Murder in Vail (4 page)

Chapter Six

When they entered the foyer, Gwen took her packages immediately upstairs while the others went into the living room. The huge room was chillier than normal. Sally glanced at the fireplace and saw two unburned logs that didn’t even look like they’d been ignited.
Not surprising,
Sally thought.
Great fire, Glen.

“What a gorgeous tree, Mom,” Stephen said, stopping to admire it.

Rachel eyed it briefly, and then turned away with disinterest. She crossed to the loveseat by the fireplace and wrapped herself in the quilted afghan that lay folded across its back, pulling her knees up to keep herself warm. She started playing with her cell phone. “My phone’s not working,” she complained, pushing the buttons harder.

“Oh, we still don’t get cell service up here. We have to use the landline,” Sally told her.

“Great,” Rachel said sarcastically, flipping her phone back into her purse. “It just keeps getting better and better.”

If she doesn’t want to be here, why does she bother coming?
Sally wondered with annoyance.
Doesn’t she have some family she can go visit?
Sally would never understand how her charming, sensitive son had ended up with Rachel. It would be so much nicer if Stephen came by himself.

Aloud, she said, “It’s drafty in here, Stephen. Help me bring in some firewood. Let’s build a fire that’s worthy of Vail!”

Stephen grinned. “Sure, Mom.”

He followed her to the huge woodpile of fir and poplar logs on the deck behind the swimming pool and almost bumped into Helga as she came around the corner, loaded down with logs.

“Helga!ˮ Stephen exclaimed. “Merry Christmas. Great to see you.”

Helga nodded and gave Stephen a quick smile, but said nothing.

“Let me help you with those,” Stephen offered. “That’s too many. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“No, I fine, Stephen. I very strong,” Helga told him, continuing toward the house without stopping to talk.

Stephen and Sally both filled their arms with as many logs as they could hold.

“I’m embarrassed, Mom,” Stephen said sheepishly. “Helga can carry more wood than I can.”

“She’s amazing,” Sally said. “She grew up on a dairy farm in Sweden and had to carry huge jugs of milk. She told me she could carry three twenty pound jugs with each hand. She’s as strong as any man.”

“Remind me to never get on her wrong side.” Stephen laughed.

They went inside and filled the brass firewood rack next to the fireplace to the top. Sally liked to leave the building of the fire to Stephen. She always tried to find activities to keep him busy and his mind occupied with thoughts other than his desire for drugs. Smoking pot this afternoon definitely wasn’t a good sign.

Glancing at Rachel as she started to leave the room, Sally couldn’t tell if she was awake or asleep.  She looked like a zombie sitting there on the couch and seemed to be under the influence of something. Sally wanted to get her out of the living room.

“Rachel?” she said softly, touching her shoulder.

“Hmmm?” was her daughter-in-law’s only response. She didn’t move or lift her face.

“Let me show you up to your room. You’ll be more comfortable there,” Sally said, taking hold of her suitcase and rolling it toward the staircase.

“I’m okay here,” Rachel said drowsily, pulling the afghan tighter.

“No, no. Come on,” Sally insisted. “You’ve had a long drive, and you must be exhausted. Let’s go on up. You’ll feel better after a good, hot shower. Maybe you’d like to get in the hot tub later.”

“Yes, go on up, Rach,” Stephen said, turning away from the fireplace to speak to his wife. “I’ll be up in a while.”

Rachel reluctantly dragged herself up from the loveseat and picked up her shoulder bag.

She followed Sally through the living room, the foyer, and up the staircase without uttering a word. Sally had never seen Rachel at a loss for words but kept telling herself that she should be glad she didn’t have to endure one of Rachel’s usual, “I’m the expert on everything, and you’re an absolute idiot,” monologues.

Rachel came to a dead halt at the top of the staircase. “Are you putting us in the same room as last year?”

“I was planning on it,” Sally answered, turning to look at her.

“I didn’t like that room.”

Sally wasn’t sure what to say. Helga had prepared Stephen’s childhood room for them. Stephen always stayed in it when he was home, and there was no other bedroom available.

“Was there something wrong with it? It was Stephen’s room growing up.”

“I didn’t like it. It’s too small and there’s no balcony. I need it to you know—” she gestured puffing a cigarette.

“Well, the only other room ready that has a balcony, is Lance’s room, but he
likes—”

“We’ll take that one,” Rachel said, moving quickly past Sally and rushing down the hallway to Sally’s older son’s room. When she got there, she hurried inside and shut the door behind her.

“Wait, Rachel. Lance will be here any time now, and he will definitely want his room—”

“Just leave the suitcase by the door!” Rachel yelled through the closed door, cutting her off.

Sally could feel her blood pressure rising for the third or fourth time today. “This isn’t a hotel, Rachel.” She tried the door, but Rachel had locked it. Sally could hear the sliding glass door to the balcony slam shut.

Chapter Seven

Livid, Sally went to her bedroom and splashed water on her face. It didn’t help. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and could see that her face had the same red blotches that always appeared when she got angry. She took a couple of deep breaths and tried to compose herself before going back downstairs.

When she entered the living room, she saw leaping flames in the fireplace and Stephen pointing proudly to the hearth. “Now, that’s a fire!” he said.

Sally tried to smile. She really did appreciate her son’s efforts.  But Stephen could tell by her expression that she was angry.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked, coming to her side.

Sally didn’t want to upset Stephen right after he arrived, so in as calm a voice as she could manage, she told him, “Rachel said she doesn’t want to stay in your room again this year because it doesn’t have a balcony so she can smoke out there. She took her things into Lance’s room and has locked herself in. But you know how Lance is about his room, Stephen.”

Stephen grimaced.  “That’s going to be a problem.”

“Can you ask her to move back into your room? We don’t have any other bedrooms. I don’t get much company, so I converted one of the upstairs bedrooms into a study, and Helga has the downstairs one.”

Stephen looked doubtful. “I’ll try, Mom, but you know how headstrong Rachel is. If it has anything to do with her smoking, she won’t budge. I’ve tried to get her to quit so many times, but she won’t even try.”

Just then a commotion broke out in the front yard as snow and leaves began swirling and flying into the windows. A whirring sound became louder and louder, and when Sally and Stephen looked out the window, a helicopter was about to touch down in the front yard. Lance had arrived.

Sally’s oldest son had been obsessed with helicopters since he was a child when Sally and her husband let him ride along on ski trips. In Los Angeles, he owned his own helicopter and used it more than his car. He rented the one he was landing in the front yard in Denver.

Sally and Stephen put on their coats and hurried out onto the front porch. The wind from the swirling blades blew the branches of the nearby aspen trees and threw a sheet of snow through the air. Sally and Stephen stood under the portico for protection. They backed up as far as they could and put up their hands to block their faces from the flying snow.

When the helicopter came to a standstill, the pilot’s door opened and Lance jumped out. Zipping up his hooded blue ski jacket, he ran around the helicopter to open the passenger door. A woman with bright blonde hair stepped out wearing a long leopard coat and fur-lined boots. She took her husband’s hand. Under her other arm, she carried a small Yorkie, also dressed in a leopard outfit.

Lance led his wife, Yvette, to the door as if she were a princess. Yvette kissed the air in the vicinity of both of her mother-in-law’s cheeks. Sally pulled back trying to avoid the second air kiss, but she wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. Yvette’s Yorkie licked her on the cheek.

“Sally, darling, I’ve missed you so.”

“Well, thank you, Yvette. That’s sweet of you to say,” Sally said. She usually found Yvette’s compliments shallow and meaningless, but today she was happy to hear anything positive come out of anyone’s mouth. “And who is this little cutie?” she asked, scratching the Yorkie under its chin.

“This is my Duchess,” Yvette bubbled, as proud as any mother of a newborn. “Lance gave her to me for my birthday.”

“Well, she is just adorable,” Sally complimented.

Lance hugged his mother and slapped his brother on the back. “Stephen,” he said. “How have you been? Looks like you’ve put on a few pounds.”

“I have,” Stephen said, pleased. “It looks like you might have too,” he said, glancing at his brother’s rotund belly. “If we need a Santa Claus, we know who’ll play the part.”

Lance laughed good-naturedly. He had the same blue eyes and blond hair as his younger brother, but Lance made two of Stephen.

“All those great restaurants in L.A. are just too much temptation. And we’ve hired a private chef. Used to have his own television show. Now it’s just about impossible to keep the pounds off.” He laughed, adding, “You and Rachel will have to come out. Where is Rachel? Is she here?”

Stephen nodded. “Uh, I’ll tell you inside. Let’s go in. It’s freezing.”

“Heavy snow’s expected for tonight. It’s supposed to get down to four degrees,” Lance said. “We may be snowed in.”

Chapter Eight

“Beautiful tree, Mom. You outdo yourself every year,” Lance said cheerily.

“Yes, it’s just gorgeous, Sally,” Yvette agreed.

Goldie and Silver came running into the room and jumped up on Yvette, trying to get to the Yorkie. The tiny dog yelped and climbed up onto Yvette’s shoulder. The Yorkie’s entire body was trembling.

“My poor little baby,” Yvette whispered. “I won’t let those big mean dogs hurt you.”

She kicked at Silver with her boot. Lance jumped between them as if he were protecting Yvette from an angry mob.

“Mom, can you take Goldie and Silver out?” he asked. “They’re scaring Duchess.”

Annoyed that her dogs were being evicted from the house again, Sally grabbed Goldie’s collar. Stephen took hold of Silver.

“It’s okay, boy,” Stephen said, playfully roughhousing with the dog. “You get to go for a walk now.”

“I’ll take the dogs out back,” Sally said, not even trying to hide her irritation. She didn’t like her dogs being kicked. While Stephen held the dogs still, Sally took the leashes from a rack in the entry hall and hooked them to the dogs’ collars.

A loud noise rang out in the distance. “What was that,” Stephen exclaimed. “It sounded like a gunshot. Or was it thunder?”

“I’m not sure,” Sally answered, alarmed. “I hope it was thunder, but I heard there might be poachers in the woods. I certainly hope that’s not it.”

“Poachers!” Stephen exclaimed with distaste. “They’re the lowest of the low. They better stay off our land.”

“Poachers?” Yvette asked, looking at her husband.

“They’re hunters who hunt illegally,” Lance explained. “Deer season is over, and they aren’t supposed to be hunting deer at this time of year. And some of them hunt for bigger game, which is never legal, like moose, bobcat, and mountain lions.”

“Mountain lions!” Yvette shrieked, hugging her Yorkie tighter. “There are mountain lions around here?”

“A few,” Sally told her. “But don’t worry. They stay mainly to themselves and usually only come out at night. I’ve only ever seen one, when I was driving back from the village at dusk. It ran the minute it saw the car.”

Another shot rang out, this one closer.

“That was not thunder,” Stephen said. “Those guys are idiots. If they don’t get off this mountain soon with that storm coming, they’re going to be in big trouble.”

“Mom, be careful taking the dogs out,” Lance warned. “Poachers aren’t known to be the best shots.”

Stephen reached over to take the leashes from his mother’s hand. “I’ll take the dogs out, Mom,” Stephen insisted.

“No. Stephen. It’s ok. I’ll take them. You had a long trip. Relax and visit with Lance.”

Pulling the dogs on their leashes, Sally decided she would walk them next to the house rather than let them run loose in the backyard as they usually did. She didn’t want a poacher mistaking one of her Labradoodles for a deer.

As she led the dogs out of the room, she called back over her shoulder, “Yvette, Lance, make yourselves at home. Gwen and Glen are here. Stephen, talk to Lance about the sleeping arrangements. Whatever you decide is fine. Dinner is in an hour.”

“What’s this about sleeping arrangements?” Lance asked his brother.

“Well,” Stephen replied, trying to downplay the situation, “I haven’t been upstairs yet, but apparently Rachel doesn’t want to stay in my room and went ahead and took yours. She needs the balcony, you know, so she can smoke.” He added doubtfully, “Hope you don’t mind.”

Stephen rarely saw his jovial brother upset, but Lance was clearly peeved. He was very particular about his belongings—to the point of obsession. He always had been, especially with his collections. Growing up, Lance doted on his vast collections of baseball cards and autographed baseballs, comic books, stamps, and model airplanes. He still took tremendous pride every time he found a unique new addition. The idea that someone else was staying in the room with his treasures—particularly someone who was a smoker—was abhorrent to him.

“Oh no. That is not acceptable,” Lance said emphatically. “I’m sorry, Stephen, but you must move her back into your room. It’s too bad about the balcony, but my things are in that room.” He emphasized again, “
My things
.”

“I like Lancie’s room best,” Yvette added, backing up her husband. “It has the prettiest view. Rachel needs to get out.”

Feeling trapped and like he could use a hit of something, Stephen slunk out of the room and climbed the stairs to confront his wife.