Dead Giveaway (12 page)

Hal gave a bitter laugh. “I'd have a better chance of fixing a busted balloon.”

“How much farther?” Grace leaned close to Paul and shouted into his ear. The roar of the big snowmobile's engine made communication difficult.

“Five or six miles.”

Paul's words were whipped away by the wind and Grace huddled as close as she could. “What did you say?”

Paul turned his head and shouted. “Five or six miles! Do you wish to rest?”

“No! I'll turn into a solid block of ice if you stop.” Grace huddled down a little in the seat. They'd both dressed in winter parkas and ski masks, but it was less than thirty degrees outside and the wind chill brought that down to below zero.

“Drink the brandy, Grace. It will warm you.”

The snowmobile had come equipped with a plastic flask that fit in a holder on the dashboard. Grace reached for it and took a swallow. Flame's boyfriend's landlady's cousin had told them that the man who'd designed the holder and flask had made millions.

Paul swerved to avoid a pine tree. His fingers felt frozen even though he'd worn his choppers. The fur-lined leather mittens had been a gift from his relatives in Norway and he'd never had occasion to wear them before. Tonight he yearned for the whole outfit, including the fur-lined leather cap with the earflaps and the heavy woolen pants his ancestors had worn. Grace had given him a pair of warm-up leggings from her dance wardrobe, but they weren't designed for temperatures like this.

With great difficulty, Paul managed to pull up his sleeve to glance at his watch in the dim light from the dashboard. It was almost nine. They'd left Vegas at seven-thirty and it had only taken them twenty minutes to drive to the wall of snow in the road. Unloading the snowmobile had taken another five minutes, which meant they'd been out in this bitter cold for over an hour. They'd been forced to make several detours, and right now they were roughly paralleling the access road. Paul figured they should be able to see the lights of the building in a half hour or so. If they didn't run into more obstacles. If the snowmobile kept on running. And if he didn't smash into a snow-covered bump that was really a big rock.

They rode without speaking for what seemed like hours, with only the roar of the Arctic Cat's powerful engine to break the silence. Their headlight's narrow beam probed the frozen darkness and it reminded Paul of a bright yellow ribbon unwinding from an infinite spool. The moon was just rising over the tops of the trees and the snow seemed to glow with an icy blue light while the huge pines cast long purple shadows over its surface. If managing the snowmobile hadn't taken all his concentration, Paul might have enjoyed the sight.

“You all right?” Paul shouted back to Grace.

Grace leaned forward so her lips were close to his ear and called back, “I'm as all right as I'm going to get. We're almost there, aren't we?”

“Yes, Grace. We are almost there.” Paul tried to sound confident, even though he wasn't sure exactly where they were. The blanket of snow covered what landmarks the avalanche hadn't covered, but there was no sense in alarming Grace. They'd get there. He headed toward the peak of the mountain like a sailor taking his bearing from the polestar.

Grace tucked her head down and let Paul's body shield her from the full force of the wind. Even though the night was calm, the motion of the snowmobile created a blast of icy air past her face. She didn't want to look at the scenery. She just wanted to get to the building before she froze to death.

While Paul had inspected the snowmobile and received last-minute instructions from the owner, Grace had called every hospital in Vegas to find out if Moira or Jayne had been admitted. Neither name had been listed, but that hadn't changed their plans. They both had other reasons for making this long, cold trip.

Grace felt a little warmer as she thought of Vanessa. That damned woman made her blood boil. Perhaps it was a game to see how many men she could topple, but it was creating havoc in more than one household. Vanessa seemed to have one simple guideline: if a man was ambulatory and he belonged to someone else, she wanted to try him. And now she was snowbound without fresh victims. Would Vanessa turn to Moira when she ran out of men? Grace was betting on it.

As Grace sighed, her breath came out in a frozen cloud that was whisked away by the freezing wind. Moira was particularly vulnerable right now. She was forty-nine years old and gravity was taking its inevitable toll. She constantly complained about sagging and wrinkles and she couldn't help but feel flattered that such a gorgeous young girl was interested in her. Naturally Grace was jealous, but that wasn't the primary reason she was braving the elements to get up the mountain. She wanted to stop the woman she loved from making a fool of herself and getting badly hurt in the process.

Paul shouted something unintelligible and Grace leaned closer. “What was that?”

“The ridge!” Paul pointed off to the right. “We're almost there!”

They were climbing the steep ridge in switchbacks and Paul knew it was studded with boulders. But even though most of his concentration was required for negotiating the difficult terrain, he couldn't help but wonder what Jayne's reaction would be when they arrived. He hoped that the song he'd taken as an invitation wasn't just a song after all.

 

 

Walker had been skiing for over an hour before he reached the crest of Devil's Slope. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and adjust the bindings on his cross-country skis. From his high vantage point, he could see the lights of the building glimmering in the darkness, but he knew it was still miles away. Distances in the mountains were always deceiving, as he'd discovered on his first backpacking trip in Colorado. He'd set out one morning to hike to a mountain ridge that looked no more than an hour away. When he'd stopped by a stream to rest after four hours, the ridge still appeared an hour away. It had taken him the whole day to reach it.

With a sigh, Walker dug his poles into the crusty snow and pushed off again. There were two more ravines to negotiate and it was better to go slowly than risk snapping his ankle on the uneven terrain. Since no one knew he was coming, any serious injury meant he'd lie out here for days without being discovered.

Even though Walker had been anxious to start, he'd taken the time to find out that Jack was the injured party, hospitalized with a compound fracture and in stable condition. He was sorry that Jack was injured. He liked Jack. But at least it wasn't Ellen.

Walker began to ski cautiously down the ravine. He knew his descent would be even more dangerous in the dark, but he couldn't afford to wait until morning. He imagined what Ellen would say when she saw him lugging a backpack filled with dye. She'd probably tell him he was crazy. She certainly hadn't needed supplies badly enough for him to hitch a ride on the KLV traffic helicopter and ski down from the ranger's landing pad on the far side of the mountain, but it was a convenient excuse. The image of the loyal employee who slogged through the ice and the snow to deliver the goods made Walker chuckle. He'd never expected all this when Jack had called him in.

The moon was bright overhead and Walker took a brief moment to enjoy the sight. There was no doubt in his mind that Ellen would be glad to see him. He'd finally gained her trust and it hadn't been easy. Ellen was very cautious around men, and he suspected it was because she believed she was ugly. True, she was taller than average and a little on the thin side, but she was unusually graceful. And when she smiled, she was lovely.

There was a sound in the brush and Walker crouched, the gun materializing in his hand almost like magic. It vanished almost as quickly when he saw it was only a deer crashing through a thicket. Combat training. Even though there was no enemy hiding in these Nevada mountains, his quick reflexes had saved him more than once.

A sound broke the stillness of the night, the high-pitched whine of a motor from a distant ravine somewhere below him. Walker listened, his body poised. A snowmobile. Three miles away, maybe four. The sound bounced off the sheer walls of rock and made it difficult to locate with any accuracy.

Walker dug his poles into the snow and set off again. There was no use hurrying. The snowmobile would arrive long before he did. He just hoped it was someone who belonged at Deer Creek Condos. He'd have enough trouble dealing with the regular residents without adding a couple of curious visitors to the mix.

 

 

At Clayton's insistence, they'd covered the pool with the solar blanket, but Marc drew the line at declaring the whole penthouse off-limits. “Come on, Clay. We don't even know if those bones are real or not.”

“This is still a probable crime site and we have a civic responsibility to keep it intact for the police.”

Moira looked exasperated. “Fu . . . fudge! Those bones are old and we've been tramping around up there for the past four years. Isn't it a little too late to keep it intact?”

“It's like locking the barn door after the horse has been stolen,” Jayne jumped in. “Talk some sense into him, Rachael.”

Rachael put her hand on Clayton's arm. “I think we've done our bit by covering the pool, dear. After all, that's where the alleged bones are.”

“I don't agree. That cover is removable. If someone enters the water, the evidence could be dislodged.”

“Yuck!” Vanessa made a face. “I'm not going near that pool until they clean it. I'll tell you what, Clay. If it'd make you feel any better, we can all take an oath to stay out of the pool, scout's honor. I used to be a Girl Scout.”

Laureen couldn't resist. “And now she's a Boy Scout. She scouts out every boy she sees.”

“Cut it out, you two and take a look out that window! Somebody's coming up the ridge!” Alan pointed at a bright light cutting through the trees.

Marc rushed over to look. “A snowmobile. It could be someone from the ranger station.”

“That's not likely.” Clayton joined them at the window. “We told the paramedics that we were all right and didn't need supplies.”

Jayne came over to look. “It's got to be someone from town. The ranger would be coming down from the other side. I bet it's Grace.”

Moira laughed. “Not a chance! You know how Grace hates the cold.”

“Well, that thing's not driving itself.” Vanessa came up to peer out the window. “Maybe it's my fitness instructor. I had a workout session scheduled for tonight.”

Jayne's eyes widened. “Lordy, Vanessa! Your fitness instructor wouldn't drive all the way up here on a snowmobile, would he?”

“He might.” Vanessa preened a bit. “He's dedicated to keeping my body in perfect shape. It's almost a religion to him. And he knows that there's no way I'd let myself get fat and dumpy like some of the women in this building.”

Hal reached out to grab his wife's arm. “That's enough, Vanessa. If I were you, I'd shut up.”

“You want
her
to shut up?” Laureen snorted. “The only way to shut her up is to stuff something in her mouth. And I don't mean food!”

Jayne pulled Laureen over to the window. “Easy, Laureen. Don't let her push your buttons.”

“I can't help it, Jayne. Every time that little bitch makes a crack about my weight, I want to kill her!”

“Don't say that, Laureen. You know darn well you'd never do anything like that.”

“Maybe not, but I'm certainly tempted.” Laureen sighed. “Vanessa's causing problems for all of us, and I don't understand why Hal doesn't divorce her. He knows what's going on.”

“I don't understand it, either, but it's not our problem. Come on, Laureen, honey. Let's make sure we've got plenty of coffee. Whoever's on that thing's going to need some warming up.”

Clayton headed toward the elevator. “I'm going down to see who's on that snowmobile, and I'm going to ask them to inform the police. We might be hindering an important investigation. Shall I invite them up here to thaw out?”

“Of course,” Marc assured him. “But I wouldn't mention the bones, not to strangers.”

“Why not?”

“I've got a perfect buyer all lined up for Johnny's unit and he's a nervous Nellie. Even if the bones turn out to be a fake, it might queer the deal.”

Clayton looked thoughtful and then he nodded. “That does put an entirely different aspect on the situation. It's really no one's business except ours . . . and the police, of course.”

Jayne turned back to the window and gave a wry smile as the elevator doors closed behind Clayton. His self-righteous tone had changed the moment he thought it would cost him money. She guessed she really couldn't blame him. Clayton had drawn up the corporation bylaws and knew they had only thirty days left to find an acceptable buyer for Johnny's unit. If they failed, they'd have to divide the cost and buy it themselves. Of course, they'd eventually sell it and get their money back, but that might take a while.

The snowmobile approached the windows, and Jayne peered out into the darkness. She could tell that there were two people on the machine and her heart beat a little faster as she noticed that both of them were wearing ski masks.

Jayne sighed and turned from the window, reminding herself that Paul wasn't interested in her any longer. It was probably a couple of hardy reporters, braving the wind and the snow to get a firsthand account of the avalanche. Or perhaps Vanessa was right and one of them
was
her fitness instructor. Jayne had met him once and while he had a perfect body, he seemed short enough on brains to head up here on that snowmobile.

Betty Matteo sat alone in her suite, watching the television monitor. Her secret friend hadn't come tonight. Perhaps it wasn't time. He'd told her he could never come when anyone else was awake.

The revolving shelf right next to her bed contained hundreds of her favorite movies. Betty could play a DVD any time she wanted, even though she sometimes had trouble remembering how to read the titles.

She knew there was something wrong with her mind. It was a disease, and at first, she'd been able to remember its name. Now that was gone, too. One of the symptoms of the disease was that people forgot its name. There was a word for that sort of thing and Betty concentrated on trying to remember it. It took a long time, but she finally remembered. The name of the disease she had was ironic.

The man called Jack had been very patient about explaining things to her. And he was so good about wearing his name sign every time. Betty knew that she loved him. There was a good, warm feeling when he came into her room. And he was much nicer than Nurse.

Sometimes Betty took great pleasure in the fact that she couldn't remember Nurse's real name. Nurse gave her shots that confused her, that reminded her of the piñata she'd brought back from Mexico City. The gaily painted papier-mâché sculpture shattered when a blindfolded child hit it with a stick, spilling the contents down like rain, and that was exactly what the inside of her head felt like after one of Nurse's needles.

Betty wished she could tell Jack to find someone new for Nurse, someone who was kind and cheerful, someone who cared about her and wanted her to get better. But every time she tried to tell Jack about Nurse, she couldn't find the words. They were there in her mind and she thought she was pronouncing them correctly, but no one seemed to understand what she said. Names and words. They always eluded her. But she was proud that she still remembered how to use the remote control to switch through the forbidden channels.

It was growing dark outside and soon it would be time for her secret friend to come through the door. Betty was sure she'd known his name once upon a time, but she couldn't remember it now.

Betty turned her attention to the screen once again. The movie she was watching was very familiar and she put a blank disk in the machine to record it. She smiled as she saw the red light on the console start to glow. She could record a movie. That was almost as good as remembering names and words, wasn't it?

This movie took place by the water. It was a big swimming place and she almost remembered where it was. They'd covered it after the cowgirl had found something that frightened her. Betty smiled as she watched. She loved scary movies as long as everything ended happily ever after. And this movie had her favorite actors.

There were footsteps in the hall and Betty quickly switched the channel to something safe. No one could know she was watching the forbidden channels, no one except the man called Jack. He had warned her about it so many times, it was almost like remembering.

“Do you need anything?” Nurse opened the door and stuck her head in. She was a black-haired woman who looked like the bird who said “Nevermore,” with a sharp beak and beady eyes and black shiny feathers.

Betty tried to force out the word Nurse wanted to hear, but it was no use. She'd lost it.

“Water? A little snack?”

This time Betty remembered and she shook her head. That meant no.

“I'll let you watch television for another hour, but then you have to sleep.” Nurse came into her room to draw the drapes. She even moved like the
Nevermore
bird, with quick little steps. Her head turned from side to side and her glittering eyes watched Betty as she pulled the drapes to shut out the night. Betty shivered as she remembered that the
Nevermore
bird ate dead things called carrion.

How could she remember a word like that and then forget her friends' names? This disease was very curious. Things she hadn't thought of in years would come back in startling detail. She would know them for a brief instant and then she'd forget them again. Alzheimer's, that was the name of her disease. And it was progressive. She couldn't quite remember what that meant, but suddenly sadness overcame her.

“Buzz if you need me.” Nurse closed the door behind her. Immediately, Betty felt better. She knew she'd done everything just right. Nurse was gone and she hadn't given her the needle. Now she could watch the forbidden channels again.

Betty smiled as she used the remote control to switch to another movie. This one was even better. Two people were getting off a machine on skis in a big garage. The man turned toward the camera and Betty clapped her hands. He was a very important foreign actor and she was glad he'd come back to star in her secret movies. The cowgirl who shared her in-between name was in love with him.

 

 

“Here comes the elevator.” Vanessa watched the doors expectantly. “I bet it's my fitness instructor. Does anybody want to give me odds?”

Jayne shook her head. Even if she was a gambler, she wouldn't bet on anything concerning Vanessa.

Hal grinned. “What do you want to bet, Vanessa? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? More?”

“You know something, Hal?” Vanessa looked suspicious. “You never bet money unless you're sure. Did you see who was on that snowmobile?”

Hal shook his head. “I didn't see a thing, Vanessa. But I know it's not your fitness instructor.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I called yesterday and told him you no longer required his services.”

“What does
that
mean?”

“That means I fired him. I canceled your sessions, Vanessa. Since I'm paying the bills, I decided he was an unnecessary expense.”

“How could you do that to me?” Vanessa looked at her husband in shock. “I need my workouts!”

“Then you'll just have to use the spa like the rest of us. Let's just say I didn't approve of all the exercises he had you doing, especially that last little session you had in your room.”

Vanessa looked embarrassed for a brief moment. Then her expression changed to anger. “My workouts are private, Hal. You had no business spying on me! Besides, everything he does is part of my total body therapy.”

“That particular part of your body doesn't need any more exercise.”

“But, Hal . . .” Vanessa began to pout. “He's a trained expert. And I don't know how to do my workouts without him.”

“You can always borrow my Jane Fonda tapes,” Laureen said smugly. “She shows you how to do everything.”

Vanessa glared at Laureen. “Jane Fonda's only good for women over forty.”

The indicator light over the elevator blinked and Grace got out. Alone.

“Sh . . . shucks!” Moira gave a delighted laugh. “Grace! On a snowmobile?”

Grace nodded. “You never thought anything would drag me out in the cold. Right, Moira?”

“Right.” Moira rushed to embrace her, then poured her a cup of coffee. “I'm
really
glad to see you. But whatever possessed you to drive all the way up here?” Grace just smiled and Moira's face turned slightly pink. “Well! It's just incredible, that's all. You're the last person I expected to see. But Jayne said there were two people on the snowmobile. Who's with you?”

“That's a surprise. Clayton took him out to check on the building. They'll be up here in a couple of minutes.”

Jayne's heart began to pound in excitement. Who knew enough about the building to check on it? A structural engineer, of course. Or a builder. Or an architect. And he had to be someone they knew. If Grace had come up here with a stranger, she wouldn't have said it was a surprise.

The indicator light on the elevator blinked again and Clayton got out, followed by a man holding a red and yellow ski mask.

“Paul!” Jayne jumped from her chair and ran across the floor to meet him, barely managing to keep from throwing her arms around him. “My God! What happened to your suit?”

“It is in the mothballs. Are you well, Jayne?”

“Oh, I'm fine, but the avalanche almost killed us all and poor Jack's leg is broken something awful and just now I found a . . . a hand in our pool. And at first I thought it was yours!”

Paul looked down at her in total confusion. “You thought my hand was in the pool?”

“Yes, they have such a high suicide rate in Scandinavia. But that was only at first, before we found out that it was at least four years old. And I wrote you a song, but they'd never give it airtime on a classical station and I just couldn't call you on the phone. Something about talking into those little holes is so dang impersonal and I like to see a person's face when I . . . oh, I'm so glad you're here!”

“I think you had better sit down, Jayne.” Paul led her over to a chair and sat down beside her. “You are beginning to sound like Grace.”

Marc came over with a mug of coffee and set it down in front of Paul. “Here, Paul. Drink this. I put some brandy in it.”

“Thank you.” Paul wrapped one hand around the mug, but he kept his other arm firmly around Jayne's shoulders. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection in public, but he didn't want to let her go. “Will you join us, Marc? And I would be very pleased if one of you will tell me about the hand from the pool.”

It took five minutes with everyone talking at once, but finally Paul had the complete story. “So you can understand why we need to notify the police right away,” Clayton continued, moving his chair closer. “As Marc pointed out, there's the possibility that the bones are artificial, but we need the authorities to confirm it and we can't contact them by phone or e-mail. We don't have any means of communication at all now that Jack's shortwave radio is broken.”

Paul could see that Clayton was looking at him expectantly. “Is there something you wish me to do?”

“Yes. I know this is an imposition, but you obviously know how to operate the snowmobile. We think you should go back to get the police. As soon as you warm up, of course.”

Jayne stared at Clayton in absolute shock. “No way, Clay! If you're all fired-up to report those old bones, get your tail in gear and do it yourself!”

“She's got a point, Clay.” Marc laughed. “You're the only one here who thinks it's an emergency.”

“Is that so? No one else thinks we should go to the police immediately?” Clayton waited, but no one spoke up. “All right, then. I've never shirked my civic duty. Come on, Rachael. Let's go!”

Rachael frowned. “How did I get in on this? I agree that we have to file a report, but there's no reason why it can't wait until someone digs us out. Driving down the mountain at night on the back of a snowmobile is
not
my conception of civic duty.”

Clayton was about to make a sharp retort when he saw the tears that had gathered in Rachael's eyes. She was clearly terrified at the prospect of leaving and he reached out to pat her hand. “You're right, honey. The police can wait. I guess I just got rattled there for a minute.”

“Cabin fever.” Grace nodded. “I read a book about a family trapped in a blizzard, and how they were all going crazy knowing they couldn't get out, and the snow was rattling against the windows, and the wind was howling louder than a pack of wolves and they'd used up the last of their food three days ago, and . . . I know, Moira. I'm babbling again.”

Moira grinned. “I hate like h . . . heck to say it, but I was already beginning to miss your babbling. What do Norwegians do when they get cabin fever, Paul?”

“My grandfather carved the furniture in winter while Grandmother needled.”

“She what?”

“Perhaps the word is not right, but she used big balls of wool to make mittens and stockings.”

“That's called knitting,” Moira told him. “But they did something to take their mind off the weather, is that right?”

“Yes. The winter in Norway is many months.”

“Well, I don't make furniture and I sure can't knit.” Jayne began to smile. “Maybe we could do some work instead, like packing up Johnny's stuff. Will you guys help me?”

“I will help.” Paul was the first to offer even though he was tired from his long trip. Jayne had obviously been glad to see him, but he didn't know if her warm welcome would be extended to sharing their bed. There was bound to be an awkward moment and it might be wise to delay it as long as he could.

One by one the others chimed in, all except Vanessa. “I'm not setting foot in Johnny's place. Those two guys might be hiding out in there.”

“What two guys?” Hal turned to his wife with a frown.

“The mean-looking ones that were there the day he left. I went down to say good-bye, but I split right away. They were straight out of
The Godfather.
”

Alan pointed at the glowing indicator over the elevator door. “Somebody's coming.”

“Probably those mean-looking thugs from
The Godfather,
” Laureen suggested with a chuckle. “Maybe they're afraid Vanessa can identify them so they've come back to get rid of her.”

Vanessa jumped up. “I don't think that's very funny! You wouldn't either if you'd seen them.”

“Just take it easy, Vanessa.” Marc reached out to pull her back into her chair. “There's nobody hiding out in Johnny's unit. I personally guarantee it. I've shown it to buyers.”

Vanessa nodded. “Okay, I believe you. But who's coming up on the elevator?”

“Probably Betty's nurse. I stopped down there to tell her we'd be up here if she needed us.”

The elevator doors opened and Walker stepped out. While Marc rushed to get him some hot coffee, Jayne turned to catch the smile that was spreading across Ellen's face.

“Walker! How did you get here?”

“I took the KLV helicopter to the ranger station, and then I skied down. Who was on that snowmobile I heard?”