“In case you don’t know,” Carol said, “for the first time in forever, we have a decent chance to fill our restaurants and stave off bankruptcy. This bad publicity is sure to kill lots of Aspen businesses.”
I almost suggested she could fill her restaurant by serving better food at lower prices, but I wasn’t that stupid. “We’re doing everything possible to figure out who’s behind these killings. How about you let me get off the phone and get back to that?”
“Just shut your filthy mouth about murder, and everything will be fine,” Hickok said. “People are already circulating a recall petition against you, you know?”
After Hal’s threat, I’d asked Skip about the chances of a recall. He’d told me it was impossible until I’d been in office for six months. “Nope, hadn’t heard. Too busy doing my job. Goodbye, Carol.”
After I hung up, reality bit me hard in the ass. I was intensely loathed by this town’s movers and shakers. How had I made so many enemies without even trying?
-o-o-o-
I was still annoyed about Hickok when Randy asked me to come to his office to meet an old army buddy of his. The guy was currently a senior muckety-muck with the state patrol in Denver.
Much as I hated pressing the flesh with strangers, I recognized the need for good relationships with other law enforcement agencies. Our office was too small to take a go-it-alone approach.
I met the state trooper and was surprised to find out he’d brought his blonde, fifteen-year-old granddaughter specifically to meet me. They seemed like nice folks.
He grinned at me. “You’re a rare duck, Hank. Since Melissa was a little girl, I’ve been telling her she could be president one day. Now I can say with a straight face that she could become something even better—the head of one of our nation’s law enforcement agencies. We need many more women in our profession.”
He was right on target. Choked me up for a moment. Maybe because I’d just been chewed out by one of Aspen’s powerful women. Carol would be more than happy to get rid of me.
I spent a few minutes chatting with the man and his granddaughter, and they left. I was about to do the same, when Randy said, “I think I know how McCain felt when he watched Obama take the oath of office. I’m sure crusty old John would’ve preferred to win that election, but he could be proud of his country. It’d been able to look beyond the color of a man’s skin while choosing a president.”
Randy’s voice cracked at the end. Mine was hoarse when I said, “Thanks for bringing that to mind. I’d hit a low point from talking to Hickok. She really hates my guts, doesn’t she?”
He lifted his hands, palms up, as though not sure what to say. “It’s obviously not because you’re female, and I doubt that it’s because you’re gay. It’s just that they see you standing in the way of them making more money than Midas. If it’s any comfort, they’re almost as mad at me for not reining you in.” He laughed. “As if I could. Anyway, let’s get the bastard who’s killing these young ladies.”
Not for the first time, I was grateful Randy had stayed on. I gave him a thumbs up and headed back to my cubicle.
-o-o-o-
At the end of the day, I got a call from Dr. Dan. “We got a hit on one relative’s DNA. CBI just let me know. The murder victim Manny found in Glenwood Springs was from Telluride. Alexandra Matthews.” He gave me her address.
“Thanks for the news. We’ll follow up. She was a long way from home.”
Telluride was far, over two hundred miles away, and it didn’t escape my notice that both victims had come from the two Colorado ski towns most like Aspen. Whatever the reason, we needed to dive into Alexandra’s background quickly to see how she was so unlucky. I asked Skip and Linda to stay an extra two hours with me to find out what we could before everyone in Telluride left their offices for the day.
A quick online search told me Alexandra was lovely and went by the nickname Lexi. She was a real estate agent in Telluride but lived in Ophir, an old mining town about ten miles south of Telluride. Like here, relatively few folks who worked in Telluride could afford to live there.
I learned from the San Miguel County Sheriff’s Office that Lexi’s parents, who lived in Grand Junction, had donated the DNA used to determine Lexi’s identity. The GJ police chief went to visit them and confirmed their darkest fears. That was, without a doubt, the worst part of this job. We regularly destroyed all hope a family had that they might see their loved one again.
Chapter 8
Early in the morning, I headed out to Telluride, hoping to find out how and why Lexi had been grabbed from so far away. The killer had passed up lots of lovely young women who lived closer.
Telluride sat at the bottom of the deep box canyon that was surrounded by spectacular mountain peaks and forests. At the closed end, a dramatic waterfall fell hundreds of feet. Each time I visited, I was stunned. The whole area was drop-dead gorgeous. I’d even brought Willow here for a weekend getaway.
My first stop on this visit was the real estate office where Lexi had worked. Her fifty-something boss named Nancy wore a sharp navy business suit and short blonde hair. She had bloodshot eyes. “I almost didn’t come into work today,” she said to me in her office. “I got a call late last night from some reporter at Aspen Public Radio with the news. Of course, I’d known something was wrong on Monday morning when Lexi didn’t show up for work. She was devoted to her job, and very good at it. Wouldn’t voluntarily let her clients down.”
“Yeah, about those folks,” I said, “I’m going to need a list of anybody who’s contacted her for the first time over the last month. I suspect she was first targeted online.”
The boss’s face pinched. “We treasure our clients’ privacy.”
“I’ll be happy to respect it, too, and I’ll also need full access to her emails over the last month.”
The woman’s brow furrowed. She began to speak then stopped herself. “I’m trusting you to keep this information fully confidential. Actually, I’m trusting Rachel Woods. She vouched for you.”
Not being the social type, I didn’t have a wide circle of friends. But I’d known Rachel since we were both kids. We’d grown up together in Gunnison then parted ways. She’d married a real estate developer. Only after her marriage failed did she decide she preferred sleeping with the ladies.
“Oh,” I said, “how do you know Rachel? I haven’t seen her in over a year.”
“She’s an accountant in the firm that handles our company’s books. She’s very proud of you for winning your election.”
That was always nice to hear. “Tell her I said hi when you see her. But back to this nasty business. Was Lexi romantically involved with anyone recently?”
The woman shook her head. “She had a steady boyfriend until six months ago. He broke up with her and moved to Hawaii. She told me earlier in the summer that she was too busy for romance.”
“Was she active socially? I know, in Aspen, the real estate agents constantly mingle.”
“Sure,” Nancy said. “Lexi was very popular. Lots of friends in the area.”
“It’d help me if you could give me the names of the dozen people she was closest to.”
Nancy wrote down the names and phone numbers. “These are the friends I’ve seen her with most often. Ursula works here, two doors down on the right.”
The boss called a secretary into her office and told her to download all of Lexi’s work emails for the last month. She also called the company that provided their phone system and authorized me to receive a log of all of Lexi’s calls for the same time period.
When I got that information, I forwarded it to Linda.
Then I dropped in on Ursula. She had the same bloodshot eyes as Nancy. It turned out, Ursula and Lexi had attended many parties together. Ursula had been mentoring Lexi for the last two years.
“I’m looking for a guy who probably would’ve first made contact over the last month or so. He constantly needs new women. Had you see
n Lexi with anyone new lately, particularly someone seemed strange?”
She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “The last month? Since Thanksgiving, business has been crazy. Lots of people are returning for the first time since March, and some stayed away for years. Plenty of catching up to do. The snow’s been fabulous. People are excited about buying a ski chalet or condo. Both of us have been working insane hours.”
She wasn’t telling me anything useful. I raised my index finger to stop her. “You know how you get that tingly sense sometimes when a guy is looking a little too long or too often? Anybody like that come to mind?”
“Some guy paying extra attention to Lexi?” she asked. “You’re kidding, right? She was a knockout, fun-loving, and loved to listen to people. Guys couldn’t get enough of her, of course, and women felt an immediate kinship.”
Ursula began to cry, overwhelmed by her loss, but she wasn’t helping me find her friend’s killer. “The guy I’m looking for is a predator. He’ll gaze at her like a hawk about to swoop down on a rabbit. Did you notice anybody like that?”
She froze for a second. “Maybe. About ten days ago, she and I scored invites to a party at Tom Cruise’s mansion. Probably two hundred people there. We had a great time. I’ve already sold a house in Telluride Mountain Village to someone I met at that party.”
The woman had a knack for wandering off the subject, and I resisted the urge to throttle her. “Tell me about the guy who gave you the willies.”
“Right, sorry. We worked the room separately until she texted me. Wanted to tag-team a Nissan senior executive from Tennessee. He was part of a group of five sales execs here for a company meeting. He couldn’t take his eyes off her boobs.”
I circled with my finger to tell her to get to the point.
“On the edge of that group, a man was listening—but really, he was staring at Lexi, too. Most of the people were paying attention to the senior executive, who was telling funny stories as he draped an arm around Lexi’s shoulders. But the guy I’m thinking of kept his focus on my friend. Finally, he whispered something in her ear. She slipped her card out of her purse and gave it to him while the Nissan guy hugged her tighter. Then, the strange guy melted away. Lexi and I double-teamed the top Nissan guy. He soon had his free arm around my waist. Lexi and I stayed glued to him all night long.”
I stayed focused on the target. “Describe the guy who melted away.”
“Middle-aged, the wrinkles around his eyes told me that. Most of our clients are at least middle-aged. Damned few younger people have the bucks it takes to buy into this market. He was a white guy, tall with dark brown hair and a mustache. Wore a pale yellow, long-sleeved Polo dress shirt and khaki slacks.”
“Would you be willing to sit down with a police artist?”
“Willing for sure, but a waste of time. I didn’t pay hardly any attention to him. I was focused like a laser on the senior exec. Two days later, she sold him a twelve-million-dollar home in Telluride Mountain Village, but we split the commission.”
Fighting frustration, I asked, “Did you see the tall guy again after that party?”
She shook her head.
“Did he seem connected to anybody else there?”
Ursula rocked her head side-to-side as though uncertain. “Not that I noticed.”
I could feel an important opportunity slipping away but Ursula had been too busy making the big bucks. She hadn’t noticed the danger to her friend. Maybe Linda would be able to track the tall guy with a mustache down from an email or a phone call after the party.
“Ursula, could you check your calendar and tell me the exact date of the event at Tom Cruise’s house?”
She did. It was nine days ago. “Terrific. If Lexi were going to meet a client for a business meal, where was she likely to go?”
“She preferred breakfast meetings because they’re cheaper. Loved the New Sheridan Hotel for sure. Lunch or dinner? Harder to say. There’s a new Thai place on Aspen Street she liked a lot. Or Italian. Everybody loves Italian. She’d go to Fortissimo on Colorado Avenue near Pine.”
After thanking Ursula for the potential lead, I hurried to the New Sheridan Hotel. The city fathers in Telluride were fanatics about maintaining the look of an old mining town. The New Sheridan turned out to be an old Victorian hotel that had been lovingly restored.
The hotel’s dining room was easy to find because the diners peered out through large windows onto the town’s main drag. When I reached the hostess, I flashed my badge and asked for the manager. The room smelled like gardenias. That was intoxicating. The flowers floated in bowls on all the tables.
A moment later, a slim, white-haired woman hurried up, talking on the phone. Something about a broken washing machine.
When she hung up, she said, “How can we help the police?”
I didn’t bother to correct her and told her about Lexi possibly having breakfast there within the last eight days.
The manager opened up a large book at the hostess table and began flipping pages. “Yeah, I remember Tom’s party. Quite a bash. We prepared many of the hors d’oeuvres.”
She scanned the entries in the book. “Here, two days after the party. Lexi plus one guest at table 6, her favorite spot. Felix was her server.” She looked at the hostess. “Is he here?”
She nodded. “Probably in the kitchen.”
Before we headed back there, I mentioned the guy’s description. “Sound familiar?”
They both rolled their eyes. The manager said, “Sounds like half of the male guests we see. Let’s see if Felix can remember any details.”
He was a middle-aged Hispanic guy with an easy smile. I explained how I was trying to find the person who ate breakfast with Lexi a week ago.
“Yes, I heard about her,” he said. “Tragic. She was so much fun.”
The manager nodded, and a tear slipped out of one eye.
“Can you tell me who she ate breakfast with?”
“A tall, slim man. Brown mustache. Middle-aged, maybe older. Wore a Broncos cap. Wore a white oxford shirt.”
He obviously had a good memory, and the tall man sounded like the guy I was after. “Did he, by any chance, pick up the check?”
“No, Lexi always paid. Tax deduction, she said.”
Despite lots of other questions, I got nothing helpful. The hotel did have security cameras, but they overwrote their data files every four days.
On the plus side, Felix was happy to sit down with a sketch artist. The town police had someone on call for the few times when they needed one. Even better, the woman happened to know Lexi and dropped everything to help us.
By noon, I had both a penciled drawing of the suspect and a watercolor. A copy store ran off two hundred copies of each image. They also converted them to PDFs and emailed them to me.
-o-o-o-
I spent most of the afternoon in Telluride distributing the pictures and talking to the others on the boss’s list who knew Lexi well. Couldn’t find anyone besides Ursula and Felix who’d seen my suspect.
After dark, I headed home. Before I lost my cell signal, I got a call from Jasmine at Aspen Public Radio. “Hey, Hank, I hear you’ve identified the latest victim.”
I had hours to go before I could get back. Didn’t want to stop and talk. But I hoped she’d publicize the pictures of the suspect.
“Don’t have a lot of time to chat,” I said. “I spent all day in Telluride speaking to friends of the victim, Lexi Matthews. Just finished and on my way out. Could lose my signal at any moment. Here’s the key takeaway, I have a drawing and watercolor of a person who might have information about the case. Would you mind putting them on your website?”
“Of course,” Jasmine said. “Who is this person?”
I didn’t want to get into details about the case until I was sure the guy had some connection to Lexi’s disappearance. “Just someone I’d love to speak with.”
Jasmine wasn’t going to let me of
f the line easy. I parried her questions for a few more minutes until her voice vanished. Luckily, I’d already spoken to Linda and asked her to distribute the pictures to her contact list of newshounds. With any luck, one of them would come through for me. Maybe Angelina again. Wasn’t a fan, but I loved her Facebook friends.
-o-o-o-
Several hours later, I climbed toward the snowy summit of McClure Pass. Out in the middle of nowhere. This otherwise nondescript place was important because it marked the southwestern edge of Pitkin County. Only fifty miles to home. I whizzed past the county line marker, barely visible on the side of the road.
Crack! I was yanked out of my reverie.
A bullet hit my windshield in the center. Muzzle flash on the right. Someone on a bluff above the highway had opened fire.
A blast of adrenaline numbed me for an instant. My whole body shuddered.
Couldn’t slow despite not being able to see through the spiderwebbed glass. Had to get farther away.
Two more shots rang out. One hit my right rear tire. It deflated instantly, pulling my SUV onto the snowy shoulder on the right side of the road.
My SUV careened onto a turnout covered with ice and snow. Beyond it, the ground dropped away. The tire shredded and my brakes slowed me. No more shots.
The ice made it impossible to steer. My SUV hurled toward the cliff. No guardrail.
It finally stopped. Couldn’t breathe. If I’d been speeding, my SUV would’ve gone off into the wild black yonder.
I grabbed my short shotgun from its rack and hopped out. My fake foot slipped on the icy ground. Banged my knee, scrambled around the door, and ducked behind the front of the vehicle. Couldn’t see anyone on the bluff. I heard an engine start over that way. A moment later, a dark SUV entered the highway a quarter mile behind me and tore off southwest. The direction I’d come.
But was there another shooter?
After listening for a moment and hearing only silence, I decided no. Scrambled back into my rig and grabbed the radio mic. “This is Hank. Shots fired at me. I’m at the top of McClure Pass. Shooter appears to be driving at high speed southwest toward Paonia.”
Sacrifice Page 7
