Murder at Eagle Summit

At the sound of rustling behind her, Liz turned in time to see Grandma stride through the door. The outrage on her face sent Liz backward ten years to the time she and Debbie were fifteen-year-olds caught joyriding around the neighborhood in Grandma’s new Buick. Thank goodness Grandma had another target in her sights at the moment. Though Liz felt sorry for Mr. Harrison.

Grandma planted herself inside the doorway and speared the resort owner with a searing gaze. “Young man, I’d like a word with you.”

The man straightened and managed to look like an aging delinquent in a suit and tie. “Yes, ma’am?”

“My granddaughter has decided to ignore my advice about moving the wedding to a more suitable location.” A single flare of her nostrils left no doubt as to her opinion on that matter. “So it appears the wedding party will be staying here after all, as arranged.”

Mr. Harrison let out a quiet sigh. “I appreciate that, Mrs. Carmichael.”

“I’m sure you do. However, I just attempted to check in and was told by the impertinent girl at the front desk that a room won’t be available until four o’clock.” She brought her wrist up before her face to glance at her watch in a deliberate gesture. “That is eight hours from now. Unacceptable, sir. Quite unacceptable.”

Mr. Harrison hurried around the counter. “A misunderstanding, madam. I assure you, your suite is ready, and I think you’ll be pleased with it. I’ve personally selected all the accommodations for the bridal party, the best the lodge has to offer. I’ll make sure the staff understands you and your guests are to receive VIP treatment.”

“Hmmph.” Grandma’s sniff indicated her willingness to be mollified, especially if she could enjoy VIP status. She caught Liz in her gaze. “When you’re finished here, Elizabeth, join Deborah and me in my suite. And don’t be too long.”

She followed Mr. Harrison out of the shop, leaving Liz and Tim alone. Five awkward seconds was all Liz could handle before she headed for the exit.

“Liz!”

She stopped, but did not turn. Silence stretched between them. Liz fought the urge to look at him, to see his expression. But she’d taken all of the cold glances she could handle from him this morning. She would not turn around and face another one.

Finally he spoke. “Don’t go far. The sheriff will be here in a minute. He’ll want to talk to you.” His voice was flat, impersonal.

The same voice he’d used three years ago, the day their engagement crumbled.

Throat tight, Liz gave a single nod and left the coffee shop.

SEVEN

Tim stood inside the front entrance, watching for the sheriff’s car. When the white Durango pulled beneath the awning, he stepped outside.

“Richards.” Sheriff Zach Daniels stood from the driver’s seat and folded muscled arms over his barrel chest. “What’s the situation?”

Tim straightened to his full height and still had to raise his chin slightly to look the six-four sheriff in the eye. “Everything’s quiet down here. Word hasn’t gotten out yet. The body’s up at the top of the lift.” He briefly outlined the information he’d learned from the teenager, the sheriff nodding as he listened. “The owner, Mr. Harrison, has arranged for a snowmobile to take you up.”

Sheriff Daniels’s gaze swept over Tim’s ski suit. “You off today?”

“Yes, sir. But I’ll stick around if you need me.”

Daniels gave a curt nod and leaned into the car to grab the radio. He requested a deputy to be dispatched to Eagle Summit Resort before tossing the radio back inside and slamming the door closed. “Hang close for a little while. Somebody will relieve you shortly.”

The man strode toward the door without waiting for an answer. Tim fell in step behind him. Inside, a handful of skiers marched across the lobby toward the rear door, their ski boots clattering on the tile floor. Mr. Harrison, hovering beside Liz near the front desk, spotted Tim and the sheriff and hurried in their direction.

“I’m Greg Harrison,” he said. “My wife and I own Eagle Summit Resort.”

Sheriff Daniels shook the man’s hand. “I understand a body has been found on the premises.” His voice boomed throughout the lobby. The skiers skidded to a stop and turned to stare.

Harrison winced and spoke in a low voice. “If you don’t mind, can we step into my office to talk? I’d prefer not to alarm the guests.”

He led them to an office beyond the front desk. When he opened the door and gestured for them to enter, Tim followed the sheriff into a large room with no windows and only two chairs—one behind a cluttered desk and one in front of it. Sheriff Daniels strode without hesitation to the high-backed desk chair. Tim crossed to stand against the opposite wall, turning in time to see Liz precede Harrison through the door. The sheriff noticed her and turned a questioning glance on Tim.

“This is Liz Carmichael,” Tim said as Harrison closed the door. “She arrived in Park City late last night and witnessed something that might prove helpful.”

The sheriff’s stern expression relaxed into a warm smile when he looked at Liz. Tim shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His attractive former fiancе frequently had that effect on men. Daniels rose and extended a hand across the desk.

“Miss Carmichael, I’m Zach Daniels, Summit County Sheriff. It’s a pleasure to welcome you to our town.”

Liz took his hand. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

He gestured toward the chair, and Liz seated herself, placing her purse on the floor beside her. Harrison came to stand against the wall beside Tim, while Daniels slid back into the desk chair.

“Where are you from, Miss Carmichael?”

“Portland originally, but I live in Kentucky now.” She perched on the edge of her seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Though, I’m not a stranger to Utah. I went to college at the U.”

“Ah, a fellow alumni from the University of Utah.” Sheriff Daniels leaned against the chair back. “But I’m sure you were there long after me. I probably graduated about the same time as your grandfather.”

Tim saw Liz’s rigid posture relax a fraction as she returned his smile. “I doubt that. You’re not nearly old enough.”

“You’d be surprised.” He propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “I’ve never been to Kentucky, but I hear it’s beautiful. Where do you live?”

Tim watched as the sheriff drew Liz out with a few minutes of chatter, admiring his technique that put her completely at ease. He effortlessly extracted the reason for Liz’s trip to Utah and the details of her arrival in Park City. Tim would have jumped in with, “Describe what you saw” immediately, but he recognized the wisdom of Daniels’s approach. A calm witness was much easier to question. Only when Liz relaxed enough to rest her back against the chair did he bring the conversation around to the point.

“So tell me about last night, Miss Carmichael. Deputy Richards said you saw something that may be important?”

The sheriff’s first mistake, though an unwitting one. At the mention of Tim’s name, Liz glanced sideways at him and her shoulders stiffened.

She can’t stand to be in the same room with me.

Which was completely unfair. After all, who was the injured party here? Who got dumped three weeks after announcing their engagement to his friends and his whole family? Who was left looking like a chump? He gathered his eyebrows into a scowl as Liz gave a halting account of her midnight view from the balcony.

Sheriff Daniels let her finish before uttering a word. “Interesting. Did you notice what he was wearing?”

“A bulky jacket, probably a ski jacket. It might have been black or some other dark color. I…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know about the rest. I want to say jeans, but I can’t be sure. They could just as easily have been ski pants.”

“And snowboarding boots?”

She nodded, then hesitated. “I—I think so. I mean, if he was carrying a snowboard, surely he had on the boots.”

“About how big was the snowboard he carried? And how did he carry it?”

She shot Tim another quick glance that stabbed at him. Did the sheriff’s question bring to mind for her the time she helped him shop for the right size of snowboard, as it did to him? Her lips tightened for a moment before she answered. “I can’t say for sure how long it was. Four and a half feet, maybe? He carried it lengthways, under his right arm as he walked.”