Grady raised an eyebrow, then turned stoic. “Artie was just a guy I knew. Not really a friend. We are considering every possible angle. Now back to my question. What all did you handle?”
Grudgingly, I retraced my steps through the house, explaining everything I had done. I even mentioned the broken bookend, the magazines on the coffee table, the pillows, the bedspread, all of it.
Finally, it was my turn to ask a question. “Besides being strangled with his camera strap, it looked like Artie had been hit on the head. You said you found the murder weapon. What was it?”
Grady tapped his pen on a stack of folders. “I can’t tell you that. It’s part of the investigation.”
“What about his car? Have you found it?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because Nancy and I noticed it wasn’t parked out in front of the Boswells’ house. Maybe whoever killed him stole his car. Have you thought about that?”
“Yeah, but we found the car parked in front of Becker’s house. The keys were on the floorboard.” He hesitated, then asked, “Your prints won’t be in the car, will they?”
“I just told you that I never saw a car. Are you losing your hearing along with your mind?” Oops. Grady was on my last nerve. Not only that, but I hadn’t eaten and I was getting hangry. I apologized and stood up. “If you have more questions for me, I’ll be at my thriving photography studio.”
“Don’t worry. I know where you live.”
Don’t worry? Not only was Grady the most inept law official I’d ever encountered, he was the husband of my high school nemesis. I could just imagine Sherry whispering in his ear to find something to arrest me for every chance she got.
But worrying wasn’t going to help my situation. Action was. I knew I couldn’t trust Grady to find the killer, which meant I’d need to do it myself. It was a small town after all. And I had the perfect sidekick in mind.
I just hoped Jake wasn’t getting back with his old girlfriend.
Chapter 6
Jake Faro and I had been classmates growing up, although I hadn’t paid him much attention in school at all. He was quiet and studious. I was gregarious and popular. It wasn’t until I moved back to town a few months ago that I realized what a catch he was. That’s also when Nancy told me that he’d had a secret crush on me in high school.
I knew he had dated during the fifteen or so years I’d been away; I just never imagined he’d had a serious girlfriend. And in all the commotion over Artie’s murder, I had forgotten to ask Nancy about Liv Olsen.
Since we officially started dating, Jake and I had been taking it slow. That’s what you do when you think a relationship might turn into something real and permanent. With this new woman in town, though, I wondered if it was time to speed things up a little. It’s not that I didn’t trust Jake, but not knowing the history between him and “Miss Norway of the Southwest” had me worried. If anyone knew how past relationships could screw up the present, it was me.
When I left the sheriff’s office, I drove straight home. I was so hungry I could eat my own cooking. Luckily, I didn’t have to. I made a cup of ramen noodles and drank hot coffee. As my blood sugar rose, so did my anxiousness to see Jake. I wanted to tell him about the murder. Hopefully, he would bring up the dinner plans with his mother. However, I wouldn’t hesitate to mention it myself if I had to. I had learned early on that Jake could get hyper focused on work when he had a big project.
It was almost one o’clock by the time I finished eating. My afternoon was clear except for the Chavis twins coming in after school for graduation pictures. From what I’d heard, they were both in the running for valedictorian. Talk about sibling rivalry.
Somehow Cricket seemed to know I was heading to Jake’s house down the street because she ran out the door and sat waiting by Mrs. Attwood’s large Douglas fir. I swear Cricket could read my mind. Sister Sophia, the psychic, thought Cricket might be channeling my grandmother. Regardless, that crazy cat seemed to have the same protective yet bossy personality as Gran. Maybe I should visit Sister Sophia again to see if she knew anything about Artie’s murder. I still hadn’t told anyone that I had gone to see her, not even Nancy. Jake, of course, would think I was nuts. He was such a pragmatist.
I knocked on his door, hoping he’d hear me from his office in the den. When he didn’t come to the door, I texted him that I was on his doorstep. Sure enough, he opened the door right away. It amazed me how just the sight of him could zap my breath. Standing there unshaven in a well-worn sweatshirt and tennis shoes, he smiled at me with those warm eyes. I could almost feel the firmness of his chest and strength of his arms even before he hugged me.
Not wanting to be left out, Cricket sauntered in, rubbing against his leg.
After releasing me from his embrace, he reached down and scratched her head. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
“Unexpected but good, right?”
“Of course. Always.” He led me to the den and plopped down next to me on the sofa. “Sorry I haven’t called. This new case is a doozy.”
As usual, the TV in the den was tuned to a news station and muted. His desk was covered in computer equipment and stacks of paper. The problem with working from home, as far as I could see, was that you never left “the office.” I was determined not to let Jake turn into one of those workaholics who ignored his relationships. Or personal hygiene.
When he put his arm across my shoulders, I leaned back. “Um, when was the last time you showered?”
He quickly pulled away. “What day is it?”
“Monday.”
“What month?”
I poked him in the ribs. “You really need to come up for air every once in a while. Have you heard the latest news?”
He shook his head.
“I thought you monitored the police scanner.”
“Not today. I’ve been listening to audio files. Why? Did something happen?”
“You could say that. Do you know Artie Becker?”
“He’s that photographer who takes pictures for Nancy.”
“Right. He was murdered and I was the one who found him.”
Jake’s face went dark as he listened to all the gory details. Yes, I embellished a little for effect. That was the born storyteller in me coming out. He let me talk without interruption, something I can never seem to do when others talk. I showed him the ink stains on my nails from getting fingerprinted.
Finally, he squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry that happened. How’s Nancy? Should I call her?”
“That would probably be a good idea. I’m surprised she hasn’t called you already.”
He made a face. “Actually, she did but I ignored her calls. I assumed she was calling about dinner tomorrow night.”
Ah-ha. “Dinner?” I asked sheepishly. “Are you two going out?”
“Of course. So are you, remember?”
I just looked at him with my best “what are you talking about” face.
“Tomorrow night. Lorenzo’s. To meet my mother.” He slapped his forehead. “Geez. Did I forget to tell you?”
“You forgot to tell me.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said earnestly. “You can make it, right? She really wants to meet you.”
“Of course. I’m dying to meet her, too. You don’t think she’ll look down on me now that I’m a suspected murderer, do you? It wouldn’t be the first time.” Thoughts of my failed engagement to David back in Maycroft crept into my brain.
“She’ll love you.” Jake turned serious again. “I don’t want to be an alarmist, but I’m concerned about Sheriff Grady. I’m beginning to think he couldn’t find a killer in a Stephen King novel. We need to do something about this.”
“I was hoping you would say that. I need a sidekick to help me find whoever killed Artie Becker. How hard could it be in such a small town? I know you and I didn’t do it. Nancy’s innocent. That’s almost half the town right there.” I touched the dimple on his chin, hoping to make him smile.
He didn’t.
I tried to sound reassuring for his sake as well as mine. “Look, Grady says he’s just trying to eliminate me as a suspect.”
“And you believe him?”
“At this point, yes. And I have my suspicions about who may be guilty.”
“Brett Boswell,” Jake said flatly.
“Yes! How did you guess?”
“I know Brett, that’s how. He’s a narcissistic troublemaker. He’s no better than a con man.”
It wasn’t like Jake to be so condescending. “Surely Brett’s not that bad.”
“Have you seen the way he treats his parents? He’d cheat them out of house and home if he had the chance.”
I checked the time. I had a few hours until my appointment with the Chavis twins. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s drive up to the ski resort and have a chat with Brett. Find out where he was this morning. If we wait, Grady may get to him first and he might clam up.”
Jake went to his computer, typed something, and then turned off all three monitors. “Let’s do it. We can’t trust Grady to get this right.”
He grabbed his jacket and my arm. “Cricket, stay here. Guard the house.”
She raised her head off the back of the sofa and flexed her claws.
I grinned at her. “Nothing like a good watch cat.”
Chapter 7
The Snowbird Ski Resort was only fifteen miles from town, but it took almost half an hour to drive up the steep, winding roads. Jake was a careful driver, and I felt safe with him behind the wheel.
As we drove, he filled me in on Brett Boswell’s background. According to Jake, Brett had dropped out of college to pursue his dream of becoming a professional snowboarder. He wanted to be the next Shaun White. But an accident on a practice run left him with chronic back pain and no chance to turn pro. Although it was obvious Jake couldn’t stand the guy, his backstory tugged at my heart. Losing a chance at your dreams can be devastating.
Then Jake got to the good stuff. It turned out that Brett “Badman” Boswell got his nickname for his antics off the slopes as well as on. Not only was he a gigolo who tried to hustle rich women out of their fortunes, he’d have a go at anyone else he set his eyes on—single or married. Coupled with his disregard for his loving parents, I got a picture of Brett Boswell that was anything but flattering.
The last time I’d been skiing was at my high school senior party. I remember Paul getting “handsy” with me on the ski lift, so I pushed him to the ground when we got off and spent the rest of the day hanging out with my girlfriends. We made up two days later, but it only lasted another month. Relationships were less complicated back then, although the younger me didn’t know it at the time.
We parked and headed into the main lodge. Bone-tired skiers sat in comfy chairs by the fire, sipping hot chocolate and staring out the large picture window at the slopes. A couple of twenty-something girls sat on stools behind the ticket counter, playing on their phones. A guy in a t-shirt and cargo shorts huddled near the cash register, presumably doing paperwork. He looked vaguely familiar.
As we approached, he looked up and smiled. “Hey. Here for gondola tickets? You two don’t look ready to hit the slopes.”
I hoped he was basing that on our attire and not on the fact that I had packed on my freshman fifteen again in the past few months. I pulled my jacket tighter around me. “Actually, we’re looking for someone. Brett Boswell.”
He glanced at his Google watch. “He’s giving a lesson. He was supposed to be done by now, but he showed up late. Again.”
The exasperation in the guy’s voice was obvious. I asked, “Again? Is he usually late?”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just that if you can’t count on your best friend to cover for you, who can you count on? You know what I mean?”
It seemed Counter Guy was in a talkative mood. Maybe he knew why Brett had been late. “I know what you mean. So, why was he late?” Subtle, Wendy.
“Beats me. Said he overslept. The one day I needed him here early...”
The last part was said more to himself than me.
Jake stuck out his hand. “You’re Alex Wright. Am I right?”
The guy looked surprised. “I am.” He shook Jake’s hand.
“I’m Jake Faro. I believe you know my sister, Nancy.”
He bobbed his head. “Oh yeah. Sold me my house. Great girl. How’s she doing?”
“She’s good. But here’s the thing. We really need to talk to Brett. Is there a chance you can track him down?”
“Is this about a snowboarding lesson? I can schedule that for you.”
“No, it’s a personal matter. We just need a few minutes of his time.” Jake had slipped into his ex-FBI demeanor. It worked.
“I guess it would be okay. I’ll give you passes to take the gondola up to the first lookout point. When you exit, ask the guy there to radio Brett. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
“Thanks, Alex.” Jake gave the guy a “bro shake” and took the tickets.
“Tell Nancy I said hi,” Alex added. “By the way, is she still single?”
“Yep.” Jake waved and led me out the door.
“That was an odd question for someone wearing a wedding ring, don’t you think?” I asked when we got outside.
“He hasn’t been married that long. Maybe it’s just an old habit.”
We forged our way to the gondola area, our shoes crunching and crackling through the snow. Luckily, I was wearing boots. Jake’s sneakers offered less protection from the slushy, cold ice.
When Tyler and I were kids, our parents used to take us up on the gondolas once a year in the winter. It was a pricey excursion for a young family of four. We would go up at dusk when you could see the lights from town miles away from the mountaintop. My mother would bring a thermos of hot chocolate with little Styrofoam cups. She would pretend to have forgotten the marshmallows, which would then magically appear from inside our father’s heavy wool coat. My parents were more of the summer type. As far as I knew, neither ever skied except on the lake at the Waterfall Lodge they owned.
Being here with Jake felt special. Maybe someday we would make our own family memories here.
“So do you think Brett was late to work because he was at the house killing Artie?”
Whoosh. That brought my brain back to the present in a hurry. Way to kill a perfectly good daydream. “Could be. What are we going to ask him exactly?”
“This guy is a sleaze. Let me do the talking. If he’s lying, I’ll know it.”
I wasn’t used to this intense side of Jake. It was sexy yet scary at the same time.
We got off at the lookout point. I walked around to the rail while Jake got the guy with the walkie-talkie to radio Brett. The view was breathtaking. I spotted the town square and could barely make out the sign in front of my studio. Why hadn’t I brought my camera? That reminded me that it was still in the back of my Jeep.
Brett finally appeared and walked up to the gondola platform. He was being followed by a pint-sized protégé. They both carried snowboards.
“Hey there,” Brett said to Jake. “We were just finishing up.” He turned to the kid. “Don’t forget to practice lifting your toes. I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow.”
“Okay,” the boy said. “But don’t be late again or my dad said you wouldn’t be getting a tip.” He hopped into a gondola heading down the mountain and was off.
“Little creep,” Brett whispered under his breath. Then he flashed a smile. “What can I do for you, Jake?” His eyes lit up when he saw me. “Wendy! Long time no see.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
I thought only tot moms and sorority sisters still did that. His lips were cold as ice. I tried not to take a step back and wipe my face. “How’s it going, Brett? Talked to your parents lately?”
I wasn’t sure why I asked that. The thought of the trashed house rushed back to me. And Artie.
“Actually, they’re moving to ta
ke care of my grandma. I’m house sitting for them.”
Jake wrinkled his brow like a cop. “Oh, so you were there this morning then?”
“Well, no. I usually only stay there on weekends. Why?”
Jake ignored the question. “Your friend Alex said you were late this morning. Why? What were you doing?”
“Dude. That’s none of your business.” He tucked the board under his arm and started to walk away.
It was time to play good cop to Jake’s bad cop. “Brett, I was interested in a lesson. However, my schedule is tight. What’s the earliest in the mornings that you can get here?” I pulled the scrunchie off my ponytail and flipped my blond locks over my shoulder. Cliché, of course, but it actually worked on Neanderthals like Brett.
“Well, I don’t usually get here until nine or ten, but I can make an exception for you. What time will work best?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure my old car can make it up the mountain. If I come by your place, could you give me a ride?”
“The ride of your life, babe.” He flashed a sly grin.
His too-white smile reminded me of the Big Bad Wolf’s. My stomach lurched. “Then how about Thursday at eight?”
“Sounds good. I’ll clear my schedule.”
I reached out and straightened the collar of his jacket. “You won’t be running late like this morning, will you? Where were you, anyway?” I went a step too far.
His squinted his eyes. “I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you.” He chuckled. “See you Thursday.” He hopped on a gondola going up the mountain.
Jake and I got inside the next one headed down.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“He was obviously being evasive about where he was. Are you really going to meet him Thursday morning?” He stared across at me from the opposite bench.
“Why? Are you jealous?”
“I don’t like the idea of you alone on a mountain with a would-be killer. If you get him to talk, you’d be helpless.”
Killer Shots Murder Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 30
