01 Storm Peak (45 page)
Lee, Jesse and Felix had debated the need to evacuate the street itself, but decided against it. In a town as small as Steamboat Springs, such activity would almost certainly be noticed. People would start talking and word could reach Mikkelitz. As it was, she’d arranged to keep Mrs. McLaren and her other guests incommunicado for the day. They were sequestered in the Public Safety Building. They had a TV and a supply of movies. They had music. They had an endless supply of coffee. They had their meals supplied from the Steamboat Yacht Club and brought in by Denise.
The one thing they didn’t have was the freedom to wander around town, talking about it all.
“Well, you know, Lee,” said Jesse slowly, in answer to her last statement, “we could go looking for him. Problem is, we don’t have the faintest idea where he might be.”
“We’re going to look a bunch of damn fools if he’s up on the mountain and someone else gets killed today,” she said shortly.
Jesse tilted back the cap and sat up a little. He thought about it for a second or two, then shook his head.
“Unlikely” he said finally. “After all, we found the ski patrol uniform in his closet. There’s no reason why he should suppose we’re on to him, so there’s no reason why he wouldn’t wear it again if he had another killing planned.”
“I know that, Jess,” she said, with just a touch of asperity. “I’m just saying I’d rather be out looking than just sitting here waiting.”
He shrugged, tipped the cap forward again and settled back in the chair. She looked at him in exasperation. The morning had started relatively well. It had been good to work as a team. There was a lot of mutual trust and respect there, and the adrenaline rush as they’d gone into the boardinghouse had given her a sense of togetherness with him once more.
It had affected him as well, she knew. There had been no room for the cautious, guilty look to his face. There had been no time for her to wonder what was going on between him and Abby, no time for him to stew over it.
Now, there was.
They were sitting cooped up in the Munsings’ bedroom, with nothing to do but wait for Mikkelitz to arrive home. Morosely, she realized that he could be out all day. She and Jesse could spend the next eight hours snapping quietly at each other’s heels.
The handheld radio on the bedside table beside her crackled to life.
“Someone coming.”
It was Felix Obermeyer’s voice. The town police chief had decided that this was a big enough case to involve himself personally. He’d taken a position in the car at the eastern end of Laurel, accompanied by one of his officers.
Lee reached for the radio to ask for more detail. As her hand touched it, Felix’s voice came again.
“False alarm. It’s old Ted Horton from down the street.”
Lee settled back in her chair again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jesse’s tense body relax.
From under the baseball cap, he spoke. “I’ll take over now if you like.”
There was an underlying apology in his tone. He was doing his best to set things right between them, she knew. But, perversely, she refused the tentative olive branch. It was all very well for Jesse to make magnanimous gestures, but taking over the watch a mere ten minutes before he was due to wasn’t going to make up for what he’d been doing with Abby.
“We’ll stick to the schedule,” she said shortly and he shrugged to himself.
Which led her to ask, for the hundredth time: What had he been doing with Abby? And what right did she have to resent it?
After all, she and Jesse had slept together once. And that had hardly been his idea. She squirmed mentally with embarrassment as she recalled that night at his cabin, hopping one-legged on his porch while she tried to get rid of her boots, then stripping naked in front of him. No wonder he’d screwed her, she thought. She’d hardly given him any choice in the matter.
But he’d promised nothing. She’d thought she knew his feelings but, obviously, she’d been wrong.
Proximity, she thought. That was all it was. After all, what was a man expected to do with a nude woman in his room, all heated up for him and raring to go?
Shake hands and say, “No thanks”?
She would have killed him if he had.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was her own fault. Jesse wanted her as a friend. He always had. When he’d finally opened up to her about the trouble in Denver, she’d put another value on it entirely. She knew she loved him. She’d loved him for years, even though she only realized it these last few days. And because he’d sought her out as a friend, she’d let herself assume that he loved her too.
“Shit,” she said to herself quietly, not even realizing that she’d spoken aloud.
“Say what?” said Jesse, sitting up in the ridiculous, feminine little chair. He stretched his arms and legs and yawned.
“Nothing,” she said, feeling her face heat up just a little. “I was just thinking out loud.”
She picked up the folding pair of Nikon binoculars and made a pretense of studying the front door of the boardinghouse. Behind her, she heard Jesse pacing quietly. She was glad to see that the waiting was getting to him too.
“Think I’ll make some coffee,” he said finally. “You want some?”
She nodded, glasses still up to her face.
“Might wash the taste of these doughnuts away,” she said. She heard Jesse give a short snort of laughter as he rustled around in the bag.
“Kind of explains Tom’s waistline, doesn’t it?” he said mildly. They’d asked Tom to bring them something to eat, hadn’t specified what. In retrospect, Lee realized that they should have expected the tubby deputy to get them a bag of doughnuts.
She grinned to herself, heard the door close behind Jesse as he went to the kitchen in the back of the house. She set down the Nikons, leaned back in the chair, shifting to a more comfortable position.
It was nearly over, she thought. Weeks of hunting, thinking, trying to find some clue to the identity of the murderer, and suddenly, one day, an old landlady walks in to complain about kids on Ski-Doos and says, “What’s Mr. Murphy’s picture doing on your wall,” and it all falls into place.
And now it was all over except for the shouting. Or the shooting, she amended.
But at least that part she felt capable of handling. If it came down to it, she knew she could more than hold her own in an arrest of an armed man. That was her forte. She was a hunter and a tracker. If, at the end of the hunt, there was shooting required, she could accommodate the need.
Jesse, on the other hand, was more of a thinker than she’d ever be. He seemed to be able to get inside the thought processes of a criminal. To understand why he was doing what he did.
Not that Jesse was any slouch when it came to the rough end of police work, she thought. She couldn’t imagine anyone she’d rather have backing her up in a firefight. He was a damn good shot. She was better, she knew without any false modesty, and so did he. But he was good.
Ruefully, she thought to herself that they could have made a hell of a great team. Between them, they covered all the skills necessary for law enforcement in a place like Routt County. They could do a great job together.
Could have done a great job together, she corrected. She knew that she couldn’t face Jesse on a day-to-day basis anymore. It wasn’t enough for her to be a good old friend, someone whose shoulder he could cry on. She wanted more of him.
She wanted all of him. But, deep down, she knew Abby had him.
The doorknob rattled and Jesse re-entered, backing in as he shouldered the door open, carrying two brimming coffee mugs. He set one down beside her and the hot coffee slopped onto the polished wood of the bedside table.
“Careful,” she said. He muttered apologetically and she grabbed a handful of tissues from under the table and mopped up.
“May as well take a break now,” he suggested. “It’s near enough to time.”
She checked her watch. It was ten twenty-eight and they’d agreed to change at ten thirty. Close enough, she agreed. She eased out of the wooden chair, moving between him and the bed to get out of his way. There was a brief moment of body contact, then Jesse had settled himself in the chair. He tweaked the curtains back a touch, then sat back, with a clear view of the boardinghouse’s front porch.
Lee took the ridiculous little armchair. She sipped her coffee. That was another thing she knew she’d miss about Jesse. He made good coffee. She made an attempt to normalize the atmosphere in the room. It was strange. For a few minutes, there’d be the old bond between them, the quiet comfort of being in each other’s company without the need for words. Then, from one or the other of them, the awkwardness would radiate out like a light, and the tension between them would become almost palpable. It had happened just now as their bodies brushed against each other.
“You do a lot of this sort of thing when you were in Denver?” she asked.
He nodded, hesitated a second, then replied. “Too much. Tony used to say that a cop’s life was sixty percent sitting in a car on a cold wet night, sixty percent writing up reports and one percent doing anything interesting.”
She studied him carefully. It was the first time she could remember him making any reference to his former partner. Maybe those old ghosts were finally being laid to rest. She smiled tentatively. “That can’t be right. It totals one hundred and twenty one percent.”
He nodded, grinning in spite of himself. “Yeah, true,” he replied. “Better cut the one percent doing anything interesting.”
The cell phone on the bed suddenly chirped to life. It was closer to Jesse. He looked at her, a question in his eyes and she nodded for him to answer. He picked it up and activated it.
“This is Jesse,” he said. He heard Tom Legros’s voice at the other end of the line.
“Jess? Lee told me to let her know if anything was happening around town.” The other deputy paused. He seemed to want some reply from Jesse.
“She certainly did, Tom. I heard her. So has something happened?”
Lee sat upright, half out of the armchair, her head tilted in a question. He held up a hand for her to wait.
“Well, I’m sorry to bother you when I know you’re busy, but she did say—”
Jesse cut him off impatiently. “Tom, does this have anything to do with Mikkelitz?”
The other deputy sounded apologetic. “Well, no, Jess. That’s why, as I say, I’m sorry to bother you with it …”
Jesse signaled for Lee to relax, shaking his head in answer to her unspoken question. She settled back in the chair, eyes still on him.
“Never mind that, Tom,” Jesse told him. “Just tell me what’s happened and I’ll pass the details on to Lee, okay?”
“Fine, Jess. I mean, it’s nothing important. Nothing I can’t handle, but she did say to—”
“Yeah, Tom, I know she did say that.” There was a definite edge to Jesse’s voice now.
Lee tried to suppress a grin. She knew better than anyone how roundabout Tom Legros could be in his explanations.
Jesse continued. “Just tell me what’s happened, okay?”
“Well, it’s a mugging, Jess.”
Jesse caught Lee’s eye and repeated the phrase. “A mugging,” he confirmed.
“That’s right. Down at the taxi depot—you know the Alpine Taxi depot out on the edge of town? Well, it seems someone coldcocked Alby Maroody when he was starting out for work. The dispatcher found Alby unconscious behind the Dumpster in their parking lot. Someone had really cracked him. Doc says he may have a fractured skull. He doesn’t look too good, believe me.”
“You’re there now, are you, Tom?” Jesse cut in.
“That’s right, Jess. I know Lee told me to keep an eye on those folks from the boardinghouse, but I figured this should take priority over them, okay?”
“I’m sure that’s right, Tom. Hang on while I fill Lee in on the details.”
He set the phone to one side and quickly recapped the situation for Lee. She listened, nodding, as he described the situation, taking a lot less time than Tom had to get to the salient details.
Finally, she asked, “Anything stolen?”
Jesse nodded, recognizing that was the one fact that Tom hadn’t passed on so far. At least, that was one fact. Knowing Tom, there could be half a dozen others. The taxi driver could have been mugged by aliens and Tom wouldn’t mention it unless specifically asked.
He put the cell phone to his ear again.
“Tom?” he said. “Lee’s asking was anything stolen?”
The other deputy hesitated. When he spoke, he sounded uncertain.
“You mean apart from the taxi?” he asked. Jesse held back a grin, covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked straightfaced at Lee.
“He wants to know, apart from the taxi,” he said.
Lee rolled her eyes to heaven. “Jesus,” she said. “He’s a tiger for mentioning minor detail, isn’t he? Yes. Let’s see if anything was stolen apart from the taxi, shall we?”
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