish I had been skiing instead of investigating a ski murder.

  My hand flew to my mouth. "A murder? You think someone was murdered on the ski slope?" I paused and added, "that would be hard to commit, wouldn't it?”

  Kenzie shrugged her shoulders. "You tell me, Lily Lucci. You're the one that writes the books and makes up the crime scenes. All I do is investigate them as best I can."

  I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea how to commit murder on a ski slope. I was a former skier which should offer me some insight, so I guessed I’d just start with the evidence.

  "Was someone shot?" LauraLea's green eyes showed her dismay at the possibility of a murder. "It could've been a hunter in the George Washington National Forest."

  Kenzie shook her head. "Nope, no bullets or hunters are involved in this one. As a matter-of-fact, I can't prove it was murder yet. But, when you have a highly skilled, former Olympic skier on the slope, even an advanced slope, on a perfect ski day it does make you wonder."

  I nodded, "Yeah, it would make me wonder, but accidents do happen." I leaned over to pay attention to Solomon who left LauraLea’s side and sidled up to me. This lab was smart he knew he’d get all the love and attention he wanted from me.

  Kenzie looked fondly at her dog. "You ladies are such pushovers. Solomon knows you'll stand there and scratch his ears and neck in zero temperatures."

  “Solomon's a smart dog," LauraLea admitted. "So, have you identified the body? The one on the slopes?"

  Kenzie's face sobered. "Yep. We’ve identified the victim, but we haven't notified the next of kin at this point."

  I grinned at LauraLea. "So, that means she can't tell us, so we'll just have to wait like the rest of the people around."

  "Yeah, that's the way it's gonna have to be," Kenzie agreed. "By the way, how come you ladies are up here at the Lodge? Who's minding the gallery?"

  I shook my head and frowned. "LauraLea dragged me up here for a business meeting with Wendell Hallet and his illustrious Charlottesville lawyer." I saw Kenzie’s pupils dilate. I was pretty sure Wendell wasn’t her cup of tea.

  "Oh, stop it, Lily! It wasn't that bad,” LauraLea grumbled. You had a really good glass of wine and some pretty good hors d’oeuvres or at least enough to hold us until dinner."

  I rolled my eyes but didn’t speak.

  LauraLea turned to Kenzie. "We're still on for dinner, aren't we?"

  Kenzie nodded her head. She looked tired. "Yeah. I think so. I’ve figured out how I can do it. I’m probably gonna pull an all-nighter. I can have Fred deliver my ski victim’s skis, bindings and equipment down to Roanoke. I want to do the autopsy tonight because I don't want to miss anything. That said, I should have a good d
inner, correct?" She looked a bit frustrated, detached. And, if you looked into her eyes, she was visibly sad.

  I nodded my head. “Yes, if you’re gonna be driving and working late, you need a good dinner. What time works?”

  Kenzie checked her watch. “Let’s see. How about 7:30? That gives me several hours to get things organized here and time to get into the ‘Burg.”

  LauraLea was confused. "Why do you have to autopsy him tonight? What? Do you think he's gonna change overnight? Isn't dead, dead?"

  Kenzie grabbed Solomon's lead, spoke softly to the dog. "Yeah. Dead is dead, but I got a funny feeling about this one and I'd like to follow my hunches.” She paused and kicked at some ice near her tire. “I've called Benson and asked him to come home. He was on his way to Asheville to visit his family. I’ve asked him to come back and help me with the investigation."

  This must be a big case. Kenzie had been begging Benson to take some time off for months. I watched as Kenzie opened the back of her SUV so Solomon could jump in. I observed her body language as she loaded her truck. She seemed tired, defeated in fact. Something was wrong. "You must be pretty curious about this, Kenzie, especially to pull an all-nighter,” I smiled.

  Kenzie nodded and turned around to look at me. "Yeah, I am. This could be a potentially high-profile case and I want to get my evidence straight and tied together. If my suspicions are correct and this case is a murder, there's no room for error." I thought Kenzie looked pale. She seemed a little frazzled to me. Kenzie was never frazzled. I was concerned.

  LauraLea looked at me. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you this serious, Kenzie, and we've gone through a few murders together."