Tainted Mountain (8 page)

Abigail hurried to her bags. While Charlie and Abbey watched, Abigail bent to one of the smaller bags and rummaged inside. She held up a small bottle. “This is absolutely the best concealer on the market.” She handed it to Nora. “We'll have you looking decent in no time.”

The troll gave the knob a good crank to 6.

Cole picked up a suitcase. “I think Nora looks great.” An obvious lie, but greatly appreciated.

Abigail smiled at Cole. “It's a woman thing.”

Cole started up the stairs. Nora shouldn't allow him up to her apartment in case he wanted to plant a bomb or something. But it seemed that being blown up might actually be better than lugging her mother's bags up the steep flight. Exhaustion didn't begin to cover what she felt. Nora moved aside to let Cole pass.

Thudding on the metal stairs alerted her to Officer Gary. He stepped onto the deck and walked to Nora.

Cole stopped. “Didn't we decide you'd come back tomorrow?”

Gary spared him a stern look and turned to Nora. “I know this is a bad time but I need to ask you to not leave town for a few days.”

“Sure. I'll cancel my Mexican vacation.” It was stupid to be bellig
erent with cops, but Nora was beyond reason.

Charlie held his fist in the air, some hippy symbol of power to the people. “Unless you have a warrant, you're harassing my friend.”

Abigail put her hands on her hips and stared down Charlie. “You stay out of this.” She flashed Gary a smile. “I'm sorry, Officer. It has been a trying day, what with a funeral and those people in the parking lot and I don't even know why they were here. Nora's nerves are shot.”

Okay, maybe Abigail had her usefulness. She spoke with a tone of warm tea. “Nora doesn't intend on traveling, of course. Can you tell me what this is all about?”

Gary studied Abigail and let out a deep breath. He addressed Nora. “There is evidence of foul play in the death of Scott Abbott. As his wife, you are an official person of interest.”

The deck tipped and swayed. Scott's box hit the deck and for the second time that afternoon, let loose the bag of his ashes.

“Scott was … ?” She couldn't say it.

“Murdered,” Gary finished.

A suitcase hit the stairs behind her and tumbled after Scott's ashes just before Cole's arms closed around her and kept her from doing the same.

Eleven

One was not required
to bang the frying pan on the stove, slam the cupboard door, and clang the lid to make eggs. Yet Abigail never had mastered the art of making breakfast with the volume turned down. Nora wanted nothing more than to sleep again.

She rolled over and squinted her eyes. The vast empty bed bored a hole into her chest.

If what Bimbo said was true, Scott had posted the vacant sign over Nora's bed long ago. She'd been one argument away from sending him packing herself. It didn't stop the pain welling in her chest, nearly stopping her heart.

Murder. Her eyes flew open with the thud in her chest. It made no sense. Suspecting Nora as the murderer would be logical, though. No one else was ever angry with him. If Cole had told Gary about Bimbo's accusations, not even suitcase carrying could clear him of suspicions in Nora's mind.

Had someone really killed Scott? It had to be that Alex guy. After all, he'd attempted to murder Nora two, maybe three times already. Scott had died as collateral damage, an exchange for Nora. Which only made her feel guilty on top of battered.

The door swung open and Nora held her breath. Maybe Abigail would see her sleeping, take pity, and leave her alone.

No such luck.

“It's eight o'clock. You can't stay in bed forever.”

Nora rolled away. “Yes I can.”

The blinds zipped up, the window slid back, and the cawing of a crow exploded into the room. “I know it hurts, baby. But you have to put your life back together and the sooner you start the better.”

“Why do you hate me? I tried to be a good daughter.”

Abigail tsked. “None of that self-pity.”

Even if she wanted to, Nora couldn't rise. Her body morphed into something made of a substance more dense than lead.

“It's a new day. You can't hide away.”

“I'm not hiding, Mother. I'm mourning.”

Abigail sat on the side of the bed and patted Nora's shoulder. “I'm sorry about Scott's passing, of course. But he wasn't the quality person you deserve.”

Nausea welled in the pit of Nora's stomach. “I expected too much from him.”

“I tried to keep it to myself, but I never thought you should have married him.”

Nora sat up, toppling Abigail from the bed. “Keep it to yourself?
You've never missed an opportunity to trash Scott,” Nora said.

Abigail managed to keep from splatting on the floor and smoothed her shirt. “You should have married someone like Cole Huntsman.”

Age slowed Abigail not one bit. She still held the Flabbergaster Master world title. “What?”

Abigail stooped and whisked Nora's jeans from the floor. “He stopped by this morning to check on you. Now that's considerate.”

Nora swung her legs out of bed and snatched the jeans from Abigail. She stared at her mother and dropped them back on the floor. “You're sticking up for an environmentalist?”

Abigail let out a superior chuckle. “He's not an environmentalist. He's from Wyoming. Besides, I embrace the green movement. I recycle.”

“Do you eat local too? Ride your bike instead of drive? Or do you just throw your empty water bottles into the correct bin?”

Abigail put a hand on her hip. “Again with plastic bottles in landfills! I'm not a fanatic like you, if that's what you mean.”

“For the love of Pete.”
Gaa!
She had just used one of her mother's favorite clichés. “Would you go away?” She needed Scott. He provided Abigail Protection, one of Nora's favorite things about being with him. His deficiencies deflected Abigail from Nora's failures.

Scott. She saw his dark eyes twinkling with humor and heard his deep laughter. A slap of pain hit her like a physical blow. She sank back to the bed.

Abigail grabbed her arm. “No, you don't.”

How was it possible her cheeks were wet with tears? Scott didn't deserve her tears. But he hadn't deserved to be murdered, either. “I can't do this alone, without him.”

Abigail put her arm around Nora. “Of course you can. You've always been able to do anything you set your mind to. You've got decisions to make.”

“Like what?”

“For one thing, you'll need an attorney.”

Oh. That.

Abigail picked up the jeans and folded them. “Sooner rather than later. That podunk Officer Gary said you haven't been accused of anything yet but we need to be in control.”

“When they have that Alex guy in custody, it won't take them long to prove he pushed Scott and then came after me.”

Abigail tilted her head. “Of course. But in the meantime, you need counsel. I've watched enough
Law & Order
to know that without a lawyer you could be in trouble.”

Nora tugged against her mother. “I just want to sleep.”

“I know you do. What you're going to do, however, is brush your teeth. Then you'll come out to the kitchen and eat the omelet I'll make for you.”

Nora wouldn't admit it to Abigail, but she did feel better once she showered and dressed. She took the omelet to the deck and only worked through a fourth of the conglomeration before it fell to her stomach's floor. Leaning her head against the wood siding of the lodge, she closed her eyes to the sun and rested her hand on Abbey's head.

Bubbles of worry fought the murkiness of her brain. They needed to begin construction on the pipeline immediately if they—she—was going to make snow on the main run by Christmas. And what about money to pay the attorney?

Jail and/or bankruptcy loomed unless she drummed up the courage to ask Abigail for a loan. It was impossible to calculate the years of verbal sniping ahead of her for failing badly enough to beg Abigail for money.

The screen door of the apartment opened and the keeper of Kachina Ski's financial future, the heel that would grind Nora to emotional dust, descended delicately to the deck. “I was thinking we should get spiffed up and go shopping. New clothes will cheer you up.”

“My clothes are fine.”

Abigail didn't vanish, despite Nora's fervent prayers to any and all spirits of the mountain. “I don't want to be indelicate, but you must face the reality of your situation. You're no longer an attached woman. If you don't make yourself attractive, you may spend the rest of your life alone.”

“I'm not in the market for a new husband.”

“You say that now but loneliness sets in surprisingly fast and it's not fun. I miss Howard terribly.”

Nora stopped herself before saying,
Good thing he left you with yet another fortune to help you heal.
Nora was wicked and no doubt heading for the fires of hell.

Abigail's eyes filled with tears and, as if she controlled it, one single drop spilled from her eye. Not enough to ruin her makeup, just enough to make her appear vulnerable and strong at the same time. “It has been an extremely difficult year. I've fought every day to remain true to the Stoddard dignity.”

“You've been strong.”

Nora's husband died just four days ago and yet, all sympathy and attention needed to focus on Abigail's loss. Situation: Normal.

While things were bad, Nora girded herself to ask Abigail for money.

“Good morning, lovely ladies!” The shout came from across the ski run.

Saved by the hippie. She blessed the kachinas for their mercy in sending Charlie.

Abigail's hiss reeked of disapproval. “Honestly, Nora. I don't think you should allow that man around here.”

“I like Charlie.”

“But, dear, he's not really … ”

Nora waited while Abigail trailed off, then finished for her. “Our kind?”

Charlie stepped on the deck.

Abigail let out a deep sigh. “You know what I mean.”

Charlie walked over to Nora. “You are the sun and moon and bring meaning to my life.” He bowed to Abigail. “Your glittering visage takes my breath away.”

Abigail clasped her hands behind her back. “Oh posh.”

A black SUV crunched the cinders in the parking lot.

Great. Visitors.

Twelve

Barrett shut the door
of the Escalade and waited.

After a moment he reopened the door and put his head inside. “Staying in the car won't make me change my mind.”

Heather glared at him from the passenger side. “I don't see why I have to do this.”

“Be on your best behavior or Nora Abbott can make your life difficult.”

Heather didn't move.

Barrett shrugged. “Fine. You don't have to go with me to ask Nora Abbott's forgiveness and offer your services.”

She smiled and sat upright. “Thank you, Poppy. I'll be good, I promise.”

“You can wait for the judge to send you to juvenile detention.”
Boom
.

Out came that lower lip. “The judge might come up with something besides jail.”

Barrett raised his eyebrows. “We are McCrearys. We don't wait for others to decide our future. We take control.”

She crossed her arms. “What makes you so sure this Nora woman will hire me?”

“I've got ways.”

“You mean you've got money.”

“Something like that.”

Heather grabbed the latch and shoulder checked the door open. “Someday you're going to come up against a situation where money won't buy you out.”

She didn't know he couldn't buy the one thing he ever truly wanted.

Heather came around the Escalade and together they walked across the cinder parking lot and up the path to the lodge.

The girl stopped at the top of the stairs and Barrett gently pushed to move her forward. An attractive blonde about Barrett's age stood next to Nora and a few feet in front of the woman a decomposing mountain man gulped from a beer can.

God. Charlie. That dried-up piece of idealist turned up every-
where.

Barrett reached for Nora's hand. “How are you, Ms. Abbott?”

He'd read her profile. Graduated at the top of her class, smart, ambitious, not a bad looker. But she'd certainly struck bad luck with the drought. He'd seen her around town. She carried herself well, her red hair usually shiny, bouncing around a cheerful face with intelligent eyes. The last few days had been hard on her, making her pale and adding a shadow of grief to her eyes.

Barrett couldn't afford to feel guilty for causing her pain. Heather's well-being and protection came first. It was Scott's own fault he got in the way.

Nora gave Heather a stony expression but her face softened when she shifted to Barrett. “I'm fine, thank you.”

Charlie sipped his beer and narrowed his eyes at Barrett. He sank to a bench beside an older dog. “She's a woman of uncommon strength and breeding.”

Barrett looked away from Charlie without comment. It was just like Charlie to use that phrase, the old joke the three of them had shared about Ester.

The classy looking blonde smiled at Barrett. Now here was a woman worth looking at. He held out his hand, enjoying the rush of pleasure when she placed her delicate fingers in his. “I'm Barrett McCreary,” he said.

Her lips were full, inviting. “Nice to meet you, Mr. McCreary. I'm Abigail Stoddard, Nora's mother.”

“Barrett, please.” His blood pumped to places he'd ignored for too long.

“Barrett,” she repeated, looking into his eyes.