Double Black Diamond (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (21 page)

I stepped on his foot, probably harder than necessary, but I had ski boots on. Mine weighed about four pounds and that weight showed on Wade’s face, but he never stopped smiling. I ducked under his arm and made a break for it, but a hand reached out and Darren was holding my arm, twisting my coat in his fist. “Where do you think you’re going?” His face was all sneer. There were definitely no posters with that expression on them. “I need this. Get in line.”
 

“Let go or you’ll wish you had,” I said, yanking my arm away.
 

He didn’t let go. “You better shut up and color, girl.”
 
His face up close was much worse off than the other members of DBD. He’d really treated himself like crap and it showed in the lines and yellow teeth. A hand came down on Darren’s. “Be cool, man. She can go. It’s not about the women. It never was.” Jimmy Cave stood there with his larger-than-life brother, Wade, in the background and talked sense to the senseless.
 

Darren let go of me with a little push. “Damn straight.” He turned back and whoohooed to the crowd. It was so surreal. We were in front of all these people. I had the feeling if Jimmy hadn’t stepped in he would’ve cracked me in the face. Something was wrong. Darren was supposed to be the one who didn’t care about the band. He was a free spirit or so Dad had said. Darren would rather be climbing K2 or whitewater rafting than on tour. What the heck was going on?
 

Jimmy mouthed, “Sorry.” He turned and answered a question about concert dates.
 

I slipped away and went to duck past one of the bodyguards holding the line, the biggest one with a buzz cut that managed to make him look like a cartoon character. He touched my arm as I got to him. “I’d run and keep going if I were you,” he said in a soft melodic voice.
 

I paused. “Why’s that?”

“Because Mickey doesn’t love you.” He turned his attention back to the growing crowd that was now chanting “DBD! DBD!”
 

I headed back up to my skis where I left them lying on the snow. I practically had to smack people to get them to stop standing on them. I hooked them together and skirted the crowd toward Copper One. When I cleared most of the crazy, I spotted her, the girl with the tattoo who’d been at the table with DBD that first night at Aprés. She stood in the roadway, staring off in the direction that the ambulance had gone. It was cold out, but all she had on was a pair of black ski pants and a baby blue base layer turtleneck. I almost asked her what she was doing when she turned. Her pretty face was distressed beyond belief, everything short of tears showed in her dark eyes. But the instant she saw me that expression turned to fury and she stomped past me, intentionally throwing her shoulder into mine. I was so surprised I could only stand there. That was the action of a woman scorned. Who exactly did she think I’d taken from her? She was with Wade and as weird as he was, he’d shown no real interest in me.
 

“Fergus,” I said, not bothering to turn.
 

“I’m here.” From the sound of his voice he was two steps behind and it occurred to me that someone always occupied that place in my life, whether it was my mother, Aaron, or Fergus, someone was there for me.
 

“I’m glad you are,” I said.

“Really?”
 

“You’re a good witness and looks like I’m going to need that.” I went to the Copper One door and held it for Fergus. His young face never looked younger. He was shiny like someone buffed him with a chamois. He went in and stowed his skis in his locker and waited for me. We went in the elevator and my phone vibrated. I took a quick peek. It was Spidermonkey. “I’m in.”
 

I texted back. “Black nylon bag in evidence?”
 

“No,” he replied.
 

“No bag found on Rory?”
 

“No.”
 

“Rory’s phone in evidence?”
 

“No.”
 

“Can you trace last call through service?” I asked.

“Done. Last call to Rory came from a disposable cell. Pinged off the towers at 3:58 AM.”
 

“Where’d it come from?”

“Triangulation says inside Copper Mt. Resort,” texted Spidermonkey.
 

“U can’t get it tighter?” I asked.
 

“No.”
 

“Thanks.”
 

The elevator dinged at my floor and Fergus was looking at me expectantly. I felt a twinge of guilt. I wanted him to stick close, but I really didn’t know Fergus Borthwick. I couldn’t tell him what was going on and it seemed somehow mean to the guy. He was my stalker though and there are limits.
 

I stepped off the elevator and Fergus stepped right with me.
 

“Now you know when I said I was glad about you being there I didn’t mean at all times, right?” I asked.

“Right,” he said, but didn’t get back on the elevator.
 

“It would be weird to let you in our condo.”
 

“Yes.”
 

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Where are you going?”
 

“To my condo. I’m in 342,” said Fergus.
 

I smiled. “Of course you are. Just so you know I’m not planning on leaving the building tonight, so you can relax.”
 

Fergus got his key card out and started down the hall. “Okay. See you at dinner.”
 

I reached in my pocket and then spun around. “What do you mean dinner?”

“Aaron invited me. We’re all having dinner at their condo at seven.” He swiped his card and opened his condo. Five doors down. I should’ve known.
 

“Wait!” I yelled down the hall.
 

His curly mop reappeared. “Yes?”
 

“What are we having?”
 

“Something called menudo. Sounds delicious.”
 

Nooooo!

Chapter Thirteen

I tiptoed into the condo, hoping everyone was asleep, especially the stink dog, but I needn’t have bothered. The place was empty, except for the lingering odor of half-burnt lox, which was like having a very annoying uncle who won’t stop talking to you in the room. I know whereof I speak.
 

I peeled off my ski clothes and attempted to get in the shower. I say attempted, because it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. My legs were so burnt, I couldn’t lift my leg over the edge of the tub. I ended up filling the tub and sort of falling in. I did a half-hearted wash and shampoo because it was surprisingly hard to get my arms moving. I refilled the tub three times, trying to get the same effect as the giant hot tub down on the second floor, because there was no way I was making it down there that night. The good news was the repeated hot water did make my muscles feel slightly better. The bad news was that my hair dried naturally without a combing. My mom can get away with that. I think her hair is too scared to disobey. My hair, on the other hand, couldn’t care less what I think and it goes batshit crazy if not properly attended to. Even then it’s not a sure thing.
 

I could feel the curls forming in odd loops on top of my head, but I was too exhausted to do anything about it. After an hour I heard the front door open, and Pete’s voice call out, “Mercy?”
 

“Bathroom,” I yelled. “Come in!”

Pete entered mid-sentence. He did that sometimes and he was always surprised when I didn’t know what he was talking about. “So I told him I’d find out.”
 

I blinked slowly. That’s how much energy I had. “Find out what?”
 

He gave me a look that said, “Duh.”
 

“I need the whole sentence,” I said.
 

Or not. I’m pretty tired.
 

“Why you’re not answering your phone,” said Pete, sitting on the edge of my tub.
 

“I’m answering. Nobody called.”
 

Pete took my phone off the toilet lid. “It’s off.”
 

I did not remember turning it off. It must’ve been protective instinct. No phone calls means no problems. But honestly, I’m not sure I could’ve reached and grabbed the thing anyway. “How’s Nina?”

“Dislocated shoulder. Went back in fine. Minor concussion. They’re heading back now,” said Pete. “Don’t you want to know who called?”

Not really.
 

“Fine. Who called?”

“Detective Carey. Many times. Why didn’t you tell me that Nina Symoan’s accident wasn’t an accident?” he asked.
 

“I didn’t think of it. I should’ve waited for Carey to show up. I just wanted to get away.”
 

Pete’s expression changed from exasperation to something else that I couldn’t immediately identify.
 

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
 

“I saw the pictures.” He fiddled with my phone. If he saw those Spidermonkey texts I was toast.
 

With a burst of energy I slipped around, pressing my considerable breasts against the side of the tub, a position that usually distracted him from, well, anything. I hadn’t thought it through as usual.
 

“What happened to your hair?” he asked with an Elvis lip raise.
 

Darn. “Is it that bad?” Any distraction is a good distraction when trying to get away with something.
 

“Kind of reminds me of the gatekeeper in
The Wizard of Oz
.”
 

I forced my hand up and there was an unfortunate center part with a row of curls on either side. How does that even happen? While Pete was checking out my worst hairdo to date, which is saying something after my scuba hair in Honduras, I plucked my cellphone out of his hand. I closed my eyes. Whew.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.
 

My eyes popped open. “I heard you.”
 

What was I supposed to hear?

“You could’ve at least mentioned this to me. I deserve that much.”
 

“Ummm…what?” I would’ve tried to look fetching and innocent, but with the hair it would be ludicrous.
 

“For god’s sake, Mercy. You’re working for DBD, the most notoriously lecherous band in history.”
 

“Oh, that.”
 

“Yeah, that.”
 

Pete was mad. It took me a second to wrap my head around it. He rarely got mad about anything. Exasperation was much more common.
 

“It’s not what it looks like,” I said. “Did you say something about pictures?”

“It’s all over the internet. Surprise. Surprise. You posing with Wade Cave. I was with Mickey and Nina when they found out. He threw a chair,” said Pete.

I sat up. “Why? Hiring me as a model was Mickey’s idea. I’m supposed to replace Nina.”
 

“As his girlfriend.” A flush came up from under Pete’s collar making him two tones, super white and red.
 

“I don’t know why Wade said that. He’s out of his mind. Mickey wants a new model. Nina was in all the videos and the album covers. Her face was their thing. I’m not really going to do it.”

The red went to pink. “You’re not?”
 

“I agreed under duress.”
 

“Because you put that guy in a choke hold? There are pictures of that, too,” said Pete in a calmer voice.
 

“It wasn’t a choke hold. I was just getting him out of the way,” I said. “Are you afraid your parents will see those pictures?”

“They’re not going to be on NPR.” He stood up and leaned against the wall. “I just want things to be normal.”
 

I bit my lip. How could I explain? I didn’t look for trouble. It showed up on its own. And I wasn’t like everyone else. He’d met my family. They precluded normal.
 

“It could’ve been you,” he said. “That snowboarder could’ve hit you. Nina got lucky. You might not have.”
 

“I’ve lost track of what you’re mad at.” I stood up, chilly water running down my body. Pete gave me a towel and watched me. His face was so sad, shades of the tattoo girl before she turned on me.
 

“What is it?” I asked.
 

“You don’t know how much I worry about you,” he said.
 

“I didn’t know you worried at all.”

“Look at the stuff that’s happened since I’ve known you. You’ve almost been killed three times. You’ve been beat up and shot at.”
 

Three times?

“I think it was twice,” I said, counting close calls in my head.
 

“And that’s better?”
 

I thought so, but clearly Pete didn’t.
 

“So you don’t like the way I am? I don’t know what to do about that. You knew who I was long before we met. You saw me in the paper. Remember? Did you think it would never happen again?”

“Of course I did. You’re a nurse,” he said.
 

I stomped out of the bathroom and went to get dressed. Pete followed me and sat on the bed ,silent. I threw on a henley shirt and jeans and turned on him. “What do you want me to do?”
 

He stood up and wrapped his arms around me. I was stiff as dried pasta.
 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear.
 

I softened in spite of myself.
 

“I didn’t expect those pictures and you working for DBD, it’s insane.”
 

“You know they’re older than my dad, right?” I asked.
 

“It wouldn’t stop some girls.”
 

“Are we talking about some girls or are we talking about me? Because I’m not interested in ’80s rockers and it’s not my fault that Nina got hit today.”
 

“I know. You’re just not like anyone else. Guys come from Scotland to stand in your shadow. Sometimes it’s hard to take,” he said.