In the depths of the laughing eyes that were fixed on her Liz glimpsed something. Sincerity, maybe? Perhaps Jeremy really was sorry for what happened. Maybe coming here tonight was his way of extending an olive branch. That couldn’t be easy for him, just as it wasn’t easy for her to be around Tim.
Realizing that this was as close to an apology as she was likely to get from him, Liz forced a smile. “Okay. Bygones it is.”
She extended a hand to seal the deal. But he gave her one of the cockeyed grins she remembered so well, the one that used to melt her insides.
“Oh, I think we can do better than that.”
He leaned over the back of the chair and planted a lingering kiss on her cheek. It was a pleasant surprise to realize that the touch of his warm lips on her skin didn’t stir her at all. She fixed a relieved smile on him.
“Ahem.”
They both turned, as everyone around the table looked up. Ryan stood beside them holding a tray with four steaming mugs, his eyes round. At his side stood Tim.
Her gaze drawn to his, a sickening shock coursed through Liz. That he’d seen Jeremy’s kiss was obvious. Tim’s face was pale as his eyes flicked between the two of them. He wore the expression that still haunted Liz’s nightmares, the one that flooded her with gut-wrenching guilt. The same stricken expression he’d worn the day he found her and Jeremy locked in a passionate embrace.
Liz was unable to hold his gaze. She turned away.
Jeremy, at least, seemed determined to keep the awkward situation light. “Hey, there. I was up here on an errand and thought I’d stop by for a shot of espresso to keep me awake on the drive home. I saw the gang back here, and just came over to say hi.” He jumped out of the chair. “Here, buddy, let me give you a hand with that.”
Wordlessly, Ryan yielded the tray and Jeremy set it on the table in front of Liz. The back of her neck burned from Tim’s gaze. No way was she going to turn around and face him with Jeremy in the same room. She grabbed for one of the mugs and gulped the scalding liquid. It scorched her throat on the way down, a pain she welcomed as a just reward for the agony she’d just seen in Tim’s eyes. Across the table, Debbie sat with her mouth gaping open.
“Don’t run off on my account,” Jeremy said. “I’m not staying.”
Tim was leaving? Liz couldn’t stop herself. She twisted in her seat.
But all she saw was the back of Tim’s coat as he left the espresso bar.
The door of the Java Hut whooshed closed behind Tim. He didn’t pause even a moment, inhaling the frigid night air as he walked away from the restaurant. Fast. He needed to put space between him and that worm who used to be his friend.
The rational part of his mind whispered that the kiss he’d just seen was harmless. Platonic. Nothing like the one he’d interrupted three years ago.
But the irrational part sent emotions coursing through his brain that he was powerless to control. Anger. Hurt. And above all, white-hot jealousy.
What were the chances of walking into the Java Hut at that exact moment?
Lord, haven’t I suffered enough at that guy’s hands?
He broke into a run, willing the cold winter air to cool down the searing heat that roiled in his soul.
THIRTEEN
When Liz and her friends exited the elevator the next morning, the sound of voices in the lobby was almost as loud as in the espresso bar last night. People crowded the front desk, and Kate, the woman on the other side of the counter, looked frazzled. Piles of luggage and ski bags littered the tiled floor.
“What’s going on?” Jazzy asked. She was moving gingerly this morning, but she’d taken Ryan’s advice about the ibuprofen and insisted she was up for another day of skiing.
“I don’t know.” Liz hooked her finger in her ski jacket and slung it over her shoulder. She carried her backpack in her other hand. “Looks like they’re all checking out.”
“Poor Mr. Harrison.” Worry lines creased Caitlin’s smooth forehead. “I feel so sorry for him.”
Liz pointed across the lobby. “Let’s head for the coffee shop. We’re supposed to meet Debbie and the other girls in there.”
They threaded their way through the people and luggage. When they stepped through the door of the coffee shop, the sound of chatter from the lobby diminished. A television set hung suspended from the ceiling, the volume turned up loud enough to echo in the empty restaurant. Mr. Harrison stood behind the counter beside an older woman, both of them staring up at the screen where a female reporter looked directly into the camera as she spoke.
“… dead on a chairlift at Eagle Summit Mountain Resort in Park City. The victim has been identified as thirty-seven-year-old Jason Ronald Sinclair of Utah. Sinclair reportedly died from a gunshot wound to the head.”
The scene changed, and Brandon, the kid Liz had seen yesterday in this very coffee shop, directed a toothy grin at the camera. A snow-covered slope showed in the background. Behind the counter, Mr. Harrison emitted a strangled moan.
“The dude was dead, and like, Popsicle City, you know?” the teen told the reporter. “My buddy was at the top of the lift, and I was at the bottom, and we got the all-clear to start it up, and then this body came up on chair thirty-seven. My buddy thought it was, like, a joke, you know? But it sure wasn’t no joke.” Brandon’s voice took on a tone of ghoulish glee. “It was a frozen dead guy.”
The reporter’s voice sounded again as the camera angle switched to sweep over the tree-lined slope with an unmoving chairlift in the background. “Eagle Summit Mountain Resort closed down yesterday on orders from the Summit County Sheriff, but is expected to reopen this morning. We’ve been told the sheriff will make a statement at ten o’clock, and we’ll be here with live coverage. I’m Sara Reese, Channel Two News.”
The broadcast returned to the newsroom and the smiling faces of a male and female anchor behind a neat desk. Liz turned toward Mr. Harrison, who had collapsed onto his folded arms over the coffee shop counter, while the older woman patted his back.
“We’re done.” The man’s voice was muffled by his sleeves. “We might as well close our doors.”
Liz gave Caitlin and Jazzy a worried look. The poor man. She put a hand on his arm. “Surely this will blow over. Business might be lean for a day or so, but then people will forget.”
He shook his lowered head. “I don’t know if we can weather the storm for even a few days.” He peeked upward and spoke in a lowered voice. “My wife thinks it’s a conspiracy. Someone’s trying to put us out of business.”
Killing some poor man and planting his body on a chairlift seemed like a pretty elaborate way to shut down a business to Liz. Unless the man they found was somehow associated with the resort.
“Did you know the victim?” she asked. “This Jason Sinclair guy?”
“Never heard of him.”
Caitlin gave the top of his head a sympathetic smile. “Then a conspiracy theory seems a little far-fetched.”
Jazzy agreed. “Besides, you never know. You might get more business than normal out of this.” Mr. Harrison lifted his head to give her a questioning look. “You know, people love to do something spooky. Some might come just so they could ride on the chair the body was found on.”
Mr. Harrison was still staring at her with something like horror when Debbie and the rest of the wedding party arrived, their heavy ski boots clattering on the tile flooring with every step.
“There you are.” Debbie leaned her skis and poles against the rear wall. “What a zoo out there.”
Betsy and the other girls lined their skis up beside hers.
“Oh!” Mr. Harrison stood and straightened the knot of his tie beneath his chin. “I deserted poor Kate to watch the news. I need to get out there and help her.”
He hurried away, passing Ryan and his friends on their way in as he exited.
“Wow, what a mob.” Ryan set his snowboard on a table. “If all those folks are leaving, this place is going to be a ghost town by tonight.”
Patrick rubbed his hands. “Good. We’ll have the slopes to ourselves. No lift lines.”
The woman behind the counter frowned in his direction and disappeared into the back room. Liz echoed her frown. She was all for short lift lines, but didn’t the guy realize how self-centered he sounded? Besides the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Harrison could be ruined financially, someone had been killed. Murdered. And the killer was still out there. Celebrating short lift lines was shallow at best, in addition to being naively ignorant. She was about to say something along those lines when someone else entered the coffee shop and her words dissolved.
Tim was here.
She’d tossed and turned through most of the night, unable to clear her mind of the wounded expression on his face when he’d seen her and Jeremy together at the Java Hut. Her emotions had run the gamut from guilt (this was the second time she’d injured the man, and he didn’t deserve it) to indignation (after all, they had no ties, no commitments, so why shouldn’t she greet an old friend?) to anger (was he going to hold her past mistakes over her head for the rest of her life?). Somewhere around three o’clock she’d come to a horrifying realization. Jeremy was no threat at all. She’d been able to look at him without feeling even a twinge of the attraction that had been such an irresistible force three years ago. He was safe.
But Tim was not safe. Definitely not. She couldn’t even look him in the face. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, but when he walked into a room she felt his presence like a physical assault. Her head went light. Her heart throbbed in her ears. Her blood roared through her veins at light speed.
Like now.
“Hey, there’s my best man.” Ryan extended a fist in greeting.
Tim knocked his knuckles against Ryan’s. Liz kept her eyes turned away, but she strained to watch him through her peripheral vision. He balanced his snowboard on the floor on one end and nodded a greeting around the room. After a quick glance, he did not look in her direction.
“What’s going on out there?” He jerked his head toward the lobby.
“The proverbial rats.” Patrick shook his head. “They’ve decided this ship is sinking, and they’re bailing out.”
“Hey, Tim.” Ryan leaned against the pastry case. “The morning news said the sheriff found out who the dead guy was. You know anything about him?”
“Nope.” One of Tim’s eyebrows rose. “But if I did, I couldn’t say anything. You know that.”
Though Tim wasn’t looking at her, Liz felt the weight of Debbie’s stare. The bridesmaids also kept throwing her curious glances. She ignored them all. The only females who weren’t aware of last night’s disastrous episode were Jazzy and Caitlin. They were both asleep when she came in, and she didn’t want to talk about it this morning.
“So.” Liz’s voice came out too loud. “Where are we skiing today?”
“I’m sticking to the blues and greens,” Debbie announced. “The last thing I need is to break a bone on a black diamond two days before my wedding.”
“That’s fine with me,” Betsy said, and the others nodded their agreement.
“What are blues and greens?” Jazzy asked. “I didn’t have the nerve to ask my instructor yesterday. It’s like everybody here speaks a foreign language.”
Debbie smiled at her. “It’s just a classification system for skiers. The easy slopes are marked as greens. Blues are a little harder, so only skiers who’ve advanced to the intermediate level take those. And blacks are the really hard ones.”
Jazzy’s mouth twisted. “So I want the green ones?”
“Actually,” Liz answered, “there’s a bunny slope with a slow chairlift for beginners.”
With a quick look toward Jazzy, Caitlin gave Liz a knowing smile. “We’ll probably hang around the bunny slope this morning and see how it goes. Can we meet up for lunch somewhere?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ryan said. “There’s only one slope-side restaurant, Nellie Belle’s Café, at the midmountain lodge. Want to meet around eleven-thirty?”
Liz knew Caitlin had skied before, and had been looking forward to this trip. “You know, I haven’t been on the slopes in three years. I think I might need to hang with the bunnies this morning, too. Caitlin, you go on up with Debbie and the girls. Jazzy and I will see you at lunch.”
Debbie opened her mouth to protest. Having hung out with Tim and Ryan for four years during college, Liz had become an expert skier and Debbie knew it. Liz gave her a loaded look and shifted her eyes for a moment toward Tim. Debbie shut her mouth without speaking. Though Liz didn’t relish the thought of hanging out on the beginner slopes, at the moment it seemed far better to spend the morning with Jazzy than trying to avoid loading a lift chair beside Tim.
Liz tried to ignore the look of relief that flooded Tim’s face. And the answering disappointment that deflated her. He didn’t want to spend time in her company, either.
The morning was even tougher than Liz expected. Poor Jazzy tried, but she was a pretty dismal skier. By lunchtime, Liz’s arms ached from pulling her friend up off the snow from one face-plant after another. As they rode the Old Baldy Express up to midmountain, Liz decided she’d stayed on the beginner slopes long enough. It was Caitlin’s turn to babysit the bunny skier for the afternoon.
“I’m never going to get it,” Jazzy moaned.
“Sure you will. You’re doing great for your second day on skis. It took me a week to get my turns, and you just about had it on that last run.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Liz lied.
Jazzy looked down. This lift was the first one she’d ridden outside of the bunny slopes, and her expression showed her anxiety as she stared at the ground forty feet below them.
“We’re pretty high up in the air, aren’t we?”
“Oh, not that high.” Liz kept her tone worry-free.
“And we’re moving really fast.”
The beginner lift was so slow it had driven Liz crazy all morning. “That’s why they call it a high-speed lift. It’s going to take us up to midmountain.”
“What if I don’t get off in time?” She twisted in her seat to watch an empty chair returning on the downhill line. “Can I just stay on it and go around again?”
Liz bit back a laugh. “They really don’t like you to ride down, just up. But don’t worry. It’ll slow down at the unloading ramp. Do it just like you’ve been doing it this morning. Stand up and lean forward. You’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.” Jazzy sounded unconvinced.
Truth be told, so was Liz. They’d had a couple of near catastrophes getting off the slow lift already today.
As they approached the lift hut at the top of the slope, Jazzy scooted to the edge of the chair, her poles clutched in her hands so hard they trembled. Liz tried to be inconspicuous as she scooted as far away from her friend as the chair allowed. Beginners were known to cause some pretty extraordinary disasters getting off lift chairs.
They reached the snow-covered ramp beside a lift hut that looked very much like the one at the bottom of the hill. A sign told them to unload here. Holding her poles in one hand, Liz checked to be sure her backpack wasn’t snagged on the chair back. She placed her skis firmly on the snow and leaned forward.
Unfortunately, Jazzy panicked. Her legs went wide, and one ski slid across Liz’s. Their legs became tangled, and in a matter of seconds, Jazzy tumbled. In a frantic, last-ditch effort to keep her balance she grabbed for Liz, and down they both went.
From the corner of her eye, Liz saw the lift operator slap the shut-off button. The chair they just unloaded came to a stop dangerously close to their position. A chair whipping around the corner could cause a concussion if it connected to the back of a downed skier’s head. Liz tried to disengage her legs, skis and poles, but Jazzy’s thrashing made it impossible to get free. They floundered on the snow, and Liz took a blow to the lip. The bitter taste of copper pennies filled her mouth.
She let out an involuntary, “Ouch!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Jazzy said. “Here, let me just get my leg out.”
“No! Just stop moving!”
The kid running the lift ran over and grabbed Jazzy beneath the arms, dragging her away. In the next moment, Liz felt a strong hand on her arm and an all-too-familiar voice in her ear.
“Here, I’ve got you. Can you stand up?”
Tim. Her stomach sank. Why did he have to show up in time to see her wallow on the snow like a walrus? Could she manage to look any less graceful?
“Of course I can stand up,” she snapped.
Okay, that came out way sharper than she intended. Tim released her arm and stepped away. She righted her skis, planted her poles and hefted herself upright as he watched.
“Whoa, that was spectacular!”
Liz turned in the direction of Ryan’s voice and groaned. Everyone was there, standing in a line, watching the show.
“Are you two okay?” Worry saturated Caitlin’s tone.
“I’m fine.” Liz flashed a quick, miserable smile in Tim’s direction. “Thanks.”
He nodded, turned, and walked away. Quickly. Like he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
“I’m so sorry.” The lift operator had hauled Jazzy to her feet, and she duckwalked on her skis toward Liz. “I’ll never get this skiing thing.”
“It’s okay.” Liz tried to smile. “Really. Everybody has trouble with the lift at first.”
Jazzy looked into her face, and then winced. “You’re bleeding.”
Liz swiped at the corner of her mouth with a gloved finger. “It’s not bad. Don’t worry about it.” She could already feel her lip starting to swell. Good thing she played the cello and not the flute, like Caitlin.
Murder in D Minor Boxed Set Page 27
