Murder in Vail (11 page)

Chapter Thirty-one

Gwen closed the door to Stephen’s bedroom just as Duchess came running down the hall. Yvette wasn’t far behind. “Shhh,” she whispered. “Mom’s still asleep.”

Yvette picked up Duchess, and they walked downstairs together. “It’s so cold,” Yvette said, pulling Duchess close to her and rubbing the dog for warmth. Both wore festive red and white sweaters, and Duchess wore a little red velvet collar.

“I know. The power’s off,” Gwen said as they reached the bottom of the staircase. “But look, that will warm us up.”

A huge blaze in the fireplace lit up the living room. Stephen stoked the fire, while Lance straightened the remaining logs in the rack. “Look, honey,” he said proudly as the women approached. “Stephen taught me how to build a fire.”

“Ooh!” Yvette squealed, warming her hands. “It’s beautiful.”

“Merry Christmas, cupcake,” Lance said, wrapping his arms around his wife.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Lancie.” Yvette gave him a peck on the cheek. “When are we going to open presents?”

Stephen looked away. His improved spirits seemed to disappear as he realized his wife wasn’t there to celebrate Christmas with him.

Lance picked up on it immediately. “I’m not sure, honey. We’ll decide later.”

“Let’s get something to eat,” Gwen suggested. “We can’t cook, but there should be some fruit and pastries or something.”

When they got to the kitchen, Goldie and Silver were in the corner eating from their bowls. Yvette stopped in the doorway and lifted Duchess to her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Helga said. “I let dogs out for a while for some exercise. Not much room in laundry room.”

“I’ll take them outside for a quick walk after they eat,” Stephen offered.

Yvette turned around and walked into the dining room with the Yorkie until Stephen and the dogs went outside.

Gwen went to the refrigerator and opened the door to see what they could eat without cooking it.

“Don’t open refrigerator door!” Helga yelled. “Must keep cold in or food spoil.”

Gwen shut the door immediately. “Oh, I’m sorry, Helga,” she said nervously. “I hadn’t thought of that. We just wanted to get some breakfast.”

“I look in pantry.”

Helga brought out two packages of blueberry muffins, some energy bars, three oranges, some bananas, and a box of raisins. She set them on the kitchen island.

“Not the best Christmas breakfast,” Gwen said, peeling a banana. “But it’s better than nothing.”

Stephen came back in and immediately took the dogs to the laundry room. A familiar scent wafted across the room.

“Seriously?” Gwen said, looking at Lance. “He never misses an opportunity, does he?”

Stephen came to the kitchen table and took a big bite out of a muffin.

“Got the munchies?” Lance asked.

Stephen started to reply when the lights came on. They all cheered.

Lance ran to the back door. “Way to go, Glen!” he boomed.

Gwen yelled out, “I’m so impressed.”

Glen raised his arms in victory and started making his way back to the house.

“Guess I can open the refrigerator now?” Gwen asked, glancing at Helga.

Helga shrugged. “Sure.” Helga plugged in the coffee pot and the kitchen came alive with the sounds of breakfast. The coffee percolated, the toast popped, the bacon sizzled.

Gwen was busy preparing a tray of food. “I’ll take this up to Mom. She should be getting up by now. This is late for her,” she said over her shoulder as she walked out the kitchen door.

Gwen called back from the foyer. “If she’s not up, she needs to get up. It’s Christmas.”

A few minutes later, there was a blood-curdling scream from the second floor that had everyone running up the staircase for the second day in a row.

Chapter Thirty-two

Everyone followed the sound of the screams to Stephen’s bedroom, where Sally had spent the night. When they rushed in the door, they found Gwen kneeling on the floor next to the bed. Her mother was lying on her back and looked like she was asleep.

Gwen turned around and stared at them, a shocked expression on her face. “Mom is dead.”

“What!” Stephen cried in an anguished voice, stepping forward.

“No,” Lance choked. “No!” He rushed to the bedside. The others moved closer to see Sally.

“Sally!” Helga cried, reaching out.

Gwen turned around angrily, tears rolling down her face. “Don’t anybody touch my mother! One of you murdered her. Get away from her!”

They all stopped in shock at Gwen’s words and stepped back.

“Are you sure she’s dead?” Yvette asked, her eyes misting with tears.

Gwen nodded. “I’m positive. There’s no pulse and her body is cold. Just like Rachel’s.”

Helga screamed and collapsed on the floor. Yvette bent down to comfort her.

“This can’t be happening!” Stephen cried. “First my wife. Now my mother. What is going on in this house?”

“But, Gwen, why do you think she was murdered?” Glen asked. “Couldn’t it have been a heart attack or a stroke or something?”

Gwen shook her head. “Mom was in perfect health. She just had a full check-up.”

“Maybe it was poison,” Lance said, eyeing Helga.

“But, Lance,” Yvette said. “Sally barely ate anything yesterday. And she didn’t eat anything we didn’t eat.”

“No, I think she was smothered,” Gwen said.

The others stared at her as if they didn’t understand.

“Smothered?” Lance said. “Why would you say that?”

“Look at her wrist. See how bruised it is. It wasn’t like that yesterday. I think she was trying to fight somebody off. At first I thought she might have been strangled, but there are no marks on her neck.”

“Smothered!” Helga gasped. “One of you kill Sally for the money. You kill her before she could give it away.”

“Now, Helga,” Lance said. “Don’t jump to any conclusions. No one here would kill my mother. We all loved her.”

“Someone killed her,” Stephen said, looking suspiciously around the room. “A lot of people are going to get rich now.”

“Yourself included,” Glen reminded him.

Yvette gasped as she realized something. “Oh my God,” she said slowly.

Everyone turned to look at her. “What, honey?” Lance asked.

“Sally and Rachel switched rooms and nobody knew. The killer thought Rachel was Sally and killed her by mistake.”

The room became silent as the realization sunk in.

“Oh my God. You’re right!” Stephen cried. “Rachel was smothered too. I knew it wasn’t an overdose. I knew it.”

Stephen glared at the others in the room and looked like he was going to start punching people. “When I find out who did this to my wife, to my mother—”

“How could anyone do this?” Lance said, choking back tears. “How could someone kill our mother in cold blood? The police will catch you and when they do—”

“Stop it!” Gwen yelled. “All of you get out! Don’t do this while our mother is lying here dead.”

Glen stepped forward and took Gwen by the shoulders. She shook off his hands and screamed as loud as she could. “I said everybody get out!”

Everyone did as they were told and filed out of the room. They stood waiting for Gwen in the hallway outside.

“What are we going to do with the body?” Glen asked, adding, “I don’t think there’s room in the freezer.”

Gwen came to the door. “Nobody is putting my mother in a freezer! We’re leaving the room exactly as it is until the police get here.”

She took hold of the doorknob, turned the lock, and stepped outside the room, closing the door behind her.

“There, she’s locked in. The police can knock the door down to do their investigation when they get here. But nobody else is going in that room.” Gwen glared at all of them. “I don’t trust anybody in this house.”

Chapter Thirty-three

Yvette grabbed hold of Lance’s hand as they walked down the staircase. “I want to go home,” she pleaded.

“I do too, Yvette. I do too. I wish I could figure out a way to get us out of here.”

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lance turned to the others. “I say we all stay together as a group until we can figure out what to do.”

Everyone agreed and went into the living room together. Lance and Yvette took a seat on the couch nearest the fire. Lance wrapped his arm around his wife, and she laid her head on his shoulder. They went back and forth between weeping and looking suspiciously at everyone else in the room.

Gwen, Glen, and Stephen crowded onto the other couch together, and Helga sat on the loveseat. She glared at Sally’s children. “You all so greedy,” she said accusatorily. “I not even surprised one of you killed Sally for her money.”

“Us? We loved our mother,” Lance retorted. “What about you? Mom told us you were in her will. Maybe you wanted your inheritance before Mom changed it. Why would she keep you in her will after you quit?”

“Sally my friend,” Helga said defensively. “I never hurt her. I love Sally.” She started weeping again.

Stephen eyed Helga too, but didn’t say anything.

“I wish I’d been a better daughter.” Gwen dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I should have been nicer to her. She always told me to be thankful for my blessings, but I never was. If everything wasn’t exactly perfect, exactly the way I wanted it, I always complained about it or criticized her. I was such a jerk. I wish I could do it all over again.”

Stephen teared up too. “I wish I’d been better too. I put her through so much, but she was always there for me, not judgmental, just supportive.”

He wiped his eyes and stared suspiciously at the others. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here with someone who killed both my wife and my mother. When I find out who it is, your life isn’t worth two cents.” He moved his forefinger in a slicing motion across his throat.

Stephen glared at Glen this time.

Glen shifted uncomfortably. “Look, we can sit here and point fingers at each other all day, which we’ll probably do if we stay here,” he said. “I say we go finish breakfast, and then all go to our rooms and lock ourselves in. We’re just going to have to wait out this storm.”

Lance peered out the window. The snow had let up even more, but the snow drifts were huge. His helicopter wasn’t even visible. It was buried in the snow.  “It’ll be days before we can get out of here,” he said, glumly.

Gwen stood up. “I like Glen’s suggestion. Let’s all go to our rooms. I can’t stand sitting here with someone who murdered my mother.”

They walked together to the kitchen, took what food they wanted with them, and then went separately to their bedrooms, each locking the door behind them. Lost in their sadness and fear, they forgot it was Christmas Day.

Chapter Thirty-four

Glen awoke to the afternoon sun beating in the window directly onto his face. He swung his legs out of bed, walked to the sliding glass door, and peered out at the landscape. He was surprised to see that the snowfall was much lighter now, and spots of bright blue pierced the grey winter sky. As far as he could see, the land was white—there wasn’t a pinch of color anywhere.

He checked his watch—1:30 p.m.

“Gwen?” he called, checking the bathroom.

There was no response.
Maybe she’s downstairs
, he thought. Opening the door, he checked the hallway. Everything seemed to be quiet. He walked swiftly to the stairs and hurried down to the living room. He looked around and then went into the kitchen.

“Gwen!”

Helga came into the kitchen at the sound of his voice. She eyed him warily. He noticed she was carrying a large butcher knife, so he stood at a distance.

“You haven’t seen Gwen, have you?”

Helga shook her head. “I haven’t seen anybody. Everybody in their room.” She raised the knife. “You stay away from me.”

Glen raised his hands. “I have no intention of coming anywhere near you, Helga. I’m just looking for my wife.”

He checked the other downstairs rooms and looked out on the patio. Then he headed upstairs and knocked on Lance’s door.

Yvette opened the door a crack and peeked out at him.

“Yvette, have you seen Gwen? I can’t find her.”

Yvette’s eyes grew large. “No, Glen. Lancie and I haven’t left the room. He’s so upset about his mother, and so am I. I gave him a massage and he fell asleep. Do you want me to wake him?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll check with Stephen.”

“I hope you find her, Glen.”

As he walked down the hall to the study, he passed the room where the murder took place, shuddered at the thought of his dead mother-in-law inside, and then tapped on Stephen’s door. There was no answer.

He pushed the door and discovered it was unlocked. Peeking in, he saw that Stephen was asleep on the fold-out couch, and no one else was in the room.

He closed the door, checked his room again, and then went to the master suite, although he couldn’t imagine why Gwen would want to go in there. He checked the bathroom, the walk-in closet, and the balcony, but no Gwen. Passing the canopy bed, a shiver went down his spine as he thought about Rachel.

Before going downstairs, he went to the door of the bedroom where Sally’s body was and turned the door knob just to be sure Gwen hadn’t somehow gotten the door open and wanted to spend time with her mother. But the door was still locked.

He went downstairs, grabbed his coat, and went outside. The snow was nearly thigh level. Moving slowly, he managed to circle the house, but saw no sign of Gwen. He hollered out her name several times and even heard an echo come back. But there was no response. Gwen was gone.