“I need to find out if someone who works here sold a pair of suspenders to a member of the Ericksen family. You know … the red ones with ‘Yellowstone’ written on them,” she added when Dillon looked blank.
“No, we think they must have been snatched,” one of the young men she hadn’t met answered.
Now it was Susan’s turn to look blank.
“We talked about it—you’re wondering about the suspenders on the dummy, aren’t you?”
Susan nodded.
“Well, Dillon noticed that they were the kind we sell here right away.…”
Now it was Dillon’s turn to nod.
“And we all talked about it, and no one—that is, no one who works here—remembers selling suspenders like that to anyone in the family. We figure that leaves three possibilities.…”
“Which are?” Susan asked.
“Well, ma’am, they could have been brought into the park by someone who was here before, they could have been bought by someone that someone in the Ericksen family asked to purchase them, or they could have been stolen.”
“Stolen?”
“We don’t have a lot of theft up here, but we do have some.”
“Is there an inventory kept of the merchandise in the store?” Susan asked.
“Not for things like that. For skis and expensive parkas, sure, but things like those suspenders are counted under miscellaneous.”
“So there’s no way to track down where that particular pair of suspenders came from,” Susan concluded.
“No way at all,” Dillon agreed, shrugging. “Anything else we can do for you?”
“No, thanks,” Susan answered, as someone knocked on the door.
“Maybe that’s news of our lost tourists.” Dillon leapt up and opened it.
Marnie Mackay entered the room, shaking snow on them all as she pulled off her ski cap.
“Disgusting night,” she commented cheerfully. “You’ll be glad to hear that our happy wanderers have returned—and not a frostbitten toe, nose, or earlobe among them.”
“Then we can switch to this,” Dillon announced, pulling a bottle of Jim Beam from behind the counter.
“Don’t even think about it. The storm shows no sign of letting up, and I need everyone to be on their toes. Besides, I’ve put you down for the midnight-to-six-a.m. shift—guard duty. You did volunteer, you know.”
“Only because he thought you were going to be there with him,” one of the other young men suggested.
“I am. As well as two other rangers.” Marnie smiled. “Too bad it’s too cold to play strip poker.”
“I always thought the Visitor’s Center was a little warm myself,” Dillon insisted, causing loud laughter.
Marnie grinned and sat down next to Susan. “He seems a little more cheerful for some reason,” she said. They both knew who she was speaking about. “I heard about the sweater. I suppose it means something?”
“It means that someone wanted us all to think Randy had left the park when he was, in fact, still here. At least, I think that’s what it means. You see, Randy and Darcy left New York City the day before my family did. They flew straight to Wyoming, spent the night in Jackson Hole, and took the morning snowcoach here.”
“So?”
“So there was no reason for him to wash and dry all his sweaters less than twenty-four hours later,” Susan ended.
“Meaning?” Dillon looked mystified.
“Well, I’m not completely sure, but I think it means that the person who killed Randy wanted it to look like he had packed up and left Snow Lodge. So all his clothing was taken from the room he shared with Darcy and put in the one place where we’re all accustomed to seeing piles of clothing—the laundry room. When I was there in the middle of the night”—the young men looked a little startled by this description of her nocturnal activities—“the clothing had been run through the dryer. I took them out and folded them myself the next day—I’m a little compulsive about housework, I guess,” she added, sheepishly.
“And, in fact, Darcy did think that Randy had left the park, didn’t he?” Marnie said.
“But what difference did it make?” Dillon asked.
“What would you have done if Randy disappeared and you hadn’t thought that he had left the park?” Susan asked.
“Just what we were going to do tonight,” the ski instructor answered. “We would have conducted a search.”
“And you might have found the body,” Susan suggested. “And whoever killed him didn’t want that to happen.”
“But why?” Marnie asked. “We’ve found the body now, but that hasn’t really led us any closer to the killer, has it?”
“I think it has,” Susan said, enjoying the moment. “You see, you found the body under the sign that says ice cream—over near the track that we all practiced our skiing on after our lesson, right?”
Marnie nodded.
“Well, I skied into that … that body,” she explained, a little less confidently. “And George Ericksen was there. And that must have been right after Randy was killed.”
“I see …” Marnie began.
“I don’t,” their ski instructor disagreed. “You’re saying that he was killed near the parking lot—that’s what’s underneath all that snow—and right after the ski lesson, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Exactly,” Susan agreed. It was all coming together.
“But that’s not possible,” the young man disagreed. “You see, I was with Randy after the lesson. We met in the bar over at the lodge. We had a cup of coffee together.”
THIRTY-NINE
“I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but he was very much alive when I talked to him. He had some sort of surprise that he was planning for his lover—the guy that you’re holding for murdering his grandfather—and he was happy as a clam,” the ski instructor explained.
“But where … ? What … ?” Susan was so surprised by this revelation that she didn’t even know what to ask.
“I guess he was killed pretty soon after he left the lodge, though,” the young man continued. “That’s what the doctor who examined him said, isn’t it? That he was killed before the old man?”
“True,” Marnie agreed. “What time did he leave you?”
“Well, let’s see. The lesson usually runs from nine till eleven or so, and I went straight to the dining room.… We only had a cup of coffee apiece—he said he had to do something.…”
“What was that?” Susan asked. “You mentioned a surprise.”
“That was when we were having coffee. He said something about having big plans, plans that would really make Darcy happy. But I don’t know if that’s what he was going to do after he left the lodge. I don’t know what he was going to do then. We paid the bill and got up from the table, and he said something vague, like ‘Well, I have things to do,’ or ‘I better get going,’ or maybe he said something about meeting someone—that’s all I remember.”
“But he didn’t say who he was going to meet or what they were going to do?” Susan persisted.
“No. And it might have just been one of those vague, polite things that people say when they split up. You know?”
Susan nodded. “Do you have any idea where he went after he left the dining room?”
“None. I didn’t even see him go through the door. I went out the back way, through the kitchen. The girl I’m living with was back there making up sandwiches for the lunch crowd.…”
“Did you see him again?”
“Not that day. Not that I remember. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen him since that time in the restaurant.”
Susan was silent, thinking of all the possible places where Randy might have gone. And wondering if he had gone to one of them with the person who was to be his murderer.
Dillon spoke up. “You know, I may have seen Randy after that—after you had coffee.”
“Where? Was he alone?” Susan jumped on the information.
“Now wait, I’m not sure about the timing of
all this. I don’t want to confuse everything here. And I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Especially an innocent person.”
“Don’t worry. Just tell me!” Susan insisted.
“Well, I think this must have been right after Randy left you.” He nodded to the other man. “I was scheduled to drive the afternoon snow bus out of the park, and the bus was parked in front of the lodge. I was standing on top, trying to readjust some of the carrier cords that had loosened up the day before, when I noticed that Mrs. Ericksen was standing on the front steps, watching me.”
“Did she say anything to you? Or did you say anything to her?” Susan asked.
“Nope. But I’m sure it was her. She’d been around the lodge for a few days, and with her husband, she sort of stands out in a group, you know. Well, I kept working and I noticed that she was looking at her watch every few minutes—not really nervous, but sort of impatient like. And then Randy came out the door, and the two of them put on their skis and took off together.”
“Did they say anything?”
“Yes, but I had the motor of the coach on—trying to warm her up—so I couldn’t hear.…”
“Did she smile or seem happy to see him?”
Dillon paused for a moment. “If I had to answer that question, I’d say she seemed in a hurry to get going, but that’s just an impression I got, and it may have been nothing. I was working and not paying that much attention, after all.…”
“In what direction?”
“Toward Old Faithful,” Dillon answered, correctly interpreting her question.
“Fast?” The ski instructor spoke up.
“Sure were, come to think of it. That old lad—Mrs. Ericksen is a real quick skier, and he kept right up with her.”
The instructor asked another question. “Not much like a novice skier, was he?”
“Are you saying … ?” Susan was startled.
“Exactly what you think I’m saying. That ski lesson was not Randy’s first time on skis—not by a long shot.”
“You’re sure?” This from Marnie.
“Absolutely. I noticed it right away during the lesson. He had no trouble standing, skiing, or anything. In fact, I think at first he had some trouble falling down. You know, pretending to fall down. But after a while he just stopped trying. Everyone falls so much and feels so awkward their first time out that there isn’t a lot of noticing what anyone else is doing.”
“But—”
“Although actually, come to think of it, Darcy did see how well his friend was doing. He made some sort of comment about it, and Randy just laughed. But he did give me a guilty look over his shoulder. I think he knew that I knew he was faking it.”
“And he seemed guilty?”
“Not really. When I said a guilty look, I meant that kind of … well, casually. Like he was playing a joke on someone, not trying to deceive for any serious reason. You know?”
“I know what you mean,” Susan agreed.
“You think it’s significant?”
“Who knows? Is there any way for you to guess whether or not Phyllis was surprised by Randy’s ability?”
“Nope.” Dillon shook his head. “But they sure did seem in a hurry to be off.…”
“Maybe they were anxious to see an eruption.” Marnie offered a simple explanation.
“Nope. That is, not unless they got their times wrong. Old Faithful had erupted about fifteen minutes before that. The crowds were coming back from it just as I drove up.”
“Susan?” Marnie prompted her.
“Did you see either of them again?” Susan asked slowly. She had been wondering whether the eruption Dillon mentioned was the same one George Ericksen had spoken of. If so, maybe she could begin to find some sort of time frame for the events that day.…
“Not together.” Dillon was answering her question. “I didn’t get back to the park until the next morning, of course. And I think I saw Mrs. Ericksen sometime that day. But I didn’t see Randy again … at least not alive, that is.”
“Dillon was with the group that found Randy’s body,” Marnie explained to Susan.
“You know, I don’t know how he died,” Susan said slowly.
“Apparently he was hit over the head with something … maybe one of those shovels again or maybe not. There hasn’t been a full autopsy, remember,” Marnie cautioned. “And the blow may not have killed him. He may have been knocked out, then buried in the snow and left to die. It wouldn’t have taken long. It sounds gruesome, but it’s really a pretty elegant murder.”
It wasn’t the word Susan would have chosen, but she could understand what Marnie meant. “And the body was directly under the sign that says something about ice cream?”
Dillon laughed. “It just says ‘ice cream.’ That building is an ice cream shop in the summertime. There are long lines leading to it all day, every day. With the first snow in September, it becomes a lot less popular, and it’s closed until Memorial Day. And yes, that’s where we found the body. It was under a rather large pile of snow—part drift and part pile made when the walkway near there was cleared of snow.”
“You just look under every snow pile to see what’s there?” Susan sounded disbelieving.
“Of course not.”
“So why that one?”
Dillon paused. “I’ve been wondering that myself. I’m not exactly sure why. I’d been noticing that pile for a few days.…”
“Why?” Susan prodded.
“It changed shape. I know it sounds strange, and I’m looking back with some hindsight, but I think it had been changing shape for more than a few days.…”
“Wind sweeps around that corner, and with this storm coming in, the wind was increasing. That could cause the change in shape,” Marnie suggested.
“I know, but it wasn’t that type of shape change. It was more like someone had been digging in it.…”
“More than once?” Susan asked.
“That’s what’s so strange. I think—and, please believe that I wasn’t paying any special attention to this mound of snow at the time; I never thought there was going to be a murdered man found there—that the pile had changed the day that I watched Randy and Mrs. Ericksen go off together. And since I never left the snowcoach after seeing the two of them, I must have seen it that morning.…”
“When I skied into it!” Susan exclaimed, going on to explain what had happened to her after the ski lesson.
“If only we knew whether the eruption George Ericksen referred to was the same one that happened before Randy and Phyllis Ericksen went off together,” Marnie said. “You didn’t happen to look at your watch, did you, Dillon?”
“No.”
“Too bad …”
“But I did see the ski lesson going on when I passed by the snow pile.…”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I noticed the bright parkas that your daughter and her friend wear,” Dillon said, tactfully not referring to how he had chuckled watching Susan ski off the trail and into an innocent ponderosa pine.
“And the pile had been disturbed at that time?”
“Definitely. That’s when I noticed it, in fact.”
“Recently?” Marnie asked.
“It was rough, like someone had just dug in it, yes.”
“You’re sure?” Susan asked.
“Yes. It’s been a windy week; the surface of the mound wouldn’t have stayed rough for more than a few hours, if that. It’s a pretty exposed corner,” Dillon answered. “And it didn’t just look like someone had dug in it, or buried something in it, it looked like it had been smoothed over—so that no one would notice anything.”
“And that was before I crashed into it,” Susan muttered.
“And you felt something underneath the snow?”
“Yes. I thought … well, after I found out about Randy’s death and where he was found, I thought that I had run into him.”
“It sounds like that isn’t possible, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. I
can’t tell you how relieved I am. I thought I must have run into him right after he was killed. I had been thinking that I should have done something. You see,” she explained to the group around the stove, “whatever I ran into was soft—not frozen.”
FORTY
Susan needed time to sort things out. And some help. And dinner. Marnie Mackay provided all three.
“Don’t think this is usual for us,” the ranger explained to Susan and Kathleen as the three women sat around the desk in the ranger’s office at the Visitor’s Center. “In all the time I’ve been here, I’ve never known the lodge kitchen to make and deliver meals. But I guess nothing is normal around here these days,” she added a little sadly, looking down at the three bowls of beef carbonnade, salads, and sourdough bread and butter, as well as plates, napkins, cutlery, and a large pot of coffee that had just been brought to them by a representative of the kitchen staff.
“How is Darcy getting his meals?” Kathleen asked, picking up a cherry tomato and popping it in her mouth.
“As I understand it, his mother is ordering from the menu, then one of his brothers picks the food up and drops it off with his guard. The rangers I’ve talked with say he isn’t eating, though, just drinking a little coffee and fruit juice. We may as well dig in,” she suggested, passing around cups and saucers.
“So what do you have?” Kathleen asked, filling alternate bowls with salad and stew.
“I suppose,” Susan said slowly, accepting her meal, “we have a lot of information. It’s just not in any order and doesn’t make much sense. Although I was glad to hear that Randy wasn’t under that snow pile when I ran into it.”
“What?”
Susan explained their recent discoveries to Kathleen while Marnie started her meal.
“So you probably ran into the effigy,” Kathleen said at the end of Susan’s recital as she picked up her fork.
The fork hit the table. “What?”
“The effigy … the dummy … the thing that was thrown into the water …” Kathleen explained, looking at Susan curiously. “Isn’t that what you’re saying?”
An Old Faithful Murder Page 22
