Read Chocolate Dipped Death Online
Authors: SAMMI CARTER
Chocolate Dipped Death (12 page)
My hope was short-lived. Six rings later, the call patched through to voice mail. I left a brief message, just in case, and replaced the receiver. “No luck,” I told the clerk. “Have you seen Mr. or Mrs. Horne this morning?”
Julie shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. We have one hundred thirty rooms, and they’re all full. It’s next to impossible to keep track of everyone who’s staying here.”
“Mrs. Horne is about my age. Tall. Long, dark hair. Very pretty.”
Julie’s pert smile drooped. “You’ve just described half our female guests.”
“I understand that, but this is important. Mrs. Horne left the hotel to go jogging early yesterday morning. Her husband hasn’t seen her since.”
“One of our guests is missing?”
“You didn’t know?”
She shook her head quickly. “No, but management might. Information doesn’t always filter down to the rest of us.”
“She hasn’t been missing long enough to get the police involved,” I told her, “but her husband is getting worried, and so are her friends. If I could find someone on staff, or even another guest who’s seen her, it would set everyone’s minds at ease.”
Julie shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“Were you working at five thirty yesterday morning?”
“No. I don’t come on shift until seven.”
“Then can you tell me who
was
here?”
was
here?”
Her frown deepened. “The only thing I can do is give you the name of our night manager. He might be able to help.”
“I’ll take it. Any chance I can get a phone number so I can talk to him this morning?”
Julie shook pale blonde bangs into her eyes and swept them away again. “That’s against company policy, but he’ll be on duty again at eleven. You could probably talk to him then.” She wrote something on the back of a business card and pushed it across the counter.
I thanked her and jotted my cell phone number on the back of another card for her. “Thanks. I appreciate the help. If you see Mrs. Horne or run into someone who has, please give me a call.”
Julie promised she would, and I skidded back across the parking lot to the Jetta.
Max was whining again by the time I got back to the Jetta, so I clipped on his leash and let him out into the frigid air. No matter how cold it is, Max seems to need time and space to take care of business, and I’ve learned not to rush him. I gave him his lead and followed him through the parking lot toward the mountain.
By the time we reached the service road that runs adjacent to the forest, Max began sniffing in earnest, but instead of settling on one of the perfectly good spruces or aspens surrounding us, he raced off in search of something better.
I fell into step behind him, a little nervous about running on the ice that still lined the unused road. I’m in better shape than I was before Max came to live with me, but I’m still not one of those people who hits the streets every day, come rain, shine, or snow, like Savannah.
Since I was occupied with other thoughts, I didn’t notice the other set of footprints in the snow immediately. Even after I did, it took me a few minutes to figure out that Max was following them. I mean, it’s not as if there were lots of choices about which path to take. The forest grows right to the edge of the road there, and the undergrowth is so thick someone could lie hidden in it for days.
That thought sent a cold chill up my spine, and for the first time, I wondered if Savannah had gone jogging on city streets, or if she’d chosen this more obscure path. As quickly as the thought formed, I dismissed it. Who in their right mind would run out here, alone, in the dark?
Whatever scent Max was chasing must have been a strong one. Eight inches of fresh powder lay in mounds between the trees, and piles of snow had been pushed against the shoulder of the road by the street crews. The cold air burned my lungs, and my fingers were already numb, but the dog showed no sign of letting up.
We rounded a curve in the road, and I sawed on the leash, trying to get Max to stop. “Come on, boy,” I pleaded between gasps. “Let’s go back. It’s cold out here.”
To prove which one of us was the boss, Max laid his ears back and started running faster. We’d probably gone half a mile from the hotel when I caught a glimpse of something red almost buried in the snow beneath the trees. I didn’t even have time to register what I was looking at before Max lunged off the road toward it.
I was dimly aware of car doors opening and closing in the parking lot behind us, but trees obscured the view. How odd. It seemed like we’d walked forever, but we’d circled around behind the hotel and only a few feet now separated us from civilization.
I fell twice as I struggled through the snow toward the red patch, and the burning cold turned my hands nearly as red as the mystery bundle I was heading for. After what seemed like an hour, I drew close enough to see that the bundle was some kind of fabric, and a panicky feeling fluttered in my stomach.
With a low growl, Max buried his nose in the snow and began to dig. Tugging him away was no easy feat, but I didn’t want to just let him go. What if . . . Well, what
if
?
if
?
I secured the leash around a tree branch and, ignoring Max’s unhappy whining, prodded the mound gently with the toe of my boot. When I realized that the red fabric was attached to something solid, I swear my stomach turned completely over.
Trying not to think, I dropped to my knees and scooped powder away with my already numb hands. But the snow was so light and dry it collapsed on itself. Each scoop I removed filled up again immediately.
Panting and exhausted, I sat back on my heels and tried to come up with another plan of attack. Maybe it was nothing, I told myself. Something tossed to the side of the road. A waste of my time.
But what if it wasn’t? I shifted a few inches to my right and started digging again. In spite of the frigid air, sweat trickled down my temples and the back of my neck. I kept digging anyway.
After a few minutes, the snow fell away, revealing the slightly rounded curve of a shoulder, an arm, and one bare hand with skin an unnatural color of gray blue. The breath left my lungs in a rush, and I fell backward into the snow. I stared at the curled fingers in disbelief for far too long before the realization hit me that whoever it was might not be dead.
I went to work on the snow again with a vengeance, shoveling powder away by the armful and praying silently with every fear-filled breath. I don’t know how long it took to uncover her head, but one look at her face and her eyes staring sightlessly at the ground convinced me of what I already knew: I was too late.
My stomach heaved, and bile shot into my throat. With my eyes blurred by tears, I crawled into the trees a few feet away and emptied my stomach. I could hear Max howling in the background, but I wasn’t sure whether he was worried about me or eager to check out Savannah’s lifeless body.
When I finally finished, I felt the strangest urge to lie down in the snow and let the cool white powder wipe the fever from my face, but I didn’t have time to indulge myself. I had to let someone know what I’d found.
Naturally, my first thought was of Jawarski. I could use a friendly face right about now.
I’d been carrying my cell phone in my pocket all day, but I was in one of those sections of Paradise the satellite signal doesn’t reach. Swearing softly under my breath, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and leaned my head against the tree where Max sat watching me. “What do I do, boy? I don’t want to leave her . . .”
I know it doesn’t sound logical. After all, she’d been there for more than a day already. What could a few more minutes hurt? But it was the principle of the thing. Nobody had known she was there before. I did know now, and I didn’t want to just walk away and leave her lying there, cold and alone.
After a few minutes, the sound of voices cut through the haze in my head, and I realized that someone must be in the hotel parking lot. My throat hurt from being sick, but I forced myself to shout, “Help! Help me, please! I need someone to call the police.”
The voices fell silent, but I shouted again, and a few seconds later, two women wearing hotel staff uniforms appeared through the trees. I stood and waved my arms over my head to get their attention. “Call the police,” I shouted, struggling through the snow toward them. “Ask them to send Jawarski.”
Chapter 9
“What made you decide to look for her out
there?” Jawarski asked as he handed me a mug filled with cocoa a couple of hours later. I inched my shoulders under the blanket he’d brought me a few minutes earlier and took the cup with a grateful smile. It felt good to be inside where it was warm, surrounded by the familiar things in my apartment.
there?” Jawarski asked as he handed me a mug filled with cocoa a couple of hours later. I inched my shoulders under the blanket he’d brought me a few minutes earlier and took the cup with a grateful smile. It felt good to be inside where it was warm, surrounded by the familiar things in my apartment.
Karen was gone, but her clothes and bags were strewn all over my living room, so Jawarski and I had moved into the kitchen. Jawarski hadn’t asked about the mess, and I hadn’t offered an explanation, but the question floated in the space between us.
The cocoa had that pale, thin look you get from mixing that instant junk with water. I sipped it anyway and gave Jawarski an A for effort. “I wasn’t really looking for her along that road,” I said. “I was just taking Max for a walk.”
“At the Summit Lodge?”
I shook my head and started over again. “I went to the lodge to look for Savannah, but the clerk I spoke to hadn’t seen her. When I came outside again, Max made it clear that he needed to get out of the car. He’s the one who found her.”
Jawarski’s glance settled on the dog, who lay curled at my feet as if finding a dead body was an everyday occurrence. Jawarski patted his side and straightened again. The man is tall and solid, with short-cropped hair, blue eyes, and a regulation police mustache that droops a little over his upper lip.
I can’t deny that I’m attracted, but I’m determined to take things slow. My divorce is barely a year old, and my track record with men leaves a whole lot to be desired. I’d somehow managed to miss my ex-husband’s affair until I tripped over it. Jawarski seems like a good guy, but so had Roger, and look how that turned out.
Those are my reasons for holding back. I don’t know Jawarski’s. He doesn’t say a lot, and I don’t ask. I figure he’ll talk when he’s ready. With any kind of luck, I’ll still be around to listen when he does.
But none of that mattered. He was here for me now, his eyes gentle and filled with concern, his presence large and steady.
I shuddered, remembering how Savannah’s hand had looked against the snow. “How did she die?”
“We’re not sure. She’s pretty battered, though. If I had to guess, I’d say it looks like a hit-and-run, but we’ll know more after the autopsy is completed.”
Images I didn’t want filled my head. I forced them away and looked into Jawarski’s eyes. “Has anyone told Miles that she’s gone?”
Jawarski nodded. “Captain Palmer talked to him a few minutes ago.”
“How did he take it?”
“He’s pretty broken up. You can imagine.”
Yeah. I could. That was the trouble. “Is somebody with him?”
Jawarski nodded again. “Svboda.”
“Nate?” I gaped at Jawarski in disbelief. Nate Svboda might be a cop, but he’s also a friend of my brother’s—a middle-aged good old boy with the sensitivity of a Gila monster—and just about the last person I’d choose to console the bereaved.
I stood a little too quickly and felt my head swim. Jawarski caught my arm and kept me from moving. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To make sure Miles is all right. If I know Nate, he’s showing Miles pictures from the most recent issue of
Playboy
to make him feel better.”
Playboy
to make him feel better.”
“Sit down, Abby.”
“I’ll be fine. I just want to make sure—”
“I know you’re fine,” Jawarski snapped. “And so is Miles. Nate’s a trained police officer. He knows what he’s doing.”
Jawarski’s impatience irked me. “You don’t know Nate like I do.”
“I know he has everything under control. Now, sit down.”
I could tell he meant business, and I didn’t like it. Jawarski and I get along much better when he’s off duty. I tossed the blanket over the chair. “Sorry, Jawarski. I know you’re trying to help, but I’ve got too much to do to sit around feeling bad.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’?”
“What do you have to do? The contest has been postponed, Bea’s downstairs running the shop, and she’ll be closing in less than half an hour. What’s so pressing that you have to run off right now?”
“Closing the store is my responsibility,” I told him, “not Bea’s.”
He moved his hand from my arm to my hand and rubbed a thumb gently across my knuckles. “Maybe so, but I think you need to take it easy tonight. You’ve been through an ordeal.”
His touch did something to me. The urgency drained away, and my eyes burned, but I hate crying, so I pulled away slowly. I didn’t want Jawarski to take it personally, though, so I smiled to ease the sting of rejection. “Not nearly as much as Savannah went through. I’ll be all right. Just as soon as I can get the images out of my head.”
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