Chapter Fourteen
After lunch on Thursday, Brian was on his way to the ski patrol outpost atop Lift Two when his radio buzzed. “We’ve got an injured skier midway down Milk Run,” Nina said. “Looks like a knee injury.”
“I’m at the top of two,” Brian said. “Let me grab a splint and I’ll be right down.”
The man lay on his back at the side of the run, several people standing around watching Nina as she tended to him. She looked up at Brian’s approach. “This is Cary,” she said. “Cary, this is Brian.” She flushed. “I mean Dave. This is Dave.”
Brian stepped out of his skis and knelt beside the man, who lay with one knee bent, the other stretched in front of him. “I caught an edge and did something to my knee,” he said, grimacing. He had full cheeks and a rusty-red beard and wore a bright green parka and pants and a gray helmet.
“We’ll get some ice on there to reduce swelling and a splint to keep it immobile until you can get X-rays,” Brian said. “That should help you feel better.”
“Thanks.”
Brian slipped off his pack and took out a pair of chemical ice packs and a flexible splint. Nina broke the seal on the packs and began shaking them to freeze the liquid inside. “Let’s get these on either side of that knee,” she said, and knelt to arrange the ice.
“You’re Brian Weeks.” Cary stared at Brian. “Your picture was in the paper. You’re the guy they arrested for killing that girl.”
Brian’s stomach lurched and he froze. Nina had gone still as well. Somehow, he found his voice. “They questioned me and let me go,” he said. “I didn’t have anything to do with her death.”
“I wasn’t accusing you or anything.” The man shifted up onto his elbows and watched as Nina pressed the ice packs to either side of his knee. “I just knew her. Or, not really knew her, but I’d seen her around.”
Brian focused on unrolling the coiled splint. “She skied here a lot.”
“I didn’t see her on the slopes,” Cary said. “I work at Murphy’s, in the ski village. I’d see her around there.”
Murphy’s was a popular upscale Irish pub and restaurant on the ski village’s main thoroughfare. Not a casual hangout. Had a date taken Sharee there? “Who was she with?” Brian asked.
“That was the thing—she was never with anybody. She was always by herself. That’s why she stood out.”
“She came into the pub by herself?” An underage girl wouldn’t have been able to drink at the bar, and from what Brian knew, the menu ran to expensive steaks and seafood.
“Nah. I’d see her outside after I got off work. A couple of times. We close at eleven and by the time I got off pretty much everything around there is shut down, so I was surprised to see a girl by herself. The first time I even asked her if she was all right.”
“Was she all right?” Nina asked.
Cary turned to Nina. “She said she was fine, that she liked being out when no one else was around. I told her to be careful. She said nobody ever bothered her.” He frowned. “But I guess someone did.”
Brian began to fit the splint around Cary’s knee. “Did you see her the night she was killed?”
“No.” Cary grunted as Brian shifted the knee slightly.
“Sorry,” Brian said. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable once we have this on, and the ice will help, too.”
“Guess my season is over,” Cary said. “I can’t believe I was skiing along, having a great time, and then it was like someone grabbed me and yanked me down.”
“It happens like that sometimes,” Nina said. “Does anything else hurt? Your head or your arms or wrists or hands?”
“Just the knee.”
“Did you tell the sheriff’s office about seeing Sharee hanging around late at night?” Brian asked.
“No. I’m not one for wanting to get mixed up with the law.” Cary looked at Brian, then away. “Next thing you know, they’ll be hauling me in like they did you.”
The whine of an approaching snowmobile interrupted them. Brian looked over his shoulder as Anders pulled up, towing an orange sled. “Looks like your ride is here,” Nina said. She patted Cary’s shoulder. “We’ll tuck you in and the clinic will take care of you.”
“Thanks,” Cary said. He turned to include Brian. “Thanks a lot.”
“No problem.” Brian shifted to Cary’s head as Anders dragged the sled alongside the injured man. Together, the three of them helped him into the sled, then secured him for the trip down to the base area.
After Anders drove away, Nina moved in beside Brian. “You okay?” she asked.
“I’m good.”
“I’m sorry I forgot and called you Brian.”
“It’s okay. I forget to answer to Dave half the time anyway.”
“I can’t believe he straight up asked if you were arrested for a murder,” she said.
He shook his head. He didn’t really care about that. Not now. “If he noticed Sharee hanging around late at night, there must be other people who saw her,” he said. “Maybe someone saw her with her killer.”
“I would think the sheriff’s deputies would have talked to people about that.”
“Not if they didn’t know she had a habit of being out late at night by herself. Her sister and friends didn’t know.”
“Are you going to tell them?” she asked.
“Of course.” Though maybe not right away. First, he would ask a few questions himself.
AS CHLOE APPROACHED the salon that morning, she was startled to see a familiar figure waiting by the front door.
Bunny Allerton, swathed in her ankle-length fur coat, whirled to face her.
“I came to apologize and explain about my disappearing act yesterday,” she said before Chloe could speak.
“I am so, so sorry, and I don’t blame you if you’re furious with me, but I really did have a solid reason for not being here and for not contacting you right away. ”
Chloe’s first emotion wasn’t anger, but confusion.
She had persuaded herself that Bunny must have some connection to the break-in of her apartment yesterday, but if that was the case, the woman wouldn’t dare show up here like this—would she?
Bunny really did look upset—pale and red-eyed, a little more humble than the imperious woman who had visited the salon two days ago. “What happened?” Chloe asked.
“My mother. She lives in Florida, in a very nice senior resort development. Yesterday afternoon I was getting ready to come here when I get a call from her neighbor, telling me Mom had been taken away by ambulance. The neighbor said she couldn’t even tell if Mom was alive or dead when she saw her being carted into the ambulance.
” Bunny pressed a hand over her heart. “I was absolutely panicked. I don’t know how it is with you and your mom, but my mother and I are like this.
” She twined two fingers together. “She means everything to me. I started calling, trying to find what hospital she was in. That took an hour at least, then I learned she’d had a heart attack and the person I spoke with said they thought she had been taken into emergency surgery.
I started trying to find a flight to get to her, then I got a call from Mom herself.
She wasn’t going into emergency surgery—she had had a heart attack and she needs a bypass, but they’re not going to do the surgery for a few more days.
She’s in the hospital and doing okay, getting the best care.
She persuaded me to wait and return on my normal flight.
I can be with her when she has the bypass and help take care of her afterward.
” Bunny’s gaze met Chloe’s. She really did look exhausted.
“All of this took hours. By the time I could think straight again, you were already closed for the day. I know I should have called earlier, but all I could think about was that my mother might be dying. What if I never had a chance to speak to her again?” She bit her lip and blinked away tears.
“I’m so sorry about your mother,” Chloe said. “I can see how a beauty appointment might not have been at the top of your mind after all that.”
“Thank you for being so understanding,” Bunny said. “I’m sure you’re much too busy, but do you think you could find time in your schedule today for a manicure? My nails are a mess.” She held out one hand to show chipped polish and at least one broken nail. “If you can’t work me in, I understand.”
“No, I’m sure I have some time this morning.” Chloe moved past her to unlock the door. “Come on in. Let me get set up and I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
She stashed her purse in a drawer at the front desk, then moved toward the back of the building to turn up the heat. “Would you like some coffee?” she called over her shoulder. “I’m going to make some for myself.”
“Coffee would be wonderful. Thank you.”
She set the heat, then ducked into the restroom to touch up her makeup from the bag she kept at the salon.
She had been forced to dress this morning in the same clothing she had worn yesterday but had done her best to appear professional.
Then she hurried to the small kitchen area and listened to messages as she made the coffee.
Sure enough, there was a frantic-sounding call from Bunny at around seven last night, with a rushed explanation of her mother’s heart attack and an apology.
Coffee started, she returned to the front.
Bunny had removed her coat and draped it on a hook by the door and sat flipping through a magazine.
She was dressed less flamboyantly today, in black leggings and a simple black turtleneck.
The towering blond hair and long fake lashes were still in evidence, but her makeup was more subdued.
“Come over here to the manicure station and pick out a color,” Chloe said. “I’ll have that coffee in a minute.”
Bunny chose a polish, Chloe set her hands to soak, then went to pour two mugs of coffee.
She began to remove the woman’s old polish.
Her previous manicure really was a wreck—chips and nicks, as if she’d been doing hard manual labor.
“I pick at my nails when I’m nervous,” Bunny said.
“And like I said—yesterday I was a wreck.”
“Understandable.” Chloe filed at a ragged nail.
“I’m sick of talking about myself and my problems,” Bunny said. “Tell me about yourself.”