Murder in Vail (14 page)

Chapter Forty-one

Gwen crawled up onto the porch of the cabin, pulled the key out of her pocket, and opened the door. The cabin wasn’t much, basically just a room with a canvas cot and a couple of old lawn chairs in it. A small microwave, a hot plate, and a mini-refrigerator served as a kitchen on one wall, and there was a tiny bathroom in the back. She grabbed a bottle of water from the cabinet and quickly drank it. Then she ripped open a package of beef jerky and began gnawing on it. She’d forgotten how hungry she got skiing.

The main attraction of the remote ski cabin was the old Ford pickup truck parked in the carport. The keys hung on a nail by the door. The family used it to drive back up the mountain after a ski run. It didn’t look like much, but Helga kept it gassed up and in good running order.

Gwen sat down in a lawn chair to rest. It was cold inside the cabin too, but still considerably warmer than it was outside. She got another bottle of water. She felt so dehydrated. She realized that after living in Florida all these years, she had to be careful about getting altitude sickness. Staying hydrated was key, so she didn’t get up until she had finished drinking the entire bottle.

After sheʼd rested for a few minutes, Gwen ventured back outside the cabin to check out the road conditions. The cabin was isolated, but it was close to a fairly well-traveled road that the snow plows regularly cleared. It looked like they had been through that afternoon – someone had to work on Christmas, Gwen thought fleetingly.

The problem was the driveway. It was long, and it was buried under nearly two feet of snow. The snow wasn’t nearly as deep down here as at the top of the mountain, but it was still too deep to back the truck out. She took the snow shovel from the carport and began shoveling. Her shoulder ached with each movement. After shoveling for almost half an hour, she realized it would take her the rest of the day to get the driveway in any condition to back the truck out.

She felt like crying. Angrily, she heaved the snow shovel. But then, she just had to trudge through the snow to get it. Her back felt like it had a cramp in it, her arms ached, and her head pounded. She had to get out of there today, but she didn’t see how that would be possible. The sun was beginning to sink in the sky, and she didn’t see any other alternative than spending the night on the cot in the cabin. What if they realized she’d skied down the mountain and someone came after her?

At least it had stopped snowing. With any luck, it wouldn’t start again. She kept shoveling, but began to feel it was a futile battle. She looked out to the road. One truck had gone by earlier, right after she’d started shoveling. But nothing had been by since then. Usually a car went by every now and then, but not today. It was Christmas. Everyone was at home with their families. And their driveways were probably snowed in too.

Starting to shovel again after a few minutes rest, Gwen thought she heard a noise in the distance. It seemed to be getting louder. She dropped the shovel and trudged her way as quickly as she could to the road. She had just arrived when two teenage boys on a four-wheel ATV came barreling up the road.

Breathless, Gwen ran to the middle of the road and waved her hands. When they saw her, they slowed down and seemed to be debating whether they should stop.

“Please!” Gwen yelled out. “I’ll pay you $200 if you’ll drive me into Vail.”

The boys looked skeptically at each other.

“We’re not allowed to go that far,” the one on the back said, the sun glinting off the braces on his teeth as he talked.

“What’s the farthest you could take me?” Gwen asked.

“Probably to the truck stop on this side of I-70,” said the driver, who looked all of fourteen. “Maybe somebody else could drive you from there.”

“It’s a deal,” Gwen said.

The driver put out his hand for the $200.

“Well,” Gwen hesitated, “I don’t have the money with me, but I’m good for it.”

“Then forget it,” the teenager said, gunning the engine and starting to move around her.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Gwen exclaimed, running after them. “I promise I’ll pay you. Have you heard of the Braddocks? My name is Gwen Braddock.”

The boy on the back told his friend to stop. “You that rich lady that lives up at the top of the mountain?”

“I’m her daughter. I’m visiting her from Florida. And I promise I’ll pay you $200 if you give me a ride.”

The two boys whispered for a second. “How about $300?” the driver asked.

“You got it.”

The boy on the back scooted up as close as he could to the driver. “Hop on,” he said. “Hold on tight.”

Gwen carefully stepped up onto the ATV, and they took off flying, careening around curves and not slowing down for bumps in the road or piles of snow.

Gwen felt like she was riding a bucking bronco. What surprised her was that she was enjoying every second of the ride.
If only my friends in Palm Beach could see me now
, she thought with a grin.

Chapter Forty-two

It was late afternoon, and Yvette was getting cabin fever. “Lance, I have to get out of this room. I’m going crazy in here. Let’s go downstairs for a while.”

Still exhausted from his earlier escapade in the snow, Lance would have preferred to stay resting in bed. But if his wife wanted to go downstairs, they would go downstairs.

Dressed in a pair of tight black jeans and a scoop neck green sweater, Yvette put on a dab of lipstick and laced her fingers in his. “Don’t let go of my hand, and bring the scissors,” she instructed her husband. She picked up Duchess, who she had also dressed in a green sweater with a little green bow on her head.

When they reached the living room, Stephen and Glen were sitting on the couches opposite each other having a drink. Some peanuts, chips, and other snacks were spread out on the coffee table.

“I see you’re armed too,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes.

“And I will be until the murderer is caught,” Lance said, sitting down on the open love-seat. Yvette sat beside him and set Duchess on the floor. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my wife.”

Stephen eyed him coldly. “Are you saying I didn’t take good enough care of mine?”

“Yeah, Lance,” Glen chimed in. “You’re the only one with a wife left.”

“No, no,” Lance responded hurriedly. “I didn’t mean that at all. I’m just saying I’m protecting Yvette. That’s all.”

Yvette frowned at Stephen and Glen and edged closer to Lance.

“You know, I don’t think any of us have anything to be afraid of,” Stephen said. “I don’t think the killer would have any reason to go after any of us now. Mom seemed to be the target all along because of her money. Now, we’ve all inherited. What would be the point of killing anyone else?”

Glen and Lance exchanged glances and shrugged. “Good point.”

“Does anybody have a will?” Stephen asked.

“We do,” Lance said. “If anything happens to me, everything goes to Yvette. If Yvette dies, everything goes to me.”

Yvette tapped his hand. “I don’t have much, honey. All my modeling money is gone.”

“That’s okay, cupcake. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.”

Glen spoke up. “Gwen and I haven’t gotten around to it yet. So, I guess if one of us dies intestate, the estate would go to the closest relative, which would be each other.”

Yvette looked suspiciously at Glen. “And if Gwen doesn’t make it down the mountain, then you get everything.”

“Let’s don’t think that way,” Glen said uncomfortably. “I’ll be devastated if she doesn’t make it. I’m so worried.”

“What about you, Stephen? Do you have a will?” Lance asked.

Stephen nodded. “After I got out of rehab, we went to a lawyer and got one. Rachel was concerned about her father. He doesn’t have much. So I made her the first beneficiary and him the second one. I figured nobody in this family needed—”

A thud came from the second floor. Everyone looked up. Duchess yipped.

“What was that?” Yvette cried, grabbing Lance’s arm. “We’re all down here.”

“Probably Helga,” Glen said. “She’s probably up there searching our rooms for weapons.”

Helga walked into the living room from the kitchen and looked up too.

Chapter Forty-three

The ATV pulled into a parking space near the front door of the truck stop. A semi and a compact car were parked in the lot, and the lights were on inside.
Thank goodness it’s open,
Gwen thought with relief. She had worried the entire ride that they’d get there and it would be closed on Christmas Day.

Gwen hopped off the ATV and hurried inside, the two boys right behind her. She pulled off her hat and gloves. It felt so good to be inside in the warmth.

The convenience store section of the truck stop was nearly empty except for one trucker shopping in an aisle at the back of the store. The boys followed Gwen as she walked up to the counter where a girl with a long brown braid down her back was working. She didn’t look a whole lot older than the two teenagers who had driven Gwen on the ATV.

“Do you have a piece of paper and a pen I could borrow?” Gwen asked.

“Sure,” the cashier said, tearing a sheet of lined paper off a pad and handing her a pen with the name of the truck stop on it.

Gwen thanked her and began to write a note. She asked the boys for their names. The driver said his name was Hank Slater, and the passenger was Dillon Davis. “I owe you $300 for driving me to the truck stop on Christmas Day.” She signed her name, Gwen Braddock Sherman.

She folded the IOU and handed it to Hank, along with another sheet of paper. “Now you write down your name and the address where you want me to mail the money.”

The boy did as he was told and handed Gwen the piece of paper. She tucked it into her jacket pocket. There was something else in her pocket, a twenty dollar bill and a turquoise mitten that she had worn earlier today when she left the house. She checked her other pocket for the matching mitten, but it wasn’t there.
Darn,
she thought.
I must have lost it. I really liked those mittens.

With the twenty dollar bill, the only money she had with her, she bought them all cups of hot chocolate before the boys went on their way. The driver gave her a serious stare before he left. “You’re gonna remember to send us that check, aren’t you?”

“Definitely,” Gwen told them. “I promise.”

“You better,” he said, cocking his head. “We’re countin’ on it.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll get it.”

After the ATV pulled out of the parking lot, Gwen headed for the bathroom to clean up. On the way, she glanced out the window and noticed a Coors truck pulling into the parking lot.

When Gwen saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she was stunned. Her hair was a snarled mess from the whipping winds on the ATV, stiff strands pointing out in all directions. Her face was blotchy and red from the cold, and she had a huge knot on her forehead that was beginning to turn blue. She splashed warm water on her face and gently dabbed at the bruise. Then, she ran her fingers through her hair like a comb, trying to get some of the tangles out. Nothing helped her appearance, but she felt a little cleaner.

Gwen hurried out of the restroom to the counter. “Is there a phone I can use?”

The cashier shook her head. “Phones are out from the storm.”

“What about a cell phone?”

“They’re kinda in and out here.”

“This is really, really important. Could you try yours?”

The girl nodded and reached below the counter. She took out her purse and pulled out her smartphone. She tried to turn it on.

“Oh darn,” she said. “I forgot to charge it. The battery’s dead.”

Jeez,
Gwen thought, though she realized it was foolish of her to forget to bring her own cell phone.

She turned around and saw the Coors truck driver waiting in line behind her. He was a little taller than she was, ruddy-faced, and unshaven.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cell phone, would you? Or a phone in your truck I could use? It’s an emergency.”

The trucker shook his head. “Nope. Been havin’ trouble with it all day. What’s your emergency?”

“I need to call the police.”

“The police? What for?”

“There’s been a murder.”

The truck driver scratched his beard. “A murder?”

“Yes, up in the mountains. I’m trying to get to the Vail police.”

He seemed to be considering the situation for a few moments. Then he told her, “Well, I’m headin’ into Vail now. I can drive you there.”

Gwen hesitated. She didn’t know if she wanted to get into the truck with this man. The counter girl picked up on her reluctance.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. Mr. Padgett is safe. He stops in here all the time. Drives for the valley Coors beer distributor. I go to school with his daughter.”

Relieved, Gwen nodded. “Thank you. I would really appreciate a ride,” she told him.

“Just let me pay for my chew,” the truck driver said, setting a tin of Skoal on the counter.

Gwen waited as he paid, opened the tin, dug out a finger full, and deposited it inside his left cheek.

“Ok, let’s go,” he said, walking out the door and letting it swing shut behind him.

Gwen turned back to the cashier and whispered, “My name is Gwen Braddock Sherman in case no one ever sees me again. Gwen Braddock Sherman. Got that?”

The girl smiled. “Don’t you worry, ma’am. Mr. Padgett is a real nice man. You’ll get there just fine.”

Gwen scurried out to the Coors truck, took a huge step up into the truck cab, and settled in for the ten-minute drive to Vail.