Skiing is Murder Read online

  Sara glanced at Sean. If he was trying to get out of answering questions, he wasn’t going about it the right way. Now the detective would want to know what they’d heard, see how it lined up with what the police already knew, and on it would go.

  “Detective Callahan,” Sara began, certain to keep her tone sweet, “my husband and I only know that a man’s body was found.”

  “So you s’pect me to believe that you don’t know whose body?”

  “We might have heard it was Adrian Blackwell,” she admitted.

  Callahan squinted. “Might have or did?”

  “We heard who it was,” Sean confessed. “Beyond that, we were enjoying a drink in front of the fireplace.” Sean bobbed his head in the direction of the hearth. The flames continued to dance, unaffected by the transpiring events.

  “And who did you hear this from?” Callahan hoisted the pad up his chest, so far it was essentially tucked under his chin. It was almost as if he had bad eyesight but refused to wear eyeglasses. His pen was poised and ready to write.

  “We overheard it from that group over there.” Sean pointed discreetly in the direction of the five friends, who were having a lively conversation with Officer Muller.

  Callahan scribbled something on his notepad, then looked back up at Sean and Sara. “All right. Before we get into the hearsay, when did you two arrive at the resort?”

  “We got in last night,” Sean stated.

  “Did you ever meet Adrian Blackwell?”

  “So that is the victim?” Sara jumped right on the detective’s slip, which essentially confirmed the ID of the deceased.

  “This is an open investigation,” he replied, clinching the deceased’s identity. To say what he had said was a common diversion tactic.

  “Please, Detective Callahan, as my husband told you, we used to work with the Albany PD, in homicide to be precise.”

  “Homicide, you say? Well, that hasn’t been verified.”

  Sean took a deep breath as Sara let a subtle smile dust her lips.

  “Very wise. You don’t have confirmation,” she said. “But I assure you, we are telling the truth. And you just confirmed that Adrian Blackwell was the person you found dead.”

  Callahan smacked his lips and glanced briefly around the room. Meeting her gaze again, he nodded. “Yes, it was Blackwell.”

  “Was he murdered?” The question left her lips without a filter.

  “It’s too early to say.”

  Sara nodded.

  Callahan transferred his pen to his right hand along with the pad, his arms now lowered. “I probably shouldn’t be saying any more than this, but you two have trustworthy faces. And yes, I know I just said that your story about being cops wasn’t verified. It was a spiel. You get that, right? We say ’em all the time as cops.”

  He was looking to establish common ground, and even though Sara wasn’t in full agreement with what he had said, she nodded. Sean did, too.

  “His body was found in a thicket of trees along one of the runs,” Callahan continued. “Now, that hill is for advanced skiers and not for the faint of heart.”

  “Adrian was a skiing champion,” Sara countered.

  “Yes, ma’am, and a two-time Olympic gold medalist at that.”

  Ma’am? She hated being addressed that way. It made her feel older than her thirty-four years.

  “We overheard that you might be thinking it was an accident,” Sean interjected.

  “It’s possible. Like I said, it’s way too early to tell. The resort staff thought he’d checked out days ago. Last Thursday.”

  Thought?

  Sara’s ears perked up. “Did he check out? I mean, someone else didn’t do it for him?”

  “Well, you know how it’s done these days. Most times you don’t even need to speak to a person. You just leave your keys in the room and the charges go to your credit card automatically. Blackwell was booked to stay through this coming Friday, but the front desk received a call canceling the rest of the week.”

  “From Adrian Blackwell?” Sara was confident the detective was holding back. She’d noticed that he left out the time of the phone call. Sean nudged his boot against hers.

  “We need to verify who called down, see if the front desk has a recording of it, but I’m not holding my breath.” Callahan went quiet for a moment, indicating there was more he wasn’t saying or at liberty to share. “Adrian was known to be rather impulsive in his personal life.”

  Sara didn’t miss the leap in topic from the mention of a recording to the likelihood of a shortened stay. She knew he didn’t think Adrian was the one to make the call, which meant Adrian’s time of death must have been before the call, a fact it seemed Callahan was guarding, at least for now.

  “What do you mean he was impulsive?” Sara asked, sticking to more neutral ground.

  “He was disciplined with his sport. Obviously. Look at his successes. But he was divorced by the age of twenty-two. I get that if something doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out, but he moves on in relationships like there’s no shortage of women.” Callahan paused and bobbed his head side to side. “But I guess for a guy like Blackwell, there probably wasn’t.”

  “Are you referring to what the tabloids say about Adrian or have you verified this information already?” Sean asked the question, but it made Sara realize that since they’d exchanged their badges for PI licenses, both the deceased and the suspects were often referred to by first names as opposed to surnames.

  “Yeah. Well, that and what some other officers are saying.”

  There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Sara could have let the interaction die there if she could just turn off the investigator that lived inside her. “So Adrian was supposed to check out this coming Friday but checked out this past Thursday?” If it weren’t for his dead body and the question of who made the call to shorten his stay, she’d wonder if it was simply a booking error.

  “You got it.”

  Sara decided to be a little more direct. “Only he didn’t check himself out. Someone did it for him.”

  Callahan remained quiet.

  “He was found on the hill, and I assume he was dressed for skiing?” Sara pressed, hoping to pry loose what Callahan was holding back.

  “All of his personal belongings were cleared from his room.” Callahan glanced away and was rocking on his heels.

  “Hmm.” Sara received another nudge from Sean’s boot. She glanced at him and he bugged his eyes at her, begging her to leave it alone. But she couldn’t. “You—the police—are leaning toward this being an accident? Who found him?” Killers often reported the discovery of their victims.

  Callahan waved his hand in dismissal. “They’ve already been cleared.”

  “Whatever you tell us stays between us,” Sara prompted, hoping to get more out of the detective.

  Callahan’s gaze came back to her. “I’ve said too much already. I just hope you two are who you say you are.” He hesitated, seeming to deliberate whether to tell them anymore than he already had. “Adrian’s time of death was two in the morning Thursday.”

  “He didn’t check out of his room that early, did he?”

  Callahan pressed his lips together. “Nope. Late afternoon.”

  Sara faced Sean, and he shook his head. He was right, of course. This matter should be left to the police, but there was a part of her that couldn’t look the other way. There were too many unanswered questions, foremost of which was who checked Adrian out—both from the resort and from this world.

  -

  Chapter 5

  FOR THE LOVE OF…

  AFTER ALL THAT HAD TRANSPIRED in the lobby, a quiet night in the room with Sara sounded incredibly inviting to Sean. They’d order room service and spend the night together in solitude. He knew she wanted to find out more about Adrian Blackwell, but stepping away f
rom the man’s death would be in her best interest. They were always on a case back home and, for the most part, he was fine with that, but a healthy lifestyle required balance. And that’s what this week was about—time away from murder, an opportunity to recharge their batteries.

  “We’re not getting involved, Sara,” he said, pacing their room. “The police are doing their jobs. Let them continue to.” Though he tried, he was not succeeding at keeping the sulk out of his voice. Why did they always attract murder investigations? He reassured himself this one wasn’t for them to stick their noses in. They often took on cases police had concluded were suicides or accidental deaths when there was reason to suspect otherwise. With Adrian Blackwell, the investigation into his death was fresh and being given the careful attention it required and deserved. There was absolutely no need for them to get involved.

  “Detective Callahan said that Adrian had a lot of women in his life,” Sara began. “One of them could have gotten jealous and killed him.”

  Sean stopped walking and stood in front of where she sat at the foot of the bed. God she was beautiful. The way her brown curls framed her face, how the green and gold flecks in her brown eyes caught the light. The fact that she was snuggled up in a terry cloth robe with nothing beneath it…

  He snapped out of his thoughts. “He read that in a gossip rag, I’m sure. Besides, we don’t even know if he was murdered.”

  “I disagree. The phone call to the front desk, Sean. He was murdered, that much is clear. And as for the magazines, you know there is some truth to them.”

  “Sara.” He lowered his head to make sure he had her attention. “Darling? We’re on vacation.” He stared at her mouth. Her ruby lips were begging to be kissed.

  She let out a deep sigh. “You’re right.”

  “Don’t seem so excited.”

  “I’m sorry.” Sara got to her feet. “That’s not what I meant. I love being here with you.”

  There was something in the flattened tone of her voice that gave him the impression this trip was more for him than for her. “Are you happy we came?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She smiled at him now. Her facial features had softened, the investigator within her was slowly retreating.

  “Good. I’m happy you’re happy. Now should I pour that cognac?”

  She nodded. He went to a table that was by the window for two glasses and the bottle. He poured their drinks and admired his beautiful wife before handing her a glass. He raised his own in a toast. “To us.”

  “To us.” She touched her glass to his and then took a sip.

  Licking his lips and savoring the flavor of the alcohol, he set his glass down on the table. He took Sara’s from her and placed it beside his.

  She was peering into his eyes, and he moved closer, sliding his hands through her hair. Cupping the back of her head, he drew her to him and captured her mouth. She tasted better than any cognac.

  In this moment, murder didn’t exist. Was it too much to ask for the rest of their vacation to be the same way?

  His phone rang, its trill like a dentist’s drill, invasive and unwelcome.

  She pulled back, allowing him the freedom to check his phone.

  “Let voice mail get it.” He kissed her again, but she drew her mouth away.

  She pressed her forehead against his and looked straight into his eyes. “Something might have happened back home.”

  She caressed his cheek and he took her hand and tapped a kiss to her palm before releasing her and rushing for his phone.

  “I’ll be right here when you’re done,” she said.

  He read the caller ID and shrank inside. PI Firm. It would be Helen. She had started working with them just over a year ago, first as their housecleaner and now as the office manager for the firm. Her hours at the firm were part time, so she still cleaned for them. She had a six-year-old daughter named Mia who had fought cancer and won—a sweet little girl with a bright future.

  “Sean?” Helen said.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re on vacation.”

  “What is it?” he asked kindly.

  “I understand there’s been a murder there… At your resort?”

  “A death, yes,” he clarified. “How did you know?”

  The news had made it from Vail to Albany awfully fast. He sensed his vacation was coming to a swift end.

  “I received a phone call from Adrian Blackwell’s agent,” Helen began. “He is adamant that you and Sara investigate Adrian’s murder.”

  “His agent? Why would he—”

  “Care? I wondered the same thing. Oh, sorry, Sean, I shouldn’t have interrupted.”

  “That’s—”

  “Strange? That’s what I thought.” A sliver of a pause. “Sorry. I did it again.”

  “Go ahead.” Sean wasn’t sure whether to smile, laugh, scream, or cry.

  “All right, well, his name is Dale Peterman. He’s been with Adrian from the start of his career.”

  “But the police are investigating his death.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Peterman knows that, but he found out that you and Sara are there and wants you to run your own investigation.”

  “Behind the police department’s back?”

  Sara nuzzled up to him now. Her eyebrows arched in question, but he wasn’t going to discuss this with her until he hung up with Helen. And just because someone asked them to take a case didn’t mean they were going to. Police existed for a reason, and they made it possible for Sean and Sara to have a relaxing, work-free vacation every now and then.

  “I don’t think that was implied, necessarily,” Helen responded to his question. “And it’s not like you’ve never…” She let her statement trail off.

  He supposed she was right. There were times they might have used legally questionable means to catch a killer. Then he realized his way out. Private investigator licenses were governed by territory. There was a thing called reciprocity and an agreement needed to be in place between the state that issued the license and the one where the investigation was taking place. One didn’t exist between New York and Colorado. In short, this meant they didn’t have a recognized legal right to investigate Adrian’s death.

  “We’re in Colorado, Helen.”

  His statement met with silence. Maybe they had trained her too well. Justice and the truth trumped technicalities, even when those technicalities represented the law.

  He couldn’t believe he was even considering giving in. “Did you have him fill out an application?”

  They had a vetting process for new clients. The applicant had to list at least three charities to which PI Firm could divvy up the profits. If they couldn’t list that many, it was an instant rejection. The firm charged as any private investigator’s office would, but Sean and Sara never took a cut. Seeing as Sean and Sara were giving their time, they expected their clientele to also be generous. This is why the name Pay It Forward fit the firm perfectly.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t have called you otherwise. Sean, Mr. Peterman is willing to not only pay your set fee schedule but an additional ten thousand to a charity in your name.”

  “Whoa.” He could feel their vacation slipping through his fingers.

  “Sean?” Sara prompted, her hand touching his arm. He placed a hand over hers.

  Helen continued, her voice cautious. “The retainer amount and the ten thousand were wired an hour ago. I don’t know how he found out our banking information.”

  Normally clients paid them by check but not until their case was approved.

  “Dale must have contacts, and people like him are used to getting what they want.” He didn’t know Dale personally, but he made the judgment based on the way the man was throwing money around.

  “Are you going to take the case or should I re
fund the money?”

  Sean aligned his gaze with Sara’s. She had no idea what the call was about, not exactly. Sara possessed an almost clairvoyant ability to piece things together, though, and given the way she was looking at him, how could he say no? Not to mention the generous contribution to charity.

  “Give us until morning, Helen.”

  “Will do. Again, sorry to bother you.” Helen clicked off, and Sean lowered his phone. Still gripping it, he turned to face Sara.

  Her eyes were alert. “Is everything all right?”

  If she referred to no one being dead in Albany, then yes, everything was all right. If she was asking if he was all right, that was another matter.

  He’d have to tell Sara what the call was about. He wished he’d left his phone on silent, but the thought only ushered in the guilt. All that extra money for charity. Of course, he and Sara could easily donate it in place of Dale.

  “Sean?”

  There’d be no more procrastinating, and he laid out the details of the call.

  “So we’re investigating his death, then,” she said.

  “I guess so.”

  “Oh, Sean.” She flung her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

  -

  Chapter 6

  UP IN A PUFF OF POWDER

  SEAN WAS UP BEFORE SARA, which was not that much of a surprise. Her sleep requirements seemed to be like those of a teenager who stayed in bed until forced out by a parent. But there was no reason to wake her. They might not have the full day to do with as they wished, which for him included the sound of his skis cutting across freshly groomed snow, but they would at least retain some advantages of being on vacation and get as much sleep as they wanted.

  He stepped out into the hall and made a call to Helen to let her know they would take the case investigating Adrian’s death. He also requested Dale Peterman’s contact information. Usually before they took on a case, he and Sara would meet with the applicant in person to get a feel for him or her. That was yet another skipped step. But he definitely wanted to speak with the agent over the phone.