2 Dancing With Death

by Liz Marvin

  Betty groaned. “Yes,” she said, “but I won’t.” She did a quick mental check of herself, and decided that Clarise had been right. She’d been dead on her feet earlier. Now that she’d been awake for a moment, the haze had receded. She was rested enough to function properly now. And besides, it’s not like most of the hotel would be up this early anyhow. A couple hours of sleep couldn’t hurt anything, right?

  Speaking of other people… she glanced around the room quickly, confirming that Bill and Wes weren’t hiding from view. Clarise understood immediately.

  “Officer Park came and woke them at five. Actually,” she grumbled, “he woke us all. He said there was no rest for the law, and they were to come with him right away. Though I don’t see why he had to be so loud. I could’ve done with a little more sleep, and I’m not the law.”

  Betty stood, intending to head out the door and start her search for Bill. Clarise called her back.

  “Oh no,” she said. “You’re getting changed and brushing your teeth before I go anywhere with you. If you walk around like that people will assume you’ve gone off your rocker entirely.”

  Betty looked down at her outfit, wondering what was wrong with it. Clarise rolled her eyes and dragged Betty in front of the vanity mirror.

  “Oh,” Betty said. She did look rather… unkempt. She was still in her eveningwear from the night before, but now her dress was rumpled and her makeup smeared. Her eye shadow and mascara had blurred together, so that it looked like she had two black eyes. “When you put it that way,” she muttered. Clarise laughed and shoved her into the bathroom.

  “Get washed up and dressed. Fifteen more minutes won’t make much difference.”

  When Betty had straightened up and dressed herself in jeans and a light green sweater they were ready.

  They decided that the best place to start would be the lobby. If anyone in the hotel would know what was going on with the investigation, and where to find the investigating policemen, it was most likely the concierge on duty.

  They took the elevator to the first floor.

  Ding.

  The elevator doors rumbled apart. They opened on chaos.

  CHAPTER 26

  Hotel staff ran to and fro with carts laden with food trays or empty plates. Guests stalked about, demanding to know why they weren’t allowed to avail themselves of the hotel’s advertised skiing and snowmobiling activities. The hotel staff, dressed all in burgundy and gold livery, swarmed through everything. They smiled and nodded and refused all requests for exit. They offered cups of coffee and juice on trays, waiting hand and foot on the hotel guests in the hopes of keeping them happy. And there, in the middle of it all, was Harry Berch’s girlfriend, demanding a new room away from that “wretched man!” She had a tiny dog in a large purse bedecked with rhinestones and glitz on her arm. Tacky didn’t begin to cover it, and as Betty and Clarise edged closer to overhear her words the tiny dog’s yapping began to rise over the general hubbub of the room.

  “Kristina Lisee,” Harry’s girlfriend said, enunciating clearly, and loudly. “I don’t care if I have to sleep in a hole in the wall on a cot! Just find me another room!”

  The harassed-looking receptionist murmured apologies and clacked away on her keyboard. Kristina turned away with a huff, leaning against the desk with her back and facing the hall, where she immediately caught sight of Betty.

  “You,” she said. “You’re the girl Harry was flirting with.”

  Betty shrugged, thinking fast. “He didn’t seem my type,” she said.

  Kristina let out a bark of laughter, and her hand came up to pet the tiny dog hanging from her arm. “Good. He’s real scum, you know?”

  “Really?” Betty asked, feigning surprise and walking over so that she was standing closer Kristina. Clarise hung back. “Why do you say that?”

  “This was supposed to be our big weekend together,” Kristina complained. “Just us, he said. No work, no anything.” She looked at Betty, tears shining in her eyes. “I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. But I’ve hardly seen him this entire weekend! He’s always on the phone with this guy who can’t even speak proper English, or he’s off somewhere else. And this morning, he actually yelled at me to leave him alone!”

  That confirms it, Betty thought. He’s talking with Xerxes. Kristina wiped her eyes.

  “I don’t know what’s come over him, but I’ve had enough. I’m not wasting my best years on some jerk who can’t even appreciate me.”

  “Good for you,” Betty said firmly, meaning it. For all that Kristina appeared to be a pampered princess, she seemed like a nice person. She deserved better than Harry. Much better.

  “Excuse me, Miss Lisee?” George the concierge asked, appearing behind the ranting woman. “You’re old room was number 127, correct? Our staff will pick up your bags and move them to your new room.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Kristina said. “I have them all packed. It’s the matching Louis Vitton bags on the bed.”

  Betty’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline for a brief instant. Louis Vitton luggage? Well, however bereft the woman might be, she could always sell her luggage and have enough to live on for a couple months.

  George handed Kristina a new key, explaining that a footman would arrive with her luggage shortly. He apologized for not being able to take her to her new room himself, but gestured at the frantic lobby as an excuse. Kristina smiled.

  “I understand. Thank you for your help.” She turned back to Betty “Thank you so much,” she said, reaching out impulsively to hug Betty. When she pulled back, she had a slight smile on her face. “It’s nice to know that us girls stick together, isn’t it? And don’t let Harry get his hooks into you.”

  “I won’t,” Betty promised. It wasn’t even a lie. Harry might be handsome, but she preferred men of the non-homicidal variety.

  Kristina headed towards the elevators, while George turned to Betty with amusement in his expression.

  “You’re everywhere, aren’t you?” he asked. “And again, you’re helping with the guests. Are you quite sure I can’t offer you a job?”

  Betty shook her head. “No thank you,” she said. She gestured for Clarise to join them, and pulled George to a relatively out of the way corner. “I’m glad I ran into you though,” she said. “I’ve found out some things tonight that you might want to know.”

  “Oh?” George asked, frowning. As Betty explained about her suspicions and proof that Harry was in cahoots with Xerxes, the furrow in his forehead deepened.

  “That’s… disturbing.” George said. “Mr. Berch and Mr. Klient are some of our best customers. And Mr. Berch has a first-floor room during the competition. If I’m not mistaken, it’s one of the rooms with its own doors to the outside.” At Betty’s surprised look, George explained, “We have them for celebrities and wealthy customers who want to be able to make discrete exits from the hotel. They…” the blood drained form his face. “They open up onto the back parking lot. Which has just been plowed.”

  Betty traded panicked looked with Clarise. That meant that Harry could leave the hotel at any moment. They had to get to his rooms. Now.

  “You get Bill,” Betty said in a rush, already starting to move. “George and I will try and delay Harry.”

  “Bill won’t like it,” Clarise said.

  “We don’t have time for what Bill will or won’t like,” Betty snapped over her shoulder. “Just get him there! Come on George,” she said, striding towards room 126. “We have to pick up Miss Lisee’s bags.”

  But when they reached Harry’s room no one answered their knocks on the door. Betty and George traded looks, and George fished a master key out of his pocket. “We’re here to pick up the bags,” he called as the door opened.

  As it turned out, there was no need to announce their presence. The bags had been removed from the bed already, and there was no one in the room. The ground floor door stood open, letting in the cold winter air. Already, the wind had blown a slight dustin
g of snow into the room.

  Footprints trailed away from the door towards a storage shed at the far end of the parking lot. Next to her, George gasped.

  “I’ll… I’ll go get Officer Park,” he said, before turning to dash from the room as fast as his legs would carry him, his belly wobbling as he ran. “There’s a snow mobile in that shed.”

  Betty eyed the tracks. There was only a little snow on the floor, so Harry couldn’t have left long ago. It could’ve been minutes. She glanced back at the door behind her. Even if Bill and Officer Park got here in a few minutes, it could be too late.

  With a snow mobile, Harry could easily go where police cars couldn’t follow. She eyed the vast expanse of blurry mountains visible from the open door. With her poor vision, it looked endless. He could get lost there for days, maybe even weeks. There were enough caves and crannies… If he’d come earlier and stocked one with provisions for a hide out…

  They’d never find him.

  And that, Betty decided, was unacceptable.

  She headed out into the cold. If no one else was here to stop Harry’s escape, she’d have to do it herself.

  CHAPTER 27

  The moment she stepped out of doors, Betty regretted that she was only wearing sneakers and a light sweater. Sweaters were only effective if they were a final layer in thermal protection. As it was, the wind off the mountains blew through the tiny gaps in the weave, leaving Betty shivering within moments. And, just as quickly, snow toppled into her socks and the tops of her shoes, rendering her feet soaked and chilly. Soon they’d be half frozen. Thankfully, it seemed like the storm had left a relatively warm winter day in its wake, so she wasn’t as cold as she could have been. But for the wind, it would’ve merely been a bracing chill. Icicles hanging from the edge of the hotel roof were already starting to melt, dripping holes into the snow piled almost two feet deep.

  Betty was careful not to step into the footprints Harry had left, knowing that they could contain some sort of important evidence. Instead, she veered away from the trail, making for the edge of the parking lot instead of the shed. She reasoned that she’d be able to move more quickly on the recently plowed ground.

  At least she wouldn’t need to visit the gym that morning, Betty thought grimly as she trudged through the snow. Before she was half-way to the parking lot, she felt like she’d been doing high kicks for a half hour. Her legs were tired, her calves soaked, and her sweat was turning cold.

  She kept moving through it all, keeping the image of Miss Knolhart’s assistant lying in the freezer in the forefront of her mind. Harry didn’t deserve to get away with that, and she wasn’t about to let him just because she was a little cold and tired.

  She stumbled through the snow bank left by the plow onto the cement of the parking lot. Her foot caught on a piece of ice and she fell, scraping her hand on the hard ground. Betty picked herself up, brushing her sweater off as she continued forward. Her hand stung, but she ignored it. Already, the snow was starting to melt, pooling into slushy puddles and running in rivulets towards the edges of the lot. Betty sloshed forward.

  Now she could see the shed as a definite shape, instead of a blurry splotch. And she could see a dark figure opening the door.

  She wasn’t going to make it in time.

  Betty glanced frantically around and caught sight of a golf cart a few yards ahead, parked right next to Wes’s car. It had the logo of the hotel on the side. It must have been used to chauffer guests about the ground in better weather. Its top and seat were laden with snow, but as Betty came up next to it she could see that it still had the keys in the ignition.

  It would do.

  Betty brushed the snow from the seat and around the foot pedals, thought a small prayer, and turned the key. The cart sputtered for a moment, and Betty felt her heart stop. Surely the hotel wouldn’t have left the cart out in the snow if the snow would destroy it? But, before she could reach full panic mode, the golf cart was humming properly.

  She eyed the shed. The door was almost completely open. There was no time to waste.

  Betty slammed the golf cart into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, slamming into the trunk of Wes’s car in the process. She winced but kept going. Catching Harry was more important than a few dings.

  The shed door was completely open and the figure had disappeared back inside of it. Betty stomped down on the gas pedal, feeling the golf cart lurch forward. She was fifty feet from the shed… forty… thirty…

  A black snow mobile sped out of the shed, heading right for Betty.

  CHAPTER 28

  In an instant, Betty’s whole world slowed. Every sense heightened. She could hear her heartbeat, feel each individual prickle of cold, and see the decals on the snowmobile bearing down on her. Harry was driving, his mouth opened in a furious scream as he caught sight of her.

  At the last possible moment, both Betty and Harry swerved to avoid the other. Betty managed to hit the brakes before she slammed into a snow bank, her whole body lurching forward. Her chest hit the steering wheel, blaring the horn. Betty slammed backwards into the seat, gasping with pain and terror. Her chest felt like one big bruise, but she immediately stumbled out of the cart, lurching around to see what had become of Harry.

  The snowmobile was also in a snow bank. Its forward-pointing design had allowed it to half submerge itself in the bank. There was no way Harry was going anywhere until he dug it out of the bank, Betty thought with smug satisfaction. Hopefully, the delay would be enough for the police to find them.

  Harry dismounted from the snowmobile and spun to face Betty, his face a mask of fury. “You bitch!” he screamed. He pulled a gun from his waist, aiming it in Betty’s direction as she tensed to run. “Get over here and dig this out!” he continued.

  Running from a gun seemed a bit foolhardy. Bullets travelled faster than feet, Betty reasoned, walking over to Harry. And besides, if she was busy digging he wouldn’t shoot. She just had to hang on until the cavalry arrived.

  Hopefully, it’d arrive very, very soon.

  “Hands in the air!” Harry yelled as she came closer. Betty did as she was told, stopping when she was in front of him. Harry patted her down, feeling for any hidden weapons. Betty focused her eyes on the snowmobile, knowing that if she looked at him or the gun in his hand she’d be sick.

  There, on the back of the machine, was a large black bag. A gleam of gold showed through the partially open flap.

  Harry backed away and gestured with the gun to the snow bank. “Get started,” he said, coldly.

  Betty did as she was told, using her hands to scoop snow away from the machine. She took a deep breath, careful to avoid eye contact.

  “How did you know I was out here?” Harry snapped. “If Kristina said anything…”

  Betty shook her head, keeping her voice calm as she spoke. “It wasn’t her,” she said. “I found out it was you last night.” She told him about her investigation, making it sound like she’d come haring off on her own to catch him. When she glanced back, Harry was looking at her with a cold smile.

  She had to keep him talking, Betty realized, rubbing her hands together to get some of the water off. They were red and raw, and the snow mobile was still deeply buried.

  “Why does Xerxes want the cup anyhow?” she asked.

  Harry snorted. “Because he needs a nice, shiny bauble for his wife,” he spat, “to apologize for making her miss the competition. Stop asking questions and dig,” he said, gesturing with the gun again. Betty flinched as the barrel pointed at her. “Since you know so much, you’ll be coming with me.” Harry smiled without any humor at all. “As insurance.”

  Betty sighed mentally. Hadn’t she already done the hostage gig a few months ago? She was getting rather sick of murderers thinking it was a good idea to bring her along on their grand escape. And didn’t Harry know that having two passengers instead of one on the snowmobile would make it run slower and be more difficult to steer?

  Betty certainly wasn’t about
to tell him. And she supposed being kept as a hostage was better than being shot right then and there.

  As she dug, Harry started to talk. Betty rolled her eyes where he couldn’t see. Villains just had to have their monologue, didn’t they?

  “I would’ve gotten away with it scot-free you know,” he said, “if that little bitch Marissa hadn’t made me kill her. She wasn’t happy with her cut. No, she wanted more! Thought she could trap me into being blackmailed. Ha!” Betty made a mental note of the fact that Bill and Wes hadn’t been far off with their suspect. The assistant had had a role in the theft. “Stop digging,” he said. The snow mobile was uncovered enough so that Harry could back it out of the snow bank. Betty did as she was told and turned to face him.

  Harry raised the gun at her. “You know,” he said, “I think you know just a little too much. I don’t think you’d make a very good hostage after all.”

  Betty’s eyes widened, her gaze trained on the gun pointed directly at her chest.

  CHAPTER 29

  “Freeze!” Came Bill’s voice, and Betty was never so glad to hear a sound in her life. Her knees went weak with relief. She looked away from the gun and saw both Bill and Officer Park behind one of the parked cars, their guns trained on Harry. Harry looked at them briefly, his eyes wide with panic.

  It occurred to Betty that Harry had truly believed he could make a clean getaway with the trophy. It hadn’t ever crossed his mind that he might be caught. But here he was, trained in the crosshairs of two guns. There was no way he could get off a shot at Betty without being gunned down. He was completely in the open.

  Betty took advantage of Harry’s moment of distraction to dive towards the other side of the snowmobile, where she’d at least have some sort of protection from any ensuing gunfight.

  A shot rang out as she moved, echoing over the snow.