by Dale Mayer
“Do you know what caused it?”
“Wendy was talking about leaving,” she admitted. “Saying that she and Gabby were only here for the winter, and I just got really mad about it. I’d finally found somebody I really cared about, and she wouldn’t even give me a chance. She would just up and leave, like it was no big deal.”
“And I believe that conversation happened yesterday as well,” he said, looking directly at Wendy. “Isn’t that correct?”
Wendy looked at him, her eyes widening; then she looked hesitantly at Meghan. “Well, somewhat,” Wendy said, “I was talking to Gabby about what we were supposed to do when she was ready to leave.”
“So you’re still looking at leaving?” Meghan said in a hard voice.
“We don’t have anything settled between us,” Wendy said, “so, of course, I have to look at leaving. It’s not definite though.”
“Right,” she said with half a smile. “If we stay together, you’ll stay, but, if we aren’t, you’re leaving. Is that it?”
“Pretty much,” Wendy admitted. “Pretty much.”
“Do you really think your friend will let you stay here with me? After all, I’m such a danger to you.”
Damon again heard that same mocking tone and still didn’t like it. He was looking for signs of an abusive relationship, and he saw bits of controlling behavior. It was enough to make him concerned too. From experience, he had learned that he could only get somebody to change so much or to even see the truth in another person. None of this would change until Wendy herself put a stop to it. And he waited for anything to explode the tenuous relationship between Meghan and Wendy.
Wendy’s shoulders sagged, and she said, “You know perfectly well I can’t afford to stay in Aspen,” she said. “I have almost wiped out the financial nest egg I had before I arrived, and it hasn’t been easy.”
“That’s not my fault,” Meghan said. “I have a good job here. I’ve always pulled my own weight.”
“Meaning, I haven’t?” Wendy’s smile slipped. “And you’re right. I haven’t,” she said. “I’m not sure what the problem is in this town, but I’ve been blacklisted.”
“You got on the wrong side of somebody,” Meghan said, “but I’m sure you could find other jobs.”
“And you’re right, but I guess my self-confidence took a big hit, and I just never really pulled myself back up again,” she said.
“So you have to make a decision about what you want to do,” Meghan said quietly. “And I would prefer it if you would make that decision sooner rather than later. It’s a little hard on me to sit around and to wait, while you decide whether you’re leaving with your friend,” she said, “or staying here with me.”
“You haven’t even asked me to stay,” Wendy said.
“Nor have you said you wanted to,” Meghan replied.
At that, Damon realized he’d had enough. He stood and said, “You two work out your relationship on your own time, please,” he said. “What I really need is a list of anybody who would know where you lived and would possibly have anything against the two women who were killed.”
“I have no clue,” Wendy said. “Honestly I spent most of my time with Meghan, and I just didn’t tell Gabby.”
“Is that why you have no money?”
“She can’t blame me for that,” Meghan said.
“And yet I should,” Wendy said, “at least for some of it. How many times did you tell me not to go to work so I could stay here with you because it was your day off?”
Meghan had the grace to flush at least. “Well, I didn’t know you were that bad off,” she said.
“I lost my job because of it,” Wendy replied.
“Well, not really,” she said. “You lost your job for a lot of other reasons too.”
“Maybe, but it’s been a struggle to find something else.”
“And like you said,” Meghan reminded her, “your self-confidence took a hit, so I don’t know how much you’ve even been trying.”
At that, Damon held up his hand. “And again, stop, please. You can have that conversation on your own time.”
Meghan rounded on him. “This is our time,” she said. “We have no answers for you. Go do your job, and find your killer. You’ll have to get your clues somewhere else.”
And, with that, Damon was dismissed. He stopped and glared at her for a long moment and said, “Interesting that you want to obstruct justice.”
“I’m obstructing nothing,” she said with a snort. “But I do know my rights. You’ve asked questions, and we gave you answers. Now be gone with you. Otherwise I’ll call my lawyer about police harassment.”
Rather than sit here and argue with her, he nodded and said, “Have it your way.” And as he walked out, he sent one final shot. “While you’re patting yourself on the back for throwing us out, you might remember that two of Wendy’s friends are dead now. She could be next.” And he closed the door hard behind him.
It was a low blow, but, at this point in time, he really didn’t care. Meghan’s attitude was beyond grating and irritating as hell. If Wendy wanted that for her life, then she was already nicely settled in for it. But it wasn’t his idea of a good relationship at all. And he could see how Gabby would have chewed away at the restraints holding her back from saying anything. But it also wasn’t his job to help Wendy get out of a situation she obviously didn’t want out of.
If she’d asked for help, for an escort or even a ride to get away, that was a different story, but she hadn’t. She remained there with Meghan 100 percent, and that then meant it was Wendy’s own problem. He just hoped that it didn’t become a police case and end up being his problem.
As for Meghan being the guilty party, he wasn’t about to write her off the list. She was aggressive, bitter, and strong enough to have done the job. She also had the motivation and the opportunity.
As far as he was concerned, she topped the damn list.
Chapter Eight
When she woke the next morning, Gabby was turned inside out. She’d slept somehow, but it seemed impossible to sleep when her friends were being killed. Yet she couldn’t do anything to stop the murders either. She dragged herself out of bed, had a hot shower, and got dressed. She didn’t have the healthy bank account that Wendy had had when first coming to Aspen, but Gabby had always worked to earn her own way. But she was still bemused that Wendy could have gone through all that money so fast. She’d easily had a year’s worth of living expenses saved. At least Gabby thought so. But now she wondered if she really knew anything about her best friend.
Still thinking on this, Gabby walked to the kitchen and scrounged through the food Damon had left behind. She put on toast and a couple fried eggs. As soon as she’d finished eating, she bundled herself up and stepped outside and prepared to go to work. She didn’t have a vehicle and had walked or taken public transit everywhere since she’d come Aspen. She was a little farther away from the bookstore this time.
Actually she was quite a bit farther away, and that was poor planning on her part. She hadn’t taken that into account when deciding her departure time for work today. Setting out at a brisk walk, she quickly texted her boss and said that she might be a bit late, but she was on her way. He would get mad when she was late, but, if she showed up, he would be happy to see her, though he’d never show it.
A text came back almost immediately, saying, Don’t bother coming in.
Instead of texting him, she dialed his number. “What do you mean, don’t come in?” she said. “I’m over halfway there. What are you talking about?”
He stopped and said, “People are talking.”
“Talking about what?”
“Your dead friends.”
She groaned. “And that’s my fault?”
“No.” He paused a moment, then added, “The detective stopped by at closing two nights ago, looking for you.”
“He found me at my apartment.”
Jerry appeared to be thinking about it and said, “Fin
e, but, if the customers don’t like it, I’ll have to lay you off.”
She felt a darkness inside her at that thought, knowing that then she would really be screwed. “Please don’t do that,” she said desperately. “You know I need this job.”
“And I need business at the bookstore too,” he said, “and I can’t have somebody working here who’s suspected of murder.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she said. “I’m not on the suspect list. You can talk to the detective and confirm that.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she said. “It’s not me. These were my friends. I wouldn’t do that!”
“Well, somebody is doing that,” he said. “How can anybody be sure who is guilty and who isn’t?”
She took a long slow breath. “Please don’t fire me or lay me off,” she said. “I need this job, and I can only tell you—in as sincere a way as possible—that I had nothing to do with it. They were my friends. I can only hope that the police will get a break in the case and will find out who did this.”
She continued talking to him as she walked, keeping him on the phone until she could see him in person. Or at least tried to. He hung up on her before she made the final block to the bookstore. He generally was easy to talk to and had been more than fair in his dealings with her. But she also knew that the bookstore was his lifeblood, and it must be hard enough to make a living with what she feared was the cost of the lease on the place. She wasn’t sure if owning the place was any better cost-wise in Aspen.
She’d often suggested that he move to a new location, but it would be a lot of work, and he didn’t sound like he was up for it. She could hardly blame him, as it would be a ton of work. She loved the bookstore, and something like that would be exactly what she’d like to have for herself someday.
Her adoptive parents had had no plan to send Gabby to college, so she had worked for years, saved up her money, then still attended college during the day while working nights and weekends to support herself. She was older than most college kids, but she got some small business training, just hadn’t had a chance to really apply it. She’d stuck with the same call center job she’d had all through college and had taken this Aspen trip as her celebratory break after finishing up her program, before starting a full-time job.
Working at the bookstore had been a perfect opportunity because it had allowed her to see firsthand just what her training could do with something like this. But unfortunately Jerry wasn’t interested in applying anything that she’d learned. She could hardly blame him, when it seemed like everything she’d done had gone sideways instead of upward. But to blame her for the murders was not fair at all.
The bookstore loomed up ahead. The weather was decent, and a few people were out on the streets, but it was still early, and anybody who was anybody living in Aspen would be up on the mountain today. Fresh powder was everywhere.
She stared wistfully up at the white-capped mountains around her, wishing she could go, but her board had been damaged, and she still didn’t know if it would be possible to salvage it. She might not even get any more snowboarding in this season. She wondered if Wendy was using her board and how she’d feel about letting Gabby use it, since Wendy had only been skiing so far this year. But that didn’t mean she’d want Gabby to have her board. It would make life a whole lot easier for Gabby, as Wendy well knew, but their relationship was a whole different story right now with Meghan in the mix.
Gabby rushed toward the bookstore, and, when she threw open the door and stepped inside, several customers were here, and they all looked up at her. She recognized one and waved a hand. “Hi, Reggie. How are you doing?”
“There you are,” he said. “I came in early to see if you could help me find a couple books.”
“Absolutely,” she said, in a bright, cheerful voice and stepped forward to help him. If nothing else, she would make herself useful enough, and maybe she could keep this job after all. A few hours later she had a chance to lift her head from the steady stream of work she’d been at the whole time, finding her boss standing there, staring at her.
“So, what’s the verdict?” she asked with a fatalistic attitude.
He shrugged. “Nobody seemed to care today.”
“Why would they?” she asked gently. “I’m not strong enough to do what they did to the victims. I’m not on the suspect list. If anything, people should probably sympathize that I have been through a horrible ordeal.”
“The trouble with any crime like this is,” he said, “that we’re up against people who don’t always think logically,” he said. “And I can’t have any added stigma over my store.”
She took a slow deep breath. “So why don’t we take it day by day?” she asked.
He thought about it and then nodded. “We can do that,” he said. “I really need somebody here. I just wish you didn’t come with all this baggage.”
“It’s not baggage that I would have wanted,” she said, “and I’m sorry. But I’m sorrier for my friends who are no longer here.”
He nodded at that. “Good point. You want to start unpacking those boxes?” he asked. “We had a big freight order come in this morning, and I know some of them are special orders.”
“I got it,” she said and immediately set to work. Around lunchtime she heard the doorbell ring. She turned with a bright smile, determined to make the most of every opportunity on the job while she had it. The detective walked toward her. She immediately frowned and joined him. “Please stop coming here. I almost lost my job this morning.”
He looked at her in surprise, then looked around at the place and said, “I’m the only customer at the moment.”
“I know, but that’s got nothing to do with it. Jerry seems to think I’m bringing in bad energy or the bookstore will get a bad reputation for having hired somebody on the suspect list.”
“Which you are not,” he said.
“And I told him that, but then he said it didn’t really matter and that people would interpret my presence here in a lot of different ways, but none of them would be positive.”
“And that might be quite correct,” he said thoughtfully. “Anyway I came for a book.”
She stared at him in surprise.
“Seriously,” he said with a nod. “I do read, you know?”
“Sorry.” She flushed at the thought. “That was very rude of me. What book are you looking for?” she asked, returning to business mode.
“The book you mentioned on the dark history of Aspen.”
“Ah,” she said, “we’ve actually had a run on that. Jerry didn’t want to but brought in a few copies.” She headed to the other side of the bookstore. “Okay,” she said. “This is them.” And she pointed to the last two copies.
He shook his head. “I can talk to him, if you want,” he said quietly.
She looked at him gratefully. “I hate to even ask, but, yes, if you could at least reassure him a little bit. I really need this job.”
She felt his gaze as he studied her for a long moment; then he nodded slowly. “Where is he?”
“He’s in the back,” she said.
Damon snagged one of the books and said, “You want to ring this up for me? Meanwhile, I’ll go talk to him.”
“He’s likely to have a heart attack when he sees you as it is,” she said.
“Is he that worried?”
“His health is not good,” she said quietly, “and this is his main source of income.”
“And yet, depending on what his rent is here, he could do much better at a different location.”
“I’ve mentioned that,” she said, “and gotten mixed messages. I’m not sure about this, but I’m beginning to wonder if he owns the land or something.”
“If that’s the case, if he owns the property, he should have more control over expenses and can always sell to get a cheaper place elsewhere.”
“Well, we don’t have a whole lot of business,” she said quietly. She rang up the purch
ase for him, and, as he looked at the thirty-two dollar total, he nodded. “That could be one of the reasons.”
“It’s the book publisher’s pricing,” she said. “It’s not our pricing.” And she pointed to the back cover, where the barcode was.
He shook his head. “I don’t have time to read much for fun, but, when I do, it’s more the epic fantasy type stories,” he said, “and they’re generally half this price.”
“True,” she said. “And we have a bunch of those here too, if you’re interested,” she said with a bright clerk-ish smile.
He rolled his eyes at her. “I get you’re trying to work the system to keep your job,” he said, “but I came in for something, and I got it, so thanks.”
Her smile fell away, and she nodded. He looked up to see something behind her shoulder. She turned and gave her boss a bright smile. “Hey,” she said, “he came in to pick up one of those books on the dark history.”
Her boss looked at the book and shuddered. “Why is everybody so obsessed with all that stuff?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Damon said, “but I appreciate Gabby here giving me the heads-up on it.”
“She should be trying to sell other books,” he said fretfully, “not advertising the kind of stuff that brings the wrong kind of clients in.”
“I’m not the wrong kind of client,” Damon said quietly. “And she’s doing a good job here.”
“But for how long? I really can’t afford any negative publicity.”
“I get that, and I don’t know if it’ll reassure you or not, but Gabby is not a suspect.”
Jerry looked at him seriously. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes, of course I mean that,” he said, sounding surprised.
Her boss took a long moment. “I see,” he said. “Well, the sooner you solve it, the better.”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said. “I’m all for solving it fast. We just need to have a better rundown on possible suspects.”
At that, her boss looked at Gabby. “Surely you can help with that, can’t you?”
“I’ve helped all I can,” she admitted. “If I could do something else, I would.”
