by Judith Lucci
"Kenzie's correct." He turned to Kenzie. "Show Lily the pictures of the boulder."
Kenzie patted my hand. "Take a look, Lily, and tell me what you see."
I was surprised the rock was so cleverly hidden by snow. Of course, in this part of Virginia we had lots of bluestone that blended in well with the snow. It would've been difficult to see the boulder from a distance, particularly going as fast as a skier would travel on that part of the Diamond Jim. When I flipped to the next picture my heart stilled. I looked at Kenzie and Benson who watched my face carefully.
I flipped the picture back and looked at the snow-covered rock. "Something’s wrong here. There’s snow one side of the rock and... Is that dirt on the other side?" I frowned and turned the phone so I could see better.
Kenzie nodded grimly. "That's exactly what that is. That rock hasn't been there a long time. In fact, it's probably not even been there for twenty-four hours. Otherwise the dirt would've been mixed with snow, even man-made snow... but it wasn't."
For a moment I felt nauseous. Someone had deliberately placed a rock carefully in the area where a skier would hit it and crash. Someone had planned to kill and had succeeded in killing Sam Painter."
I was speechless as I continued to look at Kenzie's pictures of the rock. I shook my head. “This makes me sick!”
"What is even more damning," Benson added, "is that the dirt and soil on the rock came from another part of the county. Geology studies suggest the rock didn't come off or from Massanutten Mountain."
I clenched and unclenched my fist. I felt useless, impotent. "But... but why? Why would someone go to the trouble to kill Sam?" I paused as images flashed through my mind. “Plus, how did the killer get a huge boulder up to the top of the slope?”
"Those are questions we’ll have to answer," Kenzie said in her matter of fact voice. "But, remember Lily. Sam was against the expansion of Massanutten Resort and growth on the mountain in general. She paused, “In fact, he was ostensibly opposed to growth in the entire Shenandoah Valley — at least growth without attention to the natural surroundings and attention to an adequate infrastructure.”
I nodded as a zillion thoughts danced through my head. “Yeah, you’re right.” My mind zoomed ahead. “Oh, did you see the Op-Ed in this morning’s paper. It’s by the investigative reporter, Scott Futrell. He’s cloaked it nicely, but I think he suspects foul play in Sam’s death!”
Kenzie’s eyes widened. “No, do you have it?”
“Yeah, on the sofa in the living room. You want me to get it?”
Kenzie shook her head. “No. I’ll read it in there. I can focus better.” She nodded to Benson, “Tell Lily what else you’ve learned.” Kenzie left the kitchen and went into the living room.
Benson nodded and looked at me. “I checked out Sam in the media. He was totally conservative about the environment and development. Several months ago, he said publicly that he’d veto any further development on the mountain that didn’t advocate for the preservation of natural resources at every turn.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that didn’t earn him any brownie points with the local developers. I remember a fiery retort by several land developers a week or so later.”
“But,” I said, “Sam wasn’t against growth and change. He just wanted controlled growth and wanted to preserve the forest and streams and natural habitats for animals.”
Benson nodded. “That’s true, but that’s always an expensive way to build. I would imagine the costs would at least double... maybe even triple in some cases.”
Kenzie returned to the kitchen, the newspaper in her hand. Her face was pale. “We’ve gotta see this guy, Benson. See if you can set us up for this afternoon.”
Benson nodded and continued, “Yes, there’s no question that Sam Painter was a serious environmentalist and didn't want the land on the mountain destroyed any further. He advocated that people live in harmony with our natural landscape.”
I nodded. “Sam didn’t want any more of the Shenandoah River or streams polluted via reckless development. He hated to see the excavators tearing through the mountains and uprooting trees and forests and displacing wildlife. He wanted the natural habitats for wildlife and waterfowl preserved.”
Benson removed a clipped newspaper article from his file. “Do you all remember the talk he made six months ago or so, at the Kiwanis? He criticized most developers, not just the resort, but everyone for desecrating the mountain, natural springs and rivers?"
Kenzie nodded her head. "He also objected to numerous subdivisions and developers buying up hundreds of acres of rich, fertile farm land. More subdivisions meant more roadways more development of commercial and residential areas. Sam didn't want the Valley to continue to grow without the infrastructures in place — unlike a lot of other people who don’t care about water pollution and displaced wildlife." Kenzie had an angry look in her eye. “He tried to protect the natural beauty of the Shenandoah Valley.”
“He’d also moved into organic farming and used no pesticides and herbicides on his fields. He tried to preserve the land as well,” Benson noted.
I nodded. "I remember that. But is it enough or was it enough to kill him for?”
“Yeah it is... at least in my book,” Kenzie gave me a surprised look.
"I think it's safe to assume that Sam had a lot of political enemies," Benson suggested in a soft voice. "What we've got to do is figure out who had the greatest to lose if their growth and development plans were thwarted by Sam Painter’s objections."
Kenzie spoke, “I’d say Wendell Hallet.”
I nodded my head and put my thinking cap on. I needed to ponder the realities of Sam’s obsession with the environment. Was it enough to get him killed?
Kenzie interrupted my thoughts. "Do you still have your good friend down at the county planning office?" She winked at me.
"Rosemary Pritchard? Yep, I sure do. She’s the county planning officer. Maybe I'll call and see if she's available for dinner. Nothing, and I mean there’s nothing, absolutely nothing residential or commercial that doesn’t go past her desk. She, more than anyone, would know the lay of the land, so to speak." I was confident about that. Rosemary was the head of the county planning office as well as a county executive.
Kenzie grinned. "That’d be super helpful, Lily. Let me know what you find out." Kenzie was interrupted by several barking dogs. “Do you think you could contact her this afternoon?”
I laughed. “Sure. As I remember it, she owes me a few favors.” My voice was confident. Besides, Rosemary was an old friend.
"Well, I guess it's time to let the dogs back in," Benson laughed as he rose and headed towards my art room to let them in.
Sixty seconds later five dogs were in the kitchen waiting in line as Kenzie gave each of them a treat.
She smiled at me and said, "Sometimes I think dogs have more fun, don't you?"
“You mean more fun than humans?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean,” she said with a huge smile. “Dogs aren’t concerned with uncontrolled development and murder.”
I rose from the kitchen table walked over and gave her a hug. "We'll figure this out, Kenzie. I promise."
Kenzie hugged me back. "I know we will, but we still lost a good friend and a great guy."
We hugged each other for a few seconds until Solomon pushed his big black head in between us and glanced up at his mistress.
I laughed and rubbed his ears. "That dog can read you like a book, plus he’s jealous because no one is hugging him!"
Kenzie ruffled Solomon's ears and the ears of my dogs as well. "We gotta go but thanks for lunch, Lily. That was an unexpected treat.”
“It was certainly better than that hot dog I planned to have at the 7-Eleven,” Benson said in a grateful voice. “Those hot dogs taste pretty good once and a while, but this was ten times better for me!” He gave me a hug and smiled down at me.
"It was my pleasure and it was wonderful to see you both,"
I said as I walked with them outside via the garage which really needed an overhaul.
I watched as Kenzie opened the back of her SUV for Solomon to jump in and got into the driver side of the vehicle. I was glad she and Benson were my friends. They were good people. I wished they would fall in love and get married. They seemed perfect to me. I had a running bet with LauraLea that they would. I’d hate to lose my $100.00.
Chapter 13
I watched Kenzie and Benson back out of the driveway, gathered up my dogs, straightened the dishes and went into my office to work. Half an hour later my phone rang. It was Wendell. What in the world did he want again? It was like he thought he was my new best friend.
"Good afternoon, Lily. How's your day been today?"
"Pretty good. I had friends in for lunch and as of just now started to work." I hope my voice didn't sound as cross and irritable to Wendell as it sounded to me.
"I've just gotten off the phone with LauraLea and she's delighted to join us for dinner tomorrow evening at the Joshua Wilton house. Does seven work for you?"
I was speechless and didn't reply. I'd never told him I'd have dinner. I didn't want to go. Besides, he’d asked for next week – dinner at the country club.
"Lily, Lily are you still there?"
"Yes, I'm here, Wendell, but I don't know if I'm free tomorrow night. I think I told you last night that I wasn’t necessarily available."
"Oh," Wendell said softly. "I expect I misunderstood. I thought our plans were firm." He sounded disappointed.
I remained silent. Let him stew in his own juice.
He cleared his throat. "Well, okay then, I suppose I'll wait to hear from you. I've made reservations for seven tomorrow evening. Can you text me and let me know if you can come?"
"I suppose I can but honestly, a friend of mine died yesterday. I'm sure you know him too. Sam Painter."
There was a long pause. "Yes. I knew Sam. It was a tragic accident I hear. On the ski slopes. I was sorry to hear it." Wendell’s response was automatic, his voice was stilted.
For some reason, this angered me. Wendell's message of condolence didn't ring true or honest in my opinion. Perhaps he was just angry or disappointed at me about dinner. "How well did you know Sam?"
There was a pause. Wendell’s voice was hesitant. "Well, I didn't know him that well. I mainly knew him because of his position on the board of supervisors and as chairman of the planning commission. We weren't really what you would call close friends."
I remained silent. I figured Sam and Wendell had probably had words on occasion.
"Nevertheless," Wendell said hurriedly, "I'm sorry for your loss."
"I had planned to spend some time tomorrow with Lowell and Sarah Bartlett. They're returning home from a vacation. If I'm available by seven, I'll text you and come with LauraLea." I paused and continued. "But I can't promise."
"Oh, Miss Lily," he gushed. "I do hope you can. I’ve planned a menu especially for you. Please tell the elder Painters I’m sorry for their son's accident."
"Accident? Are you positive it was an accident, Wendell?" My voice was sharp and abrasive. I could tell Wendell was surprised I’d asked that question. I could hear a quick intake of air on his end of the phone.
"Why, why I'm sure it was. That's what the news said last night. What else could it have been?" Wendell's voice sounded stressed.
I sighed. "I don't know. I suppose it was an accident. But, I can't understand what could've gone wrong. Sam was an excellent skier, an Olympian years ago. Massanutten slopes were like junior primary or kindergarten for him." I know my voice sounded exasperated and I was.
"I hear your frustration, Lily. I hope you'll be able to join us." Wendell's voice seemed impatient and he sounded short tempered. Or, of course it could be my imagination. "The Joshua Wilton house is one of my favorite places in town."
"I'll let you know as soon as I know.” My voice sounded strained. “Goodbye now, have a good evening," I said as I rushed off the phone. I pushed back my recliner and thought about our conversation. A couple of things resonated with me. The first one was why was I getting all this attention from the man who was one of the wealthiest developers in the Shenandoah Valley, and secondly, why did I mistrust him? I considered these options as the warm winter sunlight from my office window made my eyes heavy. Within a couple of minutes, I'd fallen asleep along with my four dogs. The room was a cacophony of snores. I awoke an hour later, awakened by the loud snoring of my dog Sophie. I shook my head and checked my watch. It was about 3 o'clock and I’d done nothing the entire day. Except of course, eat.
Chapter 14
Kenzie parked her car in the Ski Lodge parking lot. The winter sunshine was weak and very little snow had melted. The temperature was still deadly cold. She’d decided to go back to Massanutten Mountain and review the crime scene – if it was a crime scene. At this point in time, she was pretty sure it was. She wanted to ask a few questions.
She showed her identification to the Massanutten employee working the ski lift and hopped on, Solomon sat next to her. The slopes were moderately busy. She jumped off the lift at the top of the Diamond Jim and walked over to the ski patrol office. Each advanced slope had a first-aid station where the ski patrol hung out when they weren’t on the slopes. She walked over, opened the door and entered, Solomon next to her side. Parker Hendricks was on duty. He was a handsome thirty-something ski and snow boarding instructor. He lived in Northern Virginia where his firefighter position allowed him to work the Massanutten Ski Slopes in the winter. He smiled at her and greeted her warmly.
"Doctor Zimbro. How are you today? Is everything all right?" Parker’s smile was warm and genuine. His green eyes were filled with concern as he looked at her. He reached over and scratched Solomon’s ears.
Kenzie smiled at him. She'd known Parker for about eight years. “I'm fine. I just stopped by for a cup of coffee and to pick your brain. Then I might beg another ride downhill to where the accident happened yesterday.”
Parker smiled, his teeth white and strong. “None of that’s a problem, Kenzie. Happy to help with all of that.” He looked down at Solomon. Solomon stood still as Parker rubbed his ears and talked with him. "This is one great dog, Kenzie. If you need a dog sitter, I’m your guy. If I had a dog like him, I'd be just like you. I'd never leave him alone." Parker reached over to his desk and pulled out a package of beef jerky. "Is it okay if I give him a stick?"
Kenzie nodded and then laughed. "I hope you're not eating that stuff. You know it's full of bad things, right?"
Parker shook his head. "Not this jerky! This stuff is super-expensive I bought it at Martin's but honestly, I don't eat it. I bring it up here to feed the deer."
Kenzie's mouth fell open. Then she grinned ear to ear. "You gotta be kidding! You feed the deer? You know that's against the rules, right? Right?"
Parker rolled his eyes. Kenzie noticed what a good-looking dude he was. He was six feet plus with broad shoulders big brown eyes with eyelashes any woman would die for, and dirty blond hair. Simply put, he was a hunk. "I feed the deer all the time and I know you do, too. You know they're starving to death a lot of them. You can count their ribs."
Kenzie nodded. She really liked this guy. "Yeah, you're right. I feed them just about every day. As a matter-of-fact they come to my deck every morning. When I'm working in my basement office, they walk up to the sliding glass door. I keep food down there and upstairs on the main level."
Parker pointed his finger at her. "I knew it. I can always tell. All genuine animal lovers feed all the animals around here."
Kenzie nodded, but she didn't confess to feeding the bear who lived half of his life under her deck. At this very moment she knew he was sleeping under a tarp near the chimney of her chalet where a fire burned every day. She and Blackie the bear had an agreement. Neither of them bothered the other one and she fed him whenever she heard him up and about. In return, he didn’t eat her plants or disturb her trash.”
"I guess you heard
about yesterday, right?"
Parker nodded, a flash of dismay traveled across his face. "Yeah. I heard about it. A freak accident, right?"
Kenzie shook her head. "I guess so. So far, I haven't found anything to suggest otherwise."
Parker shook his head. "Man, I just don't get that. Sam Painter is the best skier I've ever known. He's the best guy I've ever seen go down any slope here." He scratched his head. “I just don't have any idea why he would've wrecked."
Kenzie nodded. "That's the same issue I have. I've skied with Sam dozens of times and he's the best skier I've ever seen." She paused. "Have you been down to where it happened?"
Parker nodded. "Yeah. I went down early today around nine or so. Right after I got here and heard about it." He shook his head. “We’ve got it marked with yellow tape. I didn’t go inside the tape and the resort didn’t groom the slope at all today. It’s technically closed.”
Kenzie nodded. "You see anything strange down there? Anything I could've missed?"
Parker shook his head. "Nope, not a thing. I'm sure you know Sam was the first and only skier on the Diamond Jim yesterday. He came in early, from what I heard, took the lift and came to the top."
Kenzie nodded. "Did you talk to anybody?"
Parker shrugged his shoulders. "Paul Turnage was on patrol last night. I asked him if anything seemed amiss yesterday and he said no."
I nodded. “The guy working the lift told me yesterday that Sam had complained about the sun being so bright that he’d covered his eyes with his hands, even though we had on goggles. I kinda find that strange."
Parker had a surprised look on his face. "That sounds pretty weird. It's not unlike the sun in January is intense, but I guess he could've had a headache or something and the bright sun and glare of the snow hurt his head."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Did Paul say if Sam complained of a headache?"
Parker shook his head. "Not to me. But I can send him a text. He's over at the firehouse near Keezletown."
