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

by Judith Lucci

  "Fifty thousand ain't bad." Ty’s eyes lit up with excitement. "What do we gotta do? Are we gonna be working with the Shenandoah boys? I saw Roy and Tebo this morning. They shoved poison or something in some dude’s coffee at the Woodstone coffee place."

  Hamn's shook his head. “Nah. I don’t know what them boys are up to, but it can’t be good. I doan trust none of them,” Hamn said as he stared at Ty. “You best stay away from them, old-timer. A couple of them is mental cases.”

  Ty nodded but was then consumed in a fit of coughing. Hamn looked at him and shook his head. “Man, you need a doctor.”

  Ty nodded in agreement. Peewee waited for the old man to cough up his lungs. It was that bad.

  Hamn’s eyes rested on Peewee. "What you think, little man? You in? For the $50,000 job?"

  Peewee shuffled his feet. "Guess so, ‘pends, I reckon. What is it?"

  Ty turned to him and glared. "What you mean it depends. You're in the Hillbilly Mob now. You do what the boss says." He snarled at Peewee and started a new bout of coughing. Peewee moved back to escape Ty’s germs.

  Hamn smiled. "Now boys, stop your arguing. We got work to do."

  Ty and Peewee watched as Hamn pulled a copy of the local newspaper out of his jacket.

  "What’s that for, Hamn? For God sakes, what's the job? I'm about to freeze in here," Ty whined, his voice angry and confused. “I looked at the paper today.”

  Hamn glanced at the old man. "Shut up and I'll tell you," he snarled. He riffled through the paper until he found what he was looking for. He held it up and shined his flashlight on it in the dark of the cave. It was a picture of a man.

  "We’re gonna do this," he said as he pointed to a picture. "For a slick fifty G’s." Then Hamn presented to slice his throat with his index finger. “We’re gonna kill this newspaper reporter.”

  Peewee’s eyes were huge. "You gotta be kidding me, man. That's big time." Peewee grasped the rock for support. Murder wasn’t something he’d signed on for with the mob. “I doan wanna kill nobody.” His voice sounded like a croak.

  Hamn nodded slowly. ""Yeah. It’s big time. That's why we're getting the big money." He studied Peewee's face. "If you’re not wantin’ in, I'll call Jessie." Peewee noticed the angry look on Hamn’s face. His eyes were murderous.

  "No. That's okay. What's the plan? Fill me in," the younger man said as a feeling of dread set like a log in his stomach. For a moment, he thought he would be sick.

  Chapter 19

  Lily watched as her dogs raced to the back door to welcome Rosemary. She watched as her old friend jumped out of her vehicle and made her way up the cleared path in her driveway. The path was surrounded by patches of ice and snow. Seconds later Lily opened the back door.

  A tall woman with jeans and a sweatshirt stood in my garage. She had brown eyes, highlighted hair and a huge smile on her face. She also had a bottle of wine in her hand. "Lily! You look great.” Her eyes searched my face.

  “So do you, Rosemary,” I said as I handed her a glass of cabernet sauvignon and ushered her into the living room. As soon as she sat down my four dogs tried to get into her lap. I apologized profusely.

  "Just ignore them and they'll leave you alone," I promised her. "Or, better still, just push them down on the floor."

  Peals of laughter came from Rosemary. "Are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had for weeks. Your dogs are the very best."

  I watched as she hugged and scratched each of them. They looked up at her with adoring eyes. As soon as she had shown each one of them their due amount of attention they walked over to their beds near the fireplace and went to sleep.

  I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, it looks like you wore them out. Although, they do take lots of naps every day."

  Rosemary smiled and sipped her wine. "You know, I need to get myself a couple of dogs. They are so much company and I could use the companionship." Rosemary's voice was sad “I get pretty lonely these days.”

  "It's been a couple of years since you lost Clyde, hasn't it?" I knew how painful the loss of her beloved boxer dog had been for Rosemary.

  She nodded. "Yeah. It'll be two years in March. I kept thinking I wanted to be independent and free so I could travel," she smiled. "But I haven't gone anywhere for ages."

  I nodded. "Well, I've got a great list of dog sitters I'm happy to share. The way I see it, you’re home a lot more than you travel. So, I will continue to have dogs. My sitters are great. My dogs interview them first.”

  Rosemary snickered. "What did you do? Run a criminal check on each of them?"

  I laughed. "Pretty much. You know I'm kind of fanatical about my animals."

  Rosemary rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows that about you, Lily. But, I think I will get myself a dog. Do you have any recommendations?"

  My smile couldn’t have been bigger or happier. "I'd recommend a rescue animal, of course. I’d check with Anicara and the SPCA. Even though our SPCA is a kill shelter, I believe they do everything they can for an animal for as long as they can. The second thing I’d do is adopt a senior dog."

  Rosemary's eyes lit up. "Ah, an older dog! I hadn't thought about that! That's a wonderful idea and then I won't have to go through housebreaking and training and all of that stuff."

  “Yeah, nor will you have to wait for them to outgrow their puppy behaviors and settle down. That's a huge bonus in my opinion, at least it is at this point in my life." I gave her an encouraging smile.

  Rosemary nodded. "I'm right behind you, Lily. Let's go find me a dog next week, what do you say?"

  "I'm in. Just name the day and I'll be there." I loved to go help my friends pick out dogs and other pets. Everyone knows I'm a huge animal person.

  Rosemary nodded. "Isn't it tragic about Sam Painter. I can hardly believe it. He was in my office just last week."

  I nodded. "It's terrible. Just awful. I'm going to see his parents in the morning. They’re due back from their cruise late tonight. I'm sure their hearts are broken."

  "They're good people. The Painters are good people. My family has known them for years. Lots of people will miss Sam. He's been the only sane and thoughtful planning commission member we’ve elected in recent years."

  "I'm sure of that," I declared. "Sam was always a voice of caution and reason in this community."

  Rosemary’s eyebrows shot up. "That he was, although he did have some enemies. There's no question about that."

  I picked up my cabernet. "It was delicious and was from a nearby local vineyard. I always supported the local vineyards whenever I could. I studied the wine’s color. “Who were his worst enemies?"

  "Your buddy for one! Wendell Hallet couldn't stand Sam Painter. I don't think they ever agreed on anything at all." Rosemary swirled the wine in her glass. "This has a nice bouquet."

  "Yeah it does. It's got a good nose as well. I like this vintage." I watched as Rosemary took a sip of her wine and smiled. "What were their main disagreements?"

  Rosemary shrugged her shoulders. "The usual. Wendell just wanted to develop land, both for commercial use and residential use and he didn't want to follow the rules." She shook her head. "Just between the two of us, Lily, he's a pain in my tail."

  I raised my eyebrows. "Really, somehow I suspected that," I said with a grin.

  Rosemary smiled. "I figured you knew that. Hopefully others aren't as good in picking up my true feelings. Wendell is one of these filthy rich guys that just doesn't want to play fair or follow the rules. He wants to develop land as quickly and as cheaply as possible. He has no respect for our natural resources or wetlands. His way is to bring in the heavy-duty equipment and the excavators and wipe everything out." An angry flush passed across Rosemary’s face.

  I nodded my head. "I kind of figured that. Wasn't he the guy that wanted to dig up that family burial ground in order to build a park?"

  "Oh my goodness, do you remember that? It was a few years ago. The Hansen family had donated fifty acres of land off Route 33 for a park which the planning
office approved. Unfortunately, there was a family cemetery on the property that no one realized was there. As best we could ascertain, the gravestones dated back to the 1780s. And that madman just wanted to desecrate the graves, just dig them out." Rosemary paused for breath. "It was a huge stink, but finally we won."

  "I remember. Thank goodness. What else was Wendell upset with Sam about?"

  Rosemary took a deep breath. "A better question would be what wasn't Wendell upset about where Sam Painter was part of the project."

  I grinned at her. "Was it really as bad as that?"

  Rosemary nodded emphatically. "It absolutely was. Sam was an albatross in Wendell's mind. Wendell described him as an environmental tree hugging obstructionist. The blood between them was very bad." She shook her head. “Unfortunately, without Sam, Wendell will probably have free rein. He’ll get everything he wants.” Rosemary grimaced as she considered how things would be.

  "You know, I saw that article that investigative journalist wrote about Wendell Hallet. He didn't cut him any slack either." I grinned. “I think I would rather like the guy.”

  "You're right," Rosemary agreed as she picked up a piece of cheese. His name is Jeremy Futrell and he's young, smart and idealistic."

  I was interested. "Oh, do you know him well?"

  Rosemary nodded. "Yeah. I do. He graduated from VCU with a degree in journalism. He interned with me at the planning office for one semester."

  "Where is he from?" It didn’t make any difference. I was just curious.

  "He's from Richmond. His father is a professor at VCU. I like Jeremy a lot, but I’ve encouraged him to tone down his rhetoric. He's made a bunch of people angry."

  I leaned forward my elbow on my knee. "Angry? How?"

  Rosemary shrugged her shoulders and her eyes took on a distant look. "Kind of like we did when we were young, Lily. We were young idealists who wanted to change the world. Jeremy is cut from the same cloth only the world these days is a lot more dangerous – and information gets out a lot quicker."

  I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant. Back in our days, we might get arrested at a protest march, but it was unlikely the whole world would see us on the Internet or a video that went viral. "You're right, and he does write a lot of very unflattering articles about Wendell Hallet and his ‘Mafia’ Charlottesville lawyer."

  Rosemary burst out laughing. "That's a perfect description of Henry Hamilton. He does look like a Mafia lawyer. But, as far as I know, his law firm is on the up and up."

  I stood and walked over to refill Rosemary's wineglass. The timer on my oven buzzed. "Okay, we can eat. I hope you're up for leftover pot roast and broccoli."

  “No complaints here," Rosemary assured me as she followed me into the kitchen.

  A couple of minutes later we sat in the dining room and ate by candlelight. It was and is a beautiful room.

  "This roast is delicious. So is everything else. You're the best cook, Lily. This is much better than anything we could've gotten at the country club."

  "Thanks. But they've got pretty good stuff now. LauraLea and I eat there at least once a week, sometimes more often."

  The pot roast was so tender I could cut it with my fork. "Is there anything specific you can tell me about Wendell and Sam? Any specific arguments they've had?"

  For a moment Rosemary studied her creamed potatoes. "It's pretty much what we talked about. Sam and his connections have stopped Wendell’s projects a number of times. In fact, they’ve cost him lots of money."

  I laid my fork down. "Really, a lot of money?" My heart rate picked up and a quiver ran up my spine.

  Rosemary nodded her head. "Oh yes, probably an easy million dollars this year, possibly more."

  I looked into her eyes. "Now, that's a lot of money. What happened?"

  Rosemary shrugged her shoulders. "It’s the same old, same old. What happened is Wendell couldn't get a majority vote to move forward on his Massanutten project. Sam worked hard against him and blocked the vote. Sam had a lot of friends on the planning commission."

  I laid my fork on the table and looked into Rosemary's eyes. "That's strange! Wendell told me, and LauraLea for that matter, that the Massanutten expansion and the shopping center at the bottom of the mountain were a done deal. He even offered LauraLea a free space in the shopping center for the gallery." It was all I could do to control my body language. “I had no idea the project hadn't passed.”

  Rosemary flipped her hair back with her hand. "Well, he probably will get it now. A couple of the planning commission members will probably change their vote without Sam to control them. Wendell will strong arm them." Her face had a disgusted look.

  "Why was it defeated at the last meeting?" I pushed my roast beef around on my plate and had a mouth full of creamed potatoes.

  Sam insisted the site plan be redone and a section of condominiums be moved a greater distance from the local mountain springs that converge at that part of the mountain. He maintained the construction, and ultimately the development, would damage the groundwater." Rosemary paused and ate a bite of broccoli. "I agreed with him. That population density would damage the natural beauty and water resources in that area."

  I sat still as a mouse as I digested this information. "What did that mean or does that mean to Wendell Hallet?"

  "It means he has to resubmit another site plan and buy additional land on the mountain to move the second section of condos. It's gonna cost him a lot of money."

  My head exploded with a dozen possibilities. I lost my appetite and put down my fork. "So, how much is that gonna cost Wendell, and ultimately Henry Hamilton whose a huge investor in Wendell's development firm. Can you give me a dollar amount?"

  Rosemary took a deep breath. I watched her shoulders rise and fall. "I don't know for sure, but I would imagine several million dollars – in additional to the other million it’s already cost. It'll take Wendell six or eight months to get the new site plan and topo maps designed and submitted. That will put construction back at least a year, so if you figure it'll take an extra eighteen months to get the condominiums ready for occupancy, it'll probably be at least that much, if not longer.

  I shook my head but remained quiet. That was a lot of money and certainly worth killing for.

  Rosemary continued. "I can assure you Wendell was furious when this happened a couple of weeks ago. Several of my office staff heard him comment that Sam Painter would never block him again from the project that the community needed - that would help increase the tax base of the county and provide a much-needed boost to the Valley economy."

  I felt a head rush. Wendell sounded more and more like a murderer. "Do you think the people that overheard Wendell's remarks about Sam would speak to local law enforcement?"

  Rosemary’s pupils dilated and her response was slow. "Sure, I don't see why not. It was the buzz around the office for couple of days. I didn't hear it myself, but it's possible that Jeremy Futrell, the investigative reporter heard it. He was at the planning commission meeting."

  I knew I needed to talk with Jeremy as soon as possible. "Would you ask your staff members if they’d talk to Investigator Benson tomorrow? He's the chief investigator for medical examiner Dr. Kenzie Zimbro."

  I saw Rosemary's body twitch from across the table. Her eyes were pools of liquid brown. "Lily, Lily... Do you think Sam’s death was murder?"

  I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "I don't know, Rosemary. But I do know that Dr. Kenzie Zimbro, the medical examiner, is suspicious. She and her husband were good friends with Sam and his wife. She doesn't understand how a former member of the US Olympic skiing team could have an accident on a slope like the Diamond Jim on Massanutten."

  Silence permeated the room. Rosemary didn’t speak but pondered my words.

  My blue eyes held Rosemary’s brown ones for a full minute as she considered the possibility that Sam’s death was a crime.

  "Holy crap, Lily. This is horrible, just horrible. Is there evidence to substantiate this?"<
br />
  I shook my head. "Not that I know of, but there're a lot of people who are suspicious. Benson will most likely do the interview with your staff, but Kenzie may want to speak with you. Would you do that?"

  Rosemary nodded her head slowly. "Of course, I will. Everything I've told you about is on the record. Plus, Jeremy Futrell wrote about potential threats in the newspaper." She took a deep breath. "Sure, I'll be glad to talk to Dr. Zimbro. I know she's your friend.”

  I nodded. "Thanks, Rosemary. Would you give me Jeremy’s contact information? He may be a person Kenzie or Benson might like to speak with."

  Rosemary didn't respond immediately so I asked the question again.

  "Of course. I have Jeremy’s information in my phone." She paused for a moment and looked across the table at me. "I know Wendell Hallet is a greedy, pompous, unethical developer, but I never figured him for murder."

  I nodded and shrugged my shoulders. "We don't know if he is. But, if someone had cost me several million dollars over the past few years and it looked like that trend would continue, I'd consider getting them out of my way, wouldn't you?"

  Rosemary nodded and pushed food around her plate. “I suppose...” Her voice was tentative.

  I decided to change the subject. "Guess what! I made us a chocolate fudge pie for dessert," I said proudly.

  Rosemary’s smile was strained. "Good. I'm so stressed, I may eat the entire pie."

  "That’d be okay," I promised as I took her plate into the kitchen and returned with the pie and my coffee pot.

  Chapter 20

  The next morning, I got up early and went to the gallery. I wanted to help LauraLea hang some pictures that had come in the day before. I'd also agreed to help her with her acrylic pour class, mainly because she had a ton of students.

  I don't know if many of you have done an acrylic pour, but it’s a cool way to create unforgettable abstract art. There are dozens of ways to do it, but we keep it simple in the class and generally do a dirty pour.