Murder on Ice

by B. T. Lord

  “—Is he your murderer?”

  “—What about the man you arrested earlier? Is he innocent?”

  Once again Cammie held up her hand for silence. “As I said earlier, I can’t give any more details, except for the fact that Mr. Paltrow had a history with the deceased and is wanted for further questioning. “

  “—Is he a suspect?”

  “He is a person of interest right now. An All Points Bulletin has been issued to authorities throughout New England, the Canadian border and Illinois. Again, if you or anyone has information regarding Mr. Paltrow and where he may be, we ask that you contact this office immediately.” She rattled off a phone number, then quickly ducked back into HQ.

  Both Rick and Emmy stared at her in astonishment. Since Eli’s appearance almost a week before, they hadn’t seen her as radiant as she did at that moment. With her back to the clamor outside the front door, she allowed herself a triumphant smile.

  “That should give Eddie a run for his money,” she said as she stripped off her pungent smelling parka, and deposited it on the coat rack near Emmy.

  “And Mayor Barnes too,” Rick quipped. “Man, he must really love Jace to put up that kind of money for a reward.”

  Cammie laughed. “No, he just wants the murderer to be anyone but a Twin Ponder. With any luck, that cash will bring us Eddie on a silver platter.”

  By the time Cammie got home that evening, the glow still hadn’t worn off from her short press conference. As she’d suspected, the press grabbed the tidbit about Eddie and ran with it. Emmy monitored the internet, and all three relished what the press was able to dig up on Eddie Paltrow, including the sudden about face on the articles he wrote about Eli. So far they hadn’t found any concrete evidence of Eli’s affair with Lucy Paltrow, but it was beginning to be hinted at. It was only a matter of time before Eddie got wind of the manhunt and turned himself in. He didn’t look the type who could survive in the wilderness for any length of time, especially in winter. Hell, Cammie didn’t think she could survive in these woods, and she’d been born and raised here. With $5,000 hanging in the balance, a great deal of money to every Twin Ponder, it was doubtful anyone would hide the hapless reporter. That and their love for their fallen hero should ensure Eddie’s reappearance soon.

  She stopped off at Doc’s where he’d taken a look at her ankle and told her she’d live. Thankfully, it was only a slight sprain. With a couple of painkillers he’d given her, she’d be fine in a day or two.

  Despite the reward, she felt compelled to drive once more over to the Timberwolf Lodge, but Paltrow’s Camry was nowhere to be seen. Nor did she catch sight of him as she again drove all over Twin Ponds.

  It wasn’t until she was sitting by the stove with her foot propped up, cold packs on both her knuckles and ankle, and a warm cup of tea in her hands, that she began to feel that lonesome feeling again. The glow wore off as she thought about the big game that was just starting. Since returning to Twin Ponds, she’d never missed any of the Night Hawks home games. Once she took up with Jace, she even managed to attend a couple of their away games. It just didn’t feel right not being there tonight.

  Even if Jace did hate her.

  Even if the whole town hated her.

  Her first impulse was to go to the game anyway, and screw anybody who didn’t like it. Damn it, her actions that day should show people she was trying her best to solve this murder. But one look at her bandaged ankle gave her pause. They’d been so busy monitoring the news on Paltrow, they’d neglected to monitor the mood of the townspeople. Her appearance at the game might just start a mini-riot. Her job was to stop them, not start them. And how ridiculous would she look trying to hobble away on a bum ankle if a ruckus did explode? No, it was just as well she stay away. At least Rick was going to the game. He’d promised to tell her the details.

  She laid her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. She may be missing the game, but she could take satisfaction that they finally had a person of interest who may actually be Eli’s murderer. So much of Paltrow’s story didn’t add up. The lies regarding the flight to Bangor two days before the murder, the perfect motive, his suspicious behavior, his willingness to run Cammie over in order to escape, Lehane’s assertion that Eddie had a temper. The savage shooting of a man close to death certainly pointed to someone with an axe to grind against Eli. She could easily picture Eddie standing over a helpless Eli and shooting him point blank, laughing while pulling the trigger. How he must have felt to obliterate the man who’d almost taken away the one thing that made him something in other men’s eyes. No matter how she looked at it, all the pieces were adding up to a very viable suspect. Including the locking up of Eli’s home.

  Only an outsider like Paltrow wouldn’t have known about the townspeople’s habit of leaving their doors unlocked. Despite all the years Eli had been away, once he’d returned, he too left his doors unlocked. It was entirely feasible that once Paltrow shot Eli, he’d automatically locked the door before escaping into the night. It was also entirely feasible that, as an admitted hockey fan, he’d taken the trophy, and the picture of Eli and Cammie in their hockey uniforms as his own personal trophies, much as serial killers removed something from their victims to relive their moment of death over and over again.

  Then there was Carolyn. She’d asked Rick to call Carolyn’s office to find out if they knew anything about her whereabouts. He was told Carolyn was in Portland on a business trip and should have returned that morning. Although it sounded plausible, Cammie remained skeptical. How convenient that this trip to Portland would come up at the moment she’s wanted for questioning in Eli’s murder. Well, sooner or later, she was going to have to come home. And when she did, Cammie would be waiting.

  Two persons of interest. Two persons acting incredibly suspicious.

  So she took her painkiller, and waited to sink into a blissful oblivion, with no more thoughts of hockey games, Jace, Twin Ponds or that bastard Paltrow.

  Cammie may have agreed to forgo the hockey game, but she’d be damned if she didn’t go to Eli’s funeral. It was set for next Tuesday evening, and it was all the townspeople were talking about. That and the fact that the Night Hawks had won their game against the Snow Owls. The next morning at work, Rick acted out the last two knuckle gnawing minutes of the third period. With broad gesticulations and imitations of the players gliding up and down the ice, he recounted the evening.

  “There were two minutes left on the clock and we were down by two. I really thought we were done for. Then Hank took a feed from Scottie and managed to squeak one in past the Snow Owls goalie. I thought the place was going to explode. Now we had a minute and a half left. The score was tied. Nobody wanted overtime. We wanted this thing decided one way or another. The seconds ticked down. We were all on the edge of our seats. Gawd, if we didn’t need a miracle. Tempers were high on the ice, and there was a bit of a scrum near the penalty box. Of course Jace was in the middle of it. I still don’t know how he did it, but he managed to steal the puck from the Owls’ best player and there was a sudden breakaway. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the screaming and yelling down at your cabin. We all held our breaths. This was do or die with 58 seconds left on the clock. And Jace is skating for all he’s worth.” Rick smiled. “Jeez, if he isn’t beautiful to watch.” He then began to imitate Jace’s graceful glides, holding an invisible hockey stick in his hand, and moving an imaginary puck up and down Cammie’s office. “Now it’s just him and the goalie. The goalie’s already rattled by letting in Hank’s shot. Jace feints to the right, then the left, then to the right and he scores! He fucking scores! Everybody went insane!”

  Rick fell to the chair in an exhaused heap. “It was pure magic.”

  Cammie listened, happy they’d won the game, happy Jace had scored the winning goal, and pissed she hadn’t been there to witness it.

  Still, there was an unexpected bonus to the victory against the Snow Owls.

  And the announcement regarding Pa
ltrow, and the reward for information on his whereabouts.

  To avoid the reporters who were now more ravenous than ever, Cammie decided to eat lunch early. Thanks to Doc’s medication, the cold packs and the bandage wrapped tightly around her ankle, the throbbing had dwindled, and her knuckles didn’t resemble King Kong’s anymore. She had Rick create a diversion outside and quietly slipped out the back door, using the by now familiar circuitous route to arrive at Zee’s.

  There were a few people inside the restaurant. To her surprise, she was greeted with the cordiality of old. She plopped down on a stool in front of Zee, and stared at him in amazement.

  “Are you kidding me?” she whispered to him. “We win against the Snow Owls and suddenly I’m no longer persona non grata?”

  Zee nodded sagely as he polished the bar glasses. “That and the fact that you have another suspect for Eli’s murder. That reward shows you’re serious. Stroke of genius, if you ask me.”

  “Still no word on Paltrow though.”

  Zee shrugged. “The point is, people are seeing you trying your best to come up with another scenario to explain what happened to Eli. They appreciate your efforts.”

  Cammie started to say something, then quickly shut her mouth. Zee leaned over and rested his hand on hers. “Jace will come round, you’ll see.”

  She averted her eyes. It scared her sometimes how well Zee knew her.

  After ordering and polishing off her burger in record time, she paid the bill and was about to leave when she felt someone at her elbow. Turning, she saw Mike Endicott.

  Mike was the local attorney. He’d once worked in Boston as a corporate attorney, gotten burnt out by the long hours, and moved his wife and family to Twin Ponds in the hopes of finding a quieter, happier life. He quickly became a jack of all trades type of attorney, handling small civil cases, estate planning and corporate filings for the myriad of small businesses in the area. He was tall, with sandy hair, light brown eyes and in his mid-40s. Down to earth and sociable, it was obvious he felt he’d made the right decision to relocate. Twin Ponds’ laconic lifestyle fit him perfectly.

  “Good morning, Zee, Sheriff. Emmy told me I’d find you here. I was hoping I could have a word with you.”

  Cammie’s eyebrow went up. Since her move back to Twin Ponds, she’d only spoken to Mike to say hello. His request to talk to her aroused her curiosity.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “Sure, sure. Why don’t we go to my office where we can talk?”

  She studied his face. “What’s this all about, Mike?”

  “I think it best if we wait until we get to the office.”

  Instincts on full alert, Cammie hopped off the stool, threw on her parka and started towards the back of the restaurant.

  “Hey, you’re going the wrong way,” Mike called out.

  She jerked her head in the direction of HQ. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the zoo outside the station. Unless you want to end up on the evening news, you’d better follow me.”

  They went up and down back streets, ending up at the rear of Mike’s office, which was located a few doors down from HQ.

  “This cloak and dagger stuff must be getting to you,” he replied as he took out a key and unlocked the back door with shivering hands.

  “Tell me about it.”

  They entered into a small storage space where Mike’s secretary kept the office supplies neatly placed on shelving that took up two walls of the room. There were also file cabinets and large bottles of water stored for the water bubbler located in the waiting room. They exited the storage space, took a left and entered Mike’s tastefully decorated office.

  There was a long credenza along the wall on which stood several photographs of Mike, his pretty wife Sarah and their three children. Prints of various scenes depicting both the Boston and Maine harbors hung on the walls. Against the far wall, next to a bookcase filled with law books, was a small round table with two chairs.

  “Why don’t you sit here while I get the file?”

  The file? By now, Cammie was burning with impatience. She took off her parka and draped it over the chair, then watched as Mike went to his large oak desk and picked up a bulky manila folder.

  They sat down opposite each other at the small round table.

  “So what’s this all about?” she asked.

  “Two days before Eli died, he came to see me. He wanted to change his will.”

  Cammie’s mind raced through several scenarios all at once. The will had been temporarily put on the back burner as Emmy worked on finding out more information about Eddie Paltrow. It had never occurred to her to check with Mike, believing that if Eli had left a will, it would have been drawn up by some high powered attorney in Los Angeles, or Chicago. Depending on what was bequeathed, and to whom, she’d finally find out who would benefit the most from his death. She might even find out more about the mysterious Helios Inc. Eli had been pouring money into. Hoping this was the break she’d been waiting for, she unconsciously leaned forward.

  “I would have come to you sooner, but I needed to file certain papers with the probate court and make sure everything was up to snuff.” He suddenly took Cammie’s hand and shook it. “Congratulations, Sheriff.”

  She gave him a bewildered look. “Huh?”

  “I’m happy to tell you that Eli left you $500,000.”

  Cammie stared at him in disbelief as her heart ground to a halt. “Wha--?” was all she could manage.

  “Eli was very adamant about this change. He insisted that you get this money.” He opened the file and took out an envelope. “He wanted me to give you this. I believe it’s a note he wrote you.” He handed her the envelope, then let his hand rest on her arm.

  “I know about the cancer. He told me all about it. You don’t have to worry. I’ve kept that quiet. Not even my wife knows.” He shook his head. “To think that someone would shoot a dying man. That’s just despicable. I didn’t know him very well, but from what I saw, he was a decent human being.” He ruffled the papers in the file. “All I need from you are a couple of signatures and where you want that money deposited, once the will clears probate.”

  Somehow, in the midst of her stunned numbness, she found her voice. “Are there any other beneficiaries?”

  “He left money to several cancer hospitals and, you’ll be happy to know, he left $75,000 to the Night Hawks for new equipment. He told me about your days playing together, so I know you’ll appreciate his generous gesture. Tell me, do you still bat the puck around?”

  She ignored his question as she struggled to wrap her mind about the unexpected turn of events. “You said he wanted to change his will. Did he take anybody out? Lower their inheritances?”

  Mike shook his head. “I know what you’re looking for, but you’re not going to find it here, I’m afraid. The only change Eli made was including you in the will.”

  Cammie sat back with a thud. She was surprised when she heard Mike chuckling. “I have to say, Sheriff, you’re the first person I’ve ever met who looks depressed over the news they’ve just inherited half a million dollars.” He paused, then added, “But I totally understand.”

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “I’ve heard the talk around town; all the crazy scenarios people are coming up with to explain Eli’s death, including the one regarding your need for revenge for whatever happened years ago between you and Eli. Then there’s--” He left the sentence hang.

  “My need to cover up my alleged affair with Eli by pinning it on Jace.”

  Mike looked embarrassed. “So you’ve heard them too.” She nodded. “This money isn’t going to help you with any of that, is it?”

  “I think it’s going to make things a whole lot worse.”

  Just when, thanks to her press conference of the day before, her reputation was resurrecting itself.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  By the time Cammie left Mike’s office, her dismay had settled into a large lump in the pit of her stomach. She stoo
d outside in the cold alleyway, the weight of the news regarding the inheritance matching the weight of the envelope she had shoved into her pocket. Although there were a thousand things to do back at her office, she needed time alone. To digest what had just taken place, but more importantly, to read the note Eli had left her. She dreaded opening the envelope, but knew she had no choice. For better or worse, it contained Eli’s last words to her. If she didn’t read them, the guilt would eat away at her. There was also the blind hope that he might have written something that would help her discover his murderer. Whatever he wrote, she knew it would be emotional. Her office was not the place to break down.

  In order to outsmart the reporters, she’d taken to parking her Explorer a block away behind an old, unused garbage dumpster. She turned towards the vehicle, and was soon heading out of town.

  The sun had finally broken through the grey clouds, its bright rays mocking the glum mood Cammie had fallen into. Her mind replayed the scene in Mike’s office. A memory fell into place. Taking out her cell phone, she speed dialed a number. A moment later Lehane picked up.

  “Any particular reason you chose not to tell me I was one of Eli’s beneficiaries?”

  There was a long pause on the other end. “Eli told me he was thinking about it, but I didn’t know he’d gone through with it. I couldn’t very well tell you he was leaving you $100,000, then not have it happen.”

  “Eli told you he was leaving me $100,000?” Cammie asked, the wheels quietly turning in her head.

  “Yes. Once again, it all came down to him tying up loose ends. I hope you take his bequest in the manner in which it was offered. He really did care about you, Cammie. This may not have been the best way for him to show it, but it was all he had.”

  Cammie hung up the phone and remained pensive as she tried to put as much distance between herself and Twin Ponds. She didn’t know where she was going, but as if guided by an invisible hand, possibly even Eli’s, she found herself pulling off towards Waban Pond. It was here where it had all started between her and Eli all those years ago. Teenagers who’d already seen the underbelly of life, trying to lose themselves in a sport where the only thing they had to worry about was hitting a small black object into a net.