Murder on the Mountain

“But we love you, Jessy-Messy,” Lily said happily. Her lipstick was already smeared. “You go with Daddy.”

“If I don’t see you before the show,” Jess said, “break a leg.”

Lily gasped. “Huh?”

“That means good luck,” Jess said. “It’s an expression. Break a leg means—”

“Everybody knows that,” Jennifer said. “Come on, Lily.”

When Paul got behind the wheel of the Explorer, he surreptitiously watched as Jess climbed into the passenger seat. Six weeks ago, Jess had been shot in the chest. For a while, Paul was as scared as hell, afraid his friend wasn’t going to make it. Though he wasn’t a particularly religious man, he’d prayed hard and long. Jess and Mac had grown up together; they were closer to him than brothers.

So far, Jess’s recovery seemed to be going well, but he wasn’t back to full strength, and he had a bad habit of overexerting himself. That habit was the main reason Paul had insisted that Jess stay with him in Redding even though he owned a condo in Vail. Though it was driving Jess crazy to know there was fresh snow and mountains to be skied, Paul kept him safely on the sidelines.

Jess slammed the car door and turned to Paul. He was pale but grinning. “Where did you get the lipstick?”

“I have my ways.” Paul quickly changed the subject. “You had therapy today. How are you doing?”

“The doc said I could try skiing next week, but I have to wear this girdle contraption to protect my busted ribs.” He cocked an eyebrow. “The lipstick?”

“A lady friend.”

“I knew it,” he crowed. “Who is she?”

“Forget it.” Paul pulled out of the drive and led the way so Mac could follow. “I’m not going to introduce you. Because she’d be all gaga over your skinny butt.”

“Don’t go there, Paul. I’m doing my best to convince Marcia that I’m not a hound dog.”

“Getting serious about her? Maybe thinking about marriage?”

“Whoa, buddy. Marcia and I haven’t even been, you know, intimate.”

Paul offered wry condolence. “Poor you. I guess it’s complicated to make love with broken ribs.”

“It’s been almost six weeks. That’s the longest time I’ve gone without since we were in high school.”

“A little abstinence is good for you,” Paul said. “If you decide to marry Marcia, it’s going to be a day of mourning for the other women of Eagle County.”

“You’re full of crap.”

“Not really.”

Paul was a realist. He’d never been popular with women. In spite of his size—or maybe because of it—he tended to be shy. Then, when he finally spoke, he’d blurt out something stupid. Around women, he was clumsy, always tripping over his own big feet.

All the way from grade school to high school graduation when he, Jess and Mac had been best pals, the girls had flocked around handsome Jess with his streaked blond hair and blue eyes. Mac’s relationships tended to be more monogamous and intense. And Paul was relegated to the role of the perpetual fifth wheel.

It was ironic that he’d been the first one to settle down into a marriage and have kids. And unfortunate that the marriage had fallen apart in spite of his best efforts to hold things together.

“Come on,” Jess said, “tell me who gave you the lipstick.”

“Her name is Julia Last, and she runs that resort where Mac stayed when he was in town.”

“Did you ask her out?”

“Dinner. Next week.” Paul figured he might as well take advantage of Jess’s vast dating expertise. “Where should I take her?”

“That depends. Tell me about her.”

“She’s strong.” That was the first word that came to mind when he thought of Julia. “The first time I saw her, she was chopping wood, handling an ax like a lumberjack. But that’s not to say she’s masculine. She’s got long curly brown hair that smells great. And the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s tall. With an hourglass figure. Full, round hips and full, round…”

His voice trailed off as a picture of Julia took shape in his mind. Throughout this morning’s investigation with the sheriff, the coroner and the ambulance team that removed General Harrison Naylor’s body, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. Though she’d obviously been tense, he admired her composure as she served up coffee and muffins all around.

Julia only relaxed after the forensics were done and the sheriff agreed with Paul’s conclusion that the general’s death was a suicide. The note he’d left behind stated his regrets for wrong decisions he’d made in the heat of battle.

“What does she like doing?” Jess asked.

“There are horses at the lodge.” He took a moment to imagine Julia on horseback with her hair flying loose around her shoulders. A very sexy image. “She likes football, but prefers hockey.”

“Just like you.”

“When I’m around her,” Paul said, “I want to tell her everything about me and the girls. Every little detail. At the same time, it’s nice to just be near her. She’s a woman who knows how to be quiet.”

“You’ve got it bad,” Jess said. “Here’s what you do on the first date. Order a catered picnic basket and pick up some decent wine. Then you charter a plane. I know I guy who flies for cheap. And then—”

“What? Charter a plane?”

“Think big. You want to impress the woman.”

“I don’t want her to think I’m abducting her,” Paul said.

“Women like a man who takes control and sweeps them off their feet.”

Paul’s instincts told him that Julia wouldn’t appreciate a lot of fuss. “I think a simple dinner is going to be enough.”

He pulled into the parking lot outside the ice-skating rink, met up with the others and escorted the girls into the backstage area. The new skating rink had been a huge success with lots of kids interested. Backstage, a couple of dozen skaters, ranging in age from five years old to high school, were doing stretch exercises and giggling wildly. There were few other men in this preparation area and Paul made a hasty retreat after wishing Jennifer and Lily good luck.

He returned to the bleachers surrounding the rink. From the way Mac and Abby were smirking, he guessed that Jess had blabbed to them about Julia. Swell.

GUILT HAD DRIVEN Julia from the safehouse. After sitting at the dinner table with the others who had known General Harrison Naylor and had offered respectful toasts to his memory, she had to leave. How could she have tampered with the crime scene? How could she, in good conscience, allow the world to believe this brave old Marine had committed suicide?

She needed to confess, and that need lead her to the ice-skating rink near Vail where she knew she would find Deputy Paul Hemmings. She hoped that he would understand, that he wouldn’t hate her for what she’d done. Inside the arena, she took a seat by herself on the bleachers and watched as these seemingly delicate skaters performed their athletic spins and leaps.

Checking out the audience, she immediately spotted Paul. Unfortunately, he was with Mac Granger and Abby Nelson—two people who knew about the safehouse. No way could Julia face them. It had been a mistake to come here.

As she rose from her seat, intending to slip away before she was noticed, Paul spotted her. He bolted from his seat and came toward her. She couldn’t run away, had to face him.

He took a seat on the bleachers beside her. His huge thigh brushed against hers. “I’m glad to see you, Julia.”

“Did you get the girl’s makeup put on straight?”