Murder in Vail (16 page)

Chapter Forty-seven

Sally and Gwen climbed into the helicopter and strapped themselves into their seats. After a couple of moments, they were in the air. Sally hadn’t been in a helicopter in nearly a decade, and it brought back happier memories of ski trips she’d taken with her husband.

The sun had gone down, but the moon was almost full, so they gazed out at the lighted silhouettes of the mountain peaks below. Sally reached out and took her daughter’s hand.

“You were so brave, Gwen. That trip down the mountain couldn’t have been easy in this weather. And it had been so long since you skied. I’m so proud of you.”

Gwen squeezed her mother’s hand. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, Mom, but also one of the most exhilarating. I loved skiing down that mountain. You know me. I got going too fast and when I went around a curve, I hit a fallen limb and went flying. I don’t know how long I was out.”

“That bump on your head looks like it must have hurt, poor thing.”

Gwen automatically reached up and touched her forehead. “The EMT in Vail checked me out. He thinks I may have had a small concussion, but I’ll be fine.”

Gwen recounted to her mother the story of the ATV trip with the teenage boys and catching the ride into Vail in the Coors truck.

“You had quite an adventure!” Sally said. “I’m just sorry you had to go through all of that for me.”

“Don’t be sorry, Mom,” Gwen said, turning toward her mother in the darkness. “I know I don’t always show it, but you know how much I love you and that I’d do anything for you.”

Sally reached over and hugged her daughter. “Well, you certainly proved that today, Gwen. You really came through for me. I never would have agreed with your going if I hadn’t believed you could do it. I knew you had it in you.”

Gwen leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“You know what surprises me most, Mom? I really enjoyed today. Other than hurting my head, I think it’s one of the best days I’ve ever had. It was so challenging. I really feel like I accomplished something important. That’s so satisfying.”

“You did accomplish something very important, Gwen. You probably saved my life—and maybe others too. You are definitely my hero.”

  “Me? You’re the hero. I can’t believe the ordeal you survived.”

  Sally glanced out the window, a stoic expression on her face. “I guess I am fortunate that whoever tried to kill me chose the one way that I could do something about. I got lucky—if you can call it luck to have one of the people you’re closest to in the world try to murder you on Christmas Day. It doesn’t get much worse than that.”

Gwen rubbed her mother’s arm gently. “Mom, let’s not think about that now. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters. Let’s just be thankful for that. We should be celebrating. Remember what you always told me, Mom? Count your blessings.”

A small smile crept onto Sally’s lips and she nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right, Gwen. I am definitely counting my blessings tonight. We should celebrate. Maybe we can talk the police into letting us get some dinner when we get there.”

“You must be hungry,” Gwen said. “I brought you as much food as I could, but it wasn’t much. Did you have enough?”

“I was rationing it, so I still had quite a bit left. I knew if you had problems getting down the mountain, it could be days. But the muffins and bananas were great. The hard part was being really quiet when I ate.”

“What did you do all day?”

“I stayed in bed and tried to sleep. I didn’t want to get out of bed and take the chance of someone hearing my footsteps or a floor board squeaking. But one time, someone rattled the door and tried to get in. That scared me.”

“That is scary! Thank goodness they couldn’t get in.”

Sally sat back and watched the moonlight glimmer off the mountain peaks. She suddenly felt so happy just to be alive to enjoy the gorgeous scene.

“I’m starving!” her daughter said, breaking her reverie.

“I’ll bet you are after the day you had.”

“All I ate all day was some beef jerky and a cup of hot chocolate.”

“You? Beef jerky? I can’t imagine that.”

Gwen laughed. “I know. There were so many times today when I’d think, ‘If my bridge club could see me now!’ But at the same time, it made me feel really good that I wasn’t back in Palm Beach with my friends. I felt more like me today, and it felt really good.”

Sally and Gwen held hands as the lights of Vail began to appear out the window. In a matter of minutes, the helicopter landed at police headquarters.

Chapter Forty-eight

The mountaintop house was swarming with police. The helicopter made two more trips carrying crime scene technicians and more uniformed officers who began a full-scale search of the house. Sally’s family members sat quietly on the couch, bewildered and barely talking, as they watched all the activity around them.

Crime technicians carrying large cases full of equipment scurried to the bedroom upstairs where the attack on Sally took place, as well as to the master suite where Rachel died. Uniformed police seemed to be searching every inch of the house. A hush fell over the living room as a black body bag containing Rachel’s body was carried on a stretcher through the foyer to the awaiting helicopter. Sitting on the edge of the couch, Stephen covered his eyes with his hands. He asked the detective if he could accompany the body to the coroner’s office but was promptly turned down.

“That’s not right,” Lance complained. “Stephen should be able to go with his wife.”

Lance’s frown deepened when he walked to the door of the foyer and saw three police officers walking down the upstairs hallway toward his bedroom. He immediately approached Detective Jackson.

“Detective, I understand that you have your job to do and that searching the house is an important part of your investigation. I would just like to ask that your officers be careful with the contents of my room. I have several valuable collections in there that must not be damaged.”

The detective studied Lance for several moments. Finally, he answered him with a frown. “I assure you, Mr. Braddock, that our officers are always under instructions to disturb as little as possible in their search. But search they will. This is a murder investigation, sir.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course, I understand that,” Lance responded quickly, “and there is no one more concerned than I that the guilty party be captured. I just want care taken with my valuables.”

Expressionless, the detective nodded at Lance. “Don’t worry. Our officers will be responsible with your belongings.”

Lance thanked him. “Detective, when do you think we’ll be able to return to our rooms?”

“Oh, not for quite some time,” the detective answered. “We’ll let you know when the upstairs rooms are cleared. But for the time being, Mr. Braddock, we’re setting up interview rooms in the dining room, the kitchen, and the downstairs study. We’ll be doing extensive interviews with all members of the household. Actually, we’re almost ready to begin. You’ll be interviewed first in the kitchen, and we’ll speak to your wife in the dining room.”

Detective Jackson made an announcement to the group about the interviews and ordered them to remain in the living room unless they were being escorted to an interview room. “Anyone needing to use the facilities will be escorted by an officer.”

Yvette whispered to Lance. “It’s like we’re all suspects and under arrest.”

“We basically are,” Lance said, taking hold of her hand. “The detective just told me they want to interview you in the dining room. They’re interviewing me in the kitchen.”

A look of panic entered Yvette’s eyes.

“What should I say?”

“Just answer their questions as best you can,” Lance told her. “The sooner we get these interviews done, the sooner we can get out of here.”

Each family member and Helga rotated through the various police interviewers, some of the sessions taking up to two hours or more. Detective Jackson went back and forth between the interviews and checking with the crime technicians upstairs. By midnight, there seemed to be no end to the questioning in sight, and Helga asked if she could prepare some sandwiches and cold drinks for both the family and the police. The detective readily agreed and an officer accompanied Helga to the kitchen where she put together dozens of roast beef, ham, and tuna fish finger sandwiches, along with potato chips and cookies. All the food disappeared quickly.

The dogs had been howling at all the strange noises in the house on and off the entire evening. Stephen asked if Goldie and Silver could be taken out for a walk, and he was told two officers would walk them. Stephen led a policeman and a policewoman to the laundry room and calmed down the excited dogs long enough to attach their leashes to their collars. The friendly dogs didn’t mind being taken for a walk by the strangers, and eagerly accepted dog biscuits offered by the officers. But they barked for a half an hour straight when they were put back in the laundry room.

Duchess fared much better. A burly policeman with a grey crewcut took her for a long walk in the front yard and seemed to fall in love with the little dog. While keeping his eye on the family in the living room, he held Duchess, gave her treats, and talked baby talk to her the entire time Yvette was being interviewed. When the interview was over, he reluctantly handed her back to her owner.

A little before 1:00 a.m. Detective Jackson stood before the group with two technicians. “To begin eliminating people as suspects, we will need to take your fingerprints and get a DNA sample from each one of you. It’s just a swab in the mouth and is not painful.”

“Is this necessary, Detective?” Lance said. “It feels like an invasion of our privacy.”

“I don’t really like the idea either, Lance,” Glen said. “Maybe we should all wait to speak to an attorney first.”

The detective eyed them impassively. “Well, you don’t have to agree to it if you don’t want to. But it will definitely make us wonder why you don’t want to cooperate.”

They all looked at each other uncomfortably. It was clear that none of them really liked the idea. But after several moments of discussion, everyone finally agreed to submit to being fingerprinted and having the DNA test done.

Immediately afterward, the helicopter took off, transporting the samples to the lab.

Chapter Forty-nine

Gwen had never really been a fan of junk food, but the pepperoni, sausage, and mushroom pizza from the pizzeria up the street from the police station tasted better than any food she’d ever eaten.

“Oh my God,” she moaned as she swallowed the last bite of the last piece of the large pizza. “Can we get another one?”

Detective Lindsey Belton chuckled at Gwen and her mother as they finished wolfing down pizza and Pepsi on the wooden end table in her office.

“I don’t see why not,” answered the athletically-built, auburn-haired detective who stood before them, leaning on the edge of her desk. “After what you’ve been through today, you deserve it.”

“This is Christmas dinner.” Gwen laughed. “Maybe the best one I’ve ever had.”

The young detective told them that rooms were being held for them at the nearby Marriott Hotel.

“But if you’re not too tired, Detective Jackson asked if I would interview you both tonight to get more details about the crime. It will help expedite the investigation.”

Gwen glanced at her mother. “Are you up to it, Mom? Did the doctor’s exam tire you out too much?”

Sally had a light adhesive bandage on her left wrist. “I’m fine. He just wrapped my wrist. Luckily, it wasn’t a sprain. The doctor said it should be fine in a couple of days.”

Sally studied Gwen, who looked like she had run a marathon. “If it will help, I’m happy to be interviewed tonight,” Sally volunteered. “But I’m not sure you are, Gwen. You’ve been through a lot today.”

The detective made a suggestion. “Gwen, I’ll order another pizza for you. Just take your time here relaxing and finishing dinner. Your mother and I will go into the interview room and talk for a while.”

Gwen agreed and Detective Belton led Sally into the drab room that contained only a small table and two metal chairs. Sally sat across from the detective who told her she was recording their conversation.

Turning on the tape recorder, the detective asked Sally if she had any idea who might have tried to smother her and if she had been able to catch a glimpse of the person.

“I wish I had,” Sally answered. “The room was dark and with the pillow over my face, I couldn’t see anything. But the person was strong. They put a knee on my stomach and kept pushing down. I tried, but I couldn’t push them off.”

“Did you have a sense of whether it was a man or a woman?”

Sally tried to think back. The person was strong. That was all she knew.

“The person had a lot of strength, but I was caught so unaware being woken up that I’m not sure. I guess it could have been a woman.”

“Could you tell what the person was wearing?”

“Some kind of a jacket, I think, and gloves. I felt the gloves on my wrist when I was trying to fight them off. I felt them twist it.”

The detective jotted down the information about the gloves on a notepad she had with her.

“Did you notice anything else? Any smells? Maybe soap, shampoo, lotion?”

Sally concentrated for a few moments. Everything had happened so fast. Finally, she said, “I don’t think so. I don’t remember smelling anything.”

“What about sounds? The way the person breathed, possibly a comment or an exclamation?”

Sally shook her head. “No, the way the pillow was pushed so far over my head, I couldn’t hear anything.”

“When the assailant was finished and thought you were dead, could you see anything, hear anything?”

“I was pretending to be dead, so I was afraid to move or open my eyes. I didn’t hear anything.”

The detective thought for a minute. “What about the pillow? Was it one from your bed or did the attacker bring it along? Could you tell?”

Sally’s eyes lit up. “I’m pretty sure the pillow was brought from another bed. I had the two pillows from the bed I was in under my head. And the room was dark. They wouldn’t have been able to find a pillow.”

The police detective wrote a long note about the pillow.

“And, were you wearing make-up when you went to bed? Or had you taken it off?”

Sally thought back. She had been so upset about Rachel that day, that she might not have taken the time to take off her makeup.

“Rachel’s death was so devastating, that I don’t even remember if I put much makeup on that day. I just sat in a rocking chair most of the day and then went up to bed. I think I took a quick shower, but I don’t remember specifically taking any makeup off. So, some might have come off on the pillowcase.”

Again, Detective Belton wrote a lengthy note on the legal pad.

“Okay. Now tell me about your daughter-in-law, Rachel. She died the night before, is that right?”

Sally hung her head. Every time she thought about Rachel, she felt so guilty. If it hadn’t been for her, Rachel would still be alive.