by Patti Larsen
“What the hell?” Ethan raised both hands to Jenny while Noah hid behind his brother, Ava looking back and forth between her and me like she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, Simone huddling next to her. “Put the gun down, miss.”
“Miss.” Jenny barked that word in a laugh that sounded painful. “You see?” She swung the gun toward me again before lashing it back at the four friends. “He doesn’t even know my name.”
“Paisley, right?” Ava’s voice had that soft and soothing tone one used on a frightened animal. At least she was in control of herself. “You work the front desk.”
“This is Jenny Markham,” I said. “You go to school with her. She was Elizabeth’s best friend.” I stressed every syllable, aiming my attention at Ava and Simone. Two sets of eyes widened as they nodded to me.
“Right, Jenny. I remember now.” Ava forced casualness, in her tone, in the way she tucked her hands into her trendy snow jacket.
“Yes, of course. Nice to see you again.” Simone tilted her head at me, fear as clear as her confusion while my sad heart realized neither of them did know who Jenny was. So the crazy girl had that much right.
Ethan wasn’t getting the hint. “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”
“This is perfect.” Jenny laughed again. “I had hoped at least the generator accident would hurt you, maybe kill you. I couldn’t risk making sure. But now?” She pointed the weapon at Ethan. “I can take all of you out and the explosion will hide everything.”
“She’s rigged the generators,” I said in a low voice, forcing myself to my feet, my pug in my arms. Because I refused to let Jenny shoot her. “She killed Mason and Elizabeth.”
Not that I had to state the obvious or anything.
“Jenny, you don’t have to do this.” Poor Ava had no idea I’d tried that line already.
“No, I guess not,” she said suddenly, rifle tip dropping. “In fact, I only need you, don’t I?” Jenny gestured for Ava to come closer. “You’re coming with me or I’m killing everyone here and making you watch.”
“Ava.” Ethan grabbed for her but she was already moving, hands out of her pockets and held out in surrender while the other three gathered together and let her sacrifice herself for them. My entire being cracked in that instant and I understood Jenny’s hate with the kind of piercing disappointment that I’d only felt once before—when Ryan cheated and I left him.
“You can’t go far,” I said. “Not in this storm.” Petunia held very still in my arms as I straightened, shivers fading, last remaining dose of adrenaline forcing my shoulders back and my resolve to stiffen like my cold limbs.
“Watch me.” She spared one second to lean down and press the button on the generator beside her, then straightened and pulled the lever for the lift. The same one she’d been reaching for when I interrupted her first. With a belching roar from the generator, power bloomed around us, the giant cogs and chains of the lift coming to life, the garage door folding upward, exposing us to the storm. The wind whipped past the opening, adding to the thrum of sound, pure white on the other side, stirring little tornadoes of snow but at the wrong angle, thankfully, to blast us with its full power. The lift itself hummed and groaned slowly up to speed, the first bench seat sliding gracefully upward and out into the storm. “I’ll leave her for you at the top of the mountain,” Jenny called out over the grumble of the generator and the howl of winter. “Somewhere.”
“The snowmobile,” I yelled. “You drove it up there earlier.” The temperature in here had already been cold but now it was dropping fast. I had to find a way to end this. Especially now that the natural gas lines were working and, if she was telling the truth, pumping fuel into the intakes of not only her small generator but the genset of the entire lodge. So little time to stop the chain reaction of devastation she’d set in motion.
“And skied down,” she shouted back. “I’ve learned, since last winter.” She grabbed for Ava, nabbed the sleeve of her jacket, tugged her close with the rifle steady in her other hand. Her right hand. Smart despite her insanity. “Get on.” She shoved Ava toward the lift, following her with her back to the girl.
I caught Ava’s attempt to subdue Jenny just as she made it, the shift in her stance, the way her face tightened. And leaped, not for the girl with the gun, but the generator only a few feet away. Petunia yipped in pain as I landed against the machine with her squashed against me and kicked the hose, gas hissing as it skipped across the concrete. I didn’t have time to worry about possible sparks and the fact I might have just killed us all in my haste, fist coming down on the big red button on the generator’s lid. It died instantly, cutting off the power and the noise in the same instant Ava lashed out at Jenny’s gun hand, sending the rifle spinning. It landed and skidded toward the big doors, now gaping open, and the two girls leaped for it together.
“Get her!” My shout at the three huddled friends did nothing, though it turned out we didn’t need them. Not when a giant, black shadow, growling loud enough to be heard despite the storm, leaped from the snow and landed on Jenny.
Moose, his massive body pinning her to the ground, howled his victory while an equally large form lurched from the snow and retrieved the rifle.
“I think you dropped this,” Bill said to the weeping Jenny trapped under his grinning dog.
***
Chapter Thirty Four
I stood, shivering despite my warm jacket, hat and mitts, heavy winter boots to my knees, on the front step of the lodge and inhaled the crisp, winter air while the line of guests exited the foyer and headed for the parking lot. The plows rumbled by, clearing another strip of snow from the main road, pushing back the last of the heavy whiteness and letting us leave at last.
Daylight never felt so good and despite the crispness of the air the sun warmed my cheeks enough in the shelter of the building, the quiet calm a huge change from the storm, I was loathe to go back inside. I was packed and ready, but wanted to wait until everything was finished before I took my leave.
Two state troopers exited the building with Jenny between them, Crew trailing after them, talking in a low voice. He descended the main stairs to their car, finishing his conversation while one of them helped the girl into the back of the car and slammed the door. I swallowed hard, heart pounding, and admitted this was the reason I lingered. For proof that she was safely in custody, for an instant of connection as her eyes lifted and met mine. She smiled, cracked and broken, before lowering her head and not looking up again.
Crew joined me as they drove away, hands in his pockets, steam rising from his lips while he exhaled heavily. “The state boys will have a fight on their hands once the FBI comes sniffing around,” he said. “Elizabeth’s murder in Colorado makes it a case they’ll both fight over.”
I shrugged, sad and wanting to be warm again, turning toward the foyer and my bags waiting behind the desk. “Let them. I’m just as happy to wash my hands of anything to do with this whole mess.”
Crew held the door for me with a lip twist of agreement. “For once, I’m with you, Fee.”
My boots thudded on the carpet when I crossed to the desk, Mom waiting there with Petunia between them. But my mission to leave wasn’t quite over, not when I almost stumbled into James Adler and Lucas Day. The pair hesitated as they paused before me and I realized Crew had followed me, was now standing next to me while the tall, lean Adler spoke.
“I wanted to thank both of you,” he said, “for finding Elizabeth’s murderer. She deserved justice.”
I squeezed his hand and nodded. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “But at least now you’ll be able to find her body.” Jenny had given up enough details search and rescue teams in Aspen were already looking.
“Lucas and I have been friends a long time,” James said, smiling to the other man with tears in his eyes. “I’ve missed that friendship since I lost my daughter. But you gave that back to me, too.”
“To both of us.” Lucas clasped his partner’s hand. “That ma
tters to me more than any real estate deal, James.”
“What does that mean?” I really needed sleep because I was blurting random questions at people who seemed to have found some happy I didn’t need to be disturbing.
But James sighed like he’d been pondering that question already. “It means there’s a very good chance I’ll be exiting this project, and probably declaring bankruptcy, if the Pattersons have anything to say about it.” He shrugged. “They hold the 51% share and though Lucas and I are reconciled, I’m still out of luck.”
“Maybe not.” I hadn’t expected Aundrea to appear and join the conversation bundled in a trendy and clearly expensive white snow suit that screamed big city designer. “In fact, if the two of you are up for it, this Patterson would like to discuss an agreement.” She winked at me, Pamela holding Cookie in her puffy ski-jacketed arms next to her partner grinning like she knew something no one else did.
“I don’t understand,” Lucas said, a faint hope in his voice.
“Only that the Patterson family shares the 51% as a whole,” Aundrea said, hooking one arm through James’s elbow and the other through Lucas’s. “And that my son and I, as Pattersons, would like to tip the scales in your favor. If that’s acceptable to you.”
I grinned when she led them away, heart lighter than it had been in a while. No, wait. I think that was lightheadedness from needing to fall down and sleep this whole crap show off.
Crew shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “This town,” he whispered, “will be the death of me.”
I jabbed him in the ribs with one elbow and laughed with a snort at the end, knowing I sounded vaguely like a protesting donkey and not really caring. “Careful what you wish for.”
Crew grunted to me before striding off like it was the only response he had left.
As I turned to head for Mom and my dog again, arms wrapped around me, pulling me tight and almost choked me with enthusiasm. I hugged Simone back, looking up at her when she finally released me, her dark eyes brimming with tears and dark cheeks already wet.
“I’m so sorry, Fee,” she whispered. “I just stood there and watched and couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. I was so scared.” She sniffled, hands shaking as they grasped mine. “Jazz was right. You’re so much braver than anyone else I know.”
I embraced her again and sighed out the moment of disappointment I’d felt, knowing it wasn’t real, induced by terror and Jenny and exhaustion. “Just do me a favor,” I said. “No more jerks.”
She laughed, pulled away, sniffling and brightening at the same time. “I swear to you, I’m done. Dating them and being one. Nice guys and kind Simone from now on. And not even any kind of love life for a while.” She hugged herself, her puffy navy coat squishing around her before she dropped her arms and smiled at me in that way that made me miss her sister like crazy. “I think I might look at law school.” She winked. “If Jazz won’t mind a lawyer in the family.”
I laughed. “You know how your social worker sister feels about lawyers. Good luck with that.”
She left me there, dragging her rollie to the door and exiting out into the sunshine while I shook my head and wished her the best. Turned at last and headed for my mother, my pug, and home.
***
Chapter Thirty Five
As I focused on my goal, I caught movement from the dining room doors and glanced that way in time to see Dad and Malcolm Murray emerging from the quiet of the hall. For a moment they paused, Malcolm’s hand on Dad’s arm and my father actually waiting, head down, listening as The Orange’s Irish owner whispered something to him. Dad shook his head and walked away at last, leaving Malcolm to stare after him with a sad look on his face. I swerved without thinking, crossing to join him and when he spotted me that sorrow turned to a flash of a smile in a heartbeat.
“A busy night, Fiona,” he said. “And I hear you’re to thank for catching the killer.”
I shrugged at that, not caring about his praise at the moment. “What were you and Dad talking about just now?” Maybe it was being overtired or just tired of secrets but I know I was a bit abrupt. Okay, more than a bit. Malcolm didn’t seem to mind, though his sorrow returned around the edges of the smile that didn’t fade while he spoke.
“Nothing to do with this murder, lass,” he said, and walked away.
I stared after him, the obvious question in my mind from the way he chose to phrase his exit statement, whether consciously or not. And I highly doubted a man like Malcolm ever spoke a word without thinking.
So, to take things too far—or not far enough. If not this murder, then which one? What was my father hiding?
Daisy had joined Mom and my quiet dad by the time I reached them, hugging my pug against her long, wool coat, cradling the dog like a toddler against her faux fur collar while Petunia leaned into her ear scratch with a groan of utter delight. Despite her bout in the cold the pug came through without any permanent damage I could see and, to my surprise, neither had I. She’d take a trip to the vet shortly just to be sure, but a doctor visit for me wasn’t necessary. How I avoided frostbite I’d never know but would always be grateful.
Must have been the shots of scotch with Daisy that sustained me. Sure, I’d go with that.
I was about to take Petunia from her when my friend’s eye line shifted from me to someone behind me. I turned and watched with my mouth hanging open as her former, if temporary, beau Emile strode past in a heavy fur coat of some kind of dead animal that could have used their pelt more than him as far as I was concerned. With Vivian on his arm.
“Please, Emile, wait!” So out of character to see Olivia running after anyone, let alone in a public place. She was not looking herself at all this morning, flustered and mussed, her pale cream dress from last night once elegant and perfect now wrinkled and stained, the hem showing wear.
Emile paused, Vivian with him, as the potential investor we didn’t need, thank you, scowled down at the mayor. “I think I’ve had about enough of your hospitality,” he said. “If murder and sabotage are common place in your little hamlet, I will be happy to see the back side of it. Good day, Olivia.” As he spun away, the arrogant jerk, Vivian caught my gaze, Daisy’s. She shot us both a vicious grin, popping an expensive pair of sunglasses down over her eyes as they runway strutted out into the sunlight, Crew scowling from his position across the foyer. Was he seriously jealous of that little show she orchestrated to make him feel crappy about himself? Well, then Vivian’s plan worked, because I had zero doubt that had been her goal all along.
Olivia held very still before physically shaking off the rejection and smiling at everyone who would meet her eyes—not many people. She turned like this was just another event and a ho hum kind of day to march back toward the elevator while Mom watched her go with narrowed eyes and a speculative look on her face.
I focused on Daisy to say I was sorry about Emile only to catch her grinning.
“He’s her kind of nice,” she said, a long mile of meaning in that simple phrase. I couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “And she’s welcome to his judgmental ass.”
I grinned and hugged Petunia when Daisy finally gave her up. “I meant what I said in the bar earlier. It’s time. You need to find your own path, miss.”
She nodded, sighed. Then her usual happy-go-lucky expression returned and she giggled before hugging Dad, Mom and then me and Petunia as a package before stepping back with a gusty sigh, arms spread, twirling in a circle like she was the queen of the world, cream wool coat flaring out around her. She’d never been so beautiful as she was in that moment.
“See you at work,” she said with a wink and left with her bag over her shoulder, my incredible friend succeeding where Olivia failed, drawing every eye in the lobby whether she knew it or not.
Mom sighed. “Oh, for that kind of charisma,” she said. “I’d rule the world.”
Dad flinched like she’d struck him while I arched both eyebrows at her, beaming. “Or, at least, Reading,” I said. �
�Madam Mayor?”
Mom’s eyes twinkled while Dad groaned. “None of that, John Fleming,” she said, expression flipping to irritation, her inner steel showing as it did so rarely. “I tolerated too many years as the sheriff’s wife for you to make a peep of protest about my plans.”
“Yes, dear,” Dad said, gathering their bags. “Anything you say, dear. After you, dear.” Mom strode off with the same kind of strut Daisy came by naturally like she was testing it out but I held Dad back a moment with a frown tightening the line between my eyes.
“Do we need to talk about Malcolm?” I waited while his face crumbled a little before he closed himself off to me. Big shocker there. But not anger, no. Sadness. What the hell was going on between those two? Or, better question, what had gone on?
“Love you, kid,” he said, kissing my forehead before striding off after Mom with their bags in tow. Silence and secrets a la John Fleming. Okay then. We’d just see about that.
Petunia protested her confinement in my arms with a whine and a wriggle. I set her down at my feet, retrieving her harness from the top of my bag and snapping her in, retractable leash firmly secured. When I straightened up I was no longer alone, meeping a soft protest for the invasion before Ava hugged me from out of nowhere, Ethan standing slightly apart, his face sad.
“Thank you,” she said, bubbling over with some kind of eagerness that was infectious because I was smiling again in response to it despite my previous train of thought.
“Thank you,” I said, squeezing her hand. “You saved our lives.” I let her go. “What were you four doing out there, anyway? Talk about perfect timing.”
