Murder in the Winter (16 page)

“You mean he confessed?”

“Not yet. Both of you are still in the race. I’m just
checking with everyone, eliminating anyone I can from the field.”

“Lieutenant, I never know when you are joking and when
you are serious.”

“Neither does my next-door neighbor. Goodbye for now,
Mr. Longworth, and thanks for the pancakes. If we owe you anything, bill the
department.”

Lou grinned at me as soon as he shut the door of the
inn. He was used to my antics. We stood and looked at the area in front of us.
Nothing had changed. Everything before us was white or brown, except for a
yellow bug that stood guard over the entrance.  Lightning looked magnificent in
front of that white background. Maybe some of the snow had melted, but most of
it remained.

21

We crossed the bridge which connected Overlook Inn to
the outside world and had gone only a couple hundred feet when Lou hollered. I
thought something had bitten him. It’s not often that Lou hollers when I’m
driving. His sudden ejaculation took me so much by surprise I hit the brakes. I
turned to my partner and realized he was pointing.

“Look, Cy. See those tracks. A car’s been in and out
of there recently.”

I looked where he pointed. There was a partial
clearing in the trees and tire tracks leading down to some place I couldn’t
see. The trees kept anyone driving toward the inn from seeing where the tracks
went, but if someone looked closely, they could see them as we headed back
toward town.

“Come on, Lou. Let’s see what we can find.”

“You’re just going to leave Lightning here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to take any chances in getting
stuck down there, and I doubt if anyone comes down this road for a while. Let’s
see where these tracks lead.”

In the first few feet, the makeshift driveway dropped
steeply from the road, then leveled off. All in all, it wasn’t more than three
feet down, but with my body I could do a lot of damage in three feet. We stood
still looking for the best way down the hill. There was no best way. Putting
one hand down, I tried to descend at a snail’s pace. It didn’t work. While I
didn’t  fall,  I  didn’t  stop  until  I  braced  myself  against   the rapidly
approaching tree. Lou tried to learn from my mistake. Evidently, I’d made no
mistake. Lou came to a stop two trees over. We stood still until our breathing
returned to normal. Well, normal except for the fact that we could still see
our breaths in the cold. So far, so good. We had stopped with all of our body
parts intact. I had heard no crunching metal from above, and no crunching bones
from within. I looked at Lou to get an idea what I might look like.

“Don’t look at me, Cy. You’re the one who’s always getting
us in trouble with these downhill treks of yours.”

“No one’s blaming you, Lou. Now, that we’re on relatively
level ground, let’s see where these tracks lead.”

What looked like relatively level ground was actually
a slight incline. Slight to a normal person. Severe to someone of my girth. We
trudged up the incline. Not up the hill we had rapidly descended, but one toward
town, between two stands of trees. The tracks led to a trailer, but there was
no car in sight. Whoever had driven there had left. We decided to check out the
trailer to see what we could learn.

From the weather-beaten look of the outside of the
trailer, it had probably been setting there for quite some time. Regardless of
how long it had been there, it had been somewhere for a long time. Only a
realtor could make it sound inviting. We plodded along in the snow until we got
to the wooden steps leading to the front door of the trailer. Actually, I don’t
know whether it was the front or back door, because both doors were on the same
side. I just knew that I wasn’t going any farther than I had to, so I stopped
at the first set of steps.

I knocked on the door, and just as we thought, no one
welcomed us inside. I tried the door and was surprised that it opened. I guess
that someone figured the trailer was hidden enough so that no one would find
it, so there was no need to lock it. Either that or the owner had lost the key.
I opened the door, called out, and after receiving no reply, I stepped inside.
I left the door open until I located a lamp and turned it on. I tried the
thermostat. The heat worked. Plus, there was a kerosene heater. While it wasn’t
the Ritz-Carlton, it could’ve been someone’s hideout, even in the winter. Could
it be that someone from the inn had used the place, taking away an alibi that
the lack of prints in the snow eliminated him or her as a suspect? What at one
time seemed like a case where one of two people were guilty had escalated into
one with many more suspects, including some that we hadn’t met. If someone from
the inn had used an underground means of escape, he or she could have gotten to
the trailer without leaving prints in the snow.

After perusing the place, it was obvious to us that it
was some actor’s hideout, or home away from home. That wasn’t surprising. It
seemed liked we had met only two people who had no acting experience.

We looked through a closet, but didn’t disturb anything.
There were a few articles of clothing, but nothing stood out. We checked the
refrigerator. It looked like mine. There were a few things to eat in a pinch, but
even a puny eater wouldn’t last more than a couple of days without going to the
grocery. Still, nothing appeared to be past its prime. Someone had been there
to keep things tidy, but then we already knew that. We searched the trash and
looked behind the couch, but found nothing of interest. We didn’t plan to leave
any evidence, either. If whoever was using the place didn’t return before our
footprints went away, no one would know we’d been there.

Unable to determine any information about the
trailer’s latest occupant, I opened the door and was hit by a blast of cold
air. I gingerly stepped down to the ground while clutching the thin, wooden
railing with my gloved hand. It wobbled enough that I knew if I fell against
it, someone would have to replace the railing. While I waited on Lou to follow,
I stood and looked at the tracks we had followed to the trailer. While the
footprints and tracks had not been obliterated, they were not clear enough to
tell who was responsible for them. As I followed them back to Lightning, all I
could determine was that the tracks seemed to lead to and from the inn. In all
likelihood, whoever last visited the trailer came from and returned to the inn.
There was no way to determine when that visit took place. Just that someone had
visited the trailer since the snowstorm on Thursday night.

Not wanting to catch a cold, I gathered my thoughts
and turned to the dilemma at hand. Our uphill venture back to the road would be
harder than our downhill escapade. If I had anticipated finding the trailer, I
would’ve brought a rope and tied it to Lightning, so two well-nourished men
could climb back up what amounted to a three foot hill. Only three feet. There
was a time that I could’ve taken a running start and made it up that hill. On
second thought, I don’t think I could’ve done that in my youth. I started
growing horizontally at an early age. More than likely my parents left me in a
short crib too long and I had to grow some way.

After several attempts to regain the road, we realized
that one step up followed by sliding three steps down would never get us to a
yellow bug that seemed so close. I considered rolling Lou up the hill, but
decided against it. I wanted to live until the case was solved. Once, after
repeated efforts, Lou made it up and reached out to pull me up. It didn’t work,
but at least Lou was back down where I was. Only the two of us were lying in
the snow, with Lou on top. It was not a pretty sight. We had met the enemy, and
it was us.

I located a copse of trees thirty feet up the road and
opted for Plan B. The hill surrounded by trees was around five feet, instead of
three, and we had to squeeze our husky bodies over, under, and next to
protruding branches, but we hoped to regain the road using this method sometime
before nightfall and before someone slid down the hill and into Lightning. By
grasping a limb and pulling an arm out of its socket, we pulled ourselves up to
the road. This was after one certain sergeant, who agreed to go first, released
branch after branch that whacked the face of a lieutenant who followed too
closely behind.

After what seemed like no more than two or three days,
our feet found asphalt. Well, there was asphalt under the snow. If we had
brought a flag, we would have planted it. We had gained the summit and found
the view to be good, but not good enough for déjà vu. At least, Lightning was
no worse for wear.  No blind actor on a snowmobile had been out joyriding. No
runaway semi ruined a policeman’s winter. At least that was something to be
thankful for.

The exercise experience had weakened us so much that I
shook uncontrollably and ate most of a Hershey bar and Lou downed two bags of
M&Ms before either of us gained the strength it took to hightail it back to
town. At least, if we embellished the details off our excursion in the woods,
it would be a story that someday we could tell to someone else’s grandchildren.
But for the time being, we would buckle up and follow the long and winding road
back to town.

+++

We took our time on the drive back, thankful that we
didn’t have to be rescued from downhill wanderings. Lou kept his eye out for
more openings on the right-hand side of the road, while I perused the trees on
the left. Each time we came to an opening, I gave a sigh, and scanned the area
for any recent activity. Luckily, we found no reason to leave Lightning for
more exercise. God was with us. On the way back to civilization, we saw no
creatures, living or dead.

+++

Forty five minutes later, we had returned to town,
with no new adventures on the way. The next place on my check list of the day
was a place I don’t go unless I have to, headquarters.

Louie Palona is a master when it comes to photography,
computers, or any other electric or electronic devices. He once told me that
with the right program, a few clicks with a mouse, and hitting a few other
keys, he could put people in places where they’d never been. Not knowing
anything about a computer, and not wanting to, I decided to leave that up to
him. I hoped he was lying to me. I’d had enough problems explaining the places
I had been.

All I wanted Louie to do for me was blow up three pictures.
When I shared this with him, he responded with, “a piece of cake.” I wish he’d
used a different expression. He made me hungry. Louie asked me if we wanted to
wait, but I told him we’d come back after lunch. On the drive in to town, both
Lou and I had heard the mating call of the Blue Moon.

+++

As always, Rosie seemed thrilled to see us.

“So, Rosie, what are you going to do tonight?”

“So, you’re finally asking me out?”

“You mean you don’t already have a date?”

“You know I do. But I can leave Pat and Alex for you.”

I knew what Rosie was going to do. What Rosie did
every night. Went home and watched
Wheel of Fortune
and
Jeopardy,
then cut the TV off because there was nothing else on, and reached over and
picked up a good book. Rosie split her time between reading murder mysteries
and romance novels. Not smut, but old-fashion romance novels. Still, not the
kind of drivel a man would read. I had forgotten to tell Rosie that Lou and I
were now reading whodunits. I planned to do that, just after we solved our own
mystery.

After pleasing Rosie by eating everything in sight,
and resting until we could make it back to Lightning unassisted, we returned to
headquarters to see what Louie had for us. He had a stack of pictures,
different sizes, some with a panoramic view, others that zeroed in on a
particular item. I refrained from kissing him, but thanked him profusely. I
gave up kissing men when I turned five. Or was it four? Three? Definitely, six
months.

I wanted to study the pictures, but there was another
errand we needed to run first.  It wouldn’t take long.  I pulled up in front of
Hilldale Taxi Service, and gave Lou the option of sitting in the car with the
heat, or going inside with me. He opted to remain where he was. I would’ve too,
except that I had no phone to call the taxi service to see if they would have
someone run out front to answer my questions. I extracted myself from the car
and pulled myself to a standing position. A few minutes later, I returned with
the information I’d sought. Only three taxis had picked up passengers anytime
after the snow stopped falling on Thursday night, and none of the pickups or
drop-offs were within a mile of my house or Oppenheimer Arms. Whoever paid me a
visit had driven his or her own vehicle or stolen someone else’s.

Tired from a long day, Lou and I decided to study the
pictures from the comfort of my dining room table. We opted for my place
instead of Lou’s, because Lou doesn’t have a dining room, let alone a dining
room table. Because we possessed the power to look ahead, we stopped by a
grocery on the way to my place to purchase snacks necessary to make it through
the rest of the afternoon. This time the good sergeant went in with me.
Twenty-seven dollars and forty two cents later, we were ready to rumble.