Chapter Six
That hadn’t gone the way I’d thought it would.
I strode out of the office and headed toward the stairs. Evelyn glanced up as I went by. She looked as though she hoped I would stop to talk, but I ignored the implied invitation and kept walking. After my conversation with Sheriff Finley I wasn’t in a chatty mood.
When I got back to the room, Bertie and Frank were still there with Sam. Seeing the expression on my face, none of them said a word. Faith jumped off the bed and came running over. I knelt down and wrapped my arms around her neck. It only took a few seconds of dog therapy before I began to feel better.
I sat down cross-legged on the floor and pulled Faith into my lap. “So,” I said. “I guess we missed breakfast?”
“Don’t change the subject,” Sam told me.
“What subject? I just got here. And when I’m annoyed, I get hungry.”
“Now we have two subjects,” Sam said. “First, what did you need to talk to Sheriff Finley about? And second, why did your conversation with her annoy you?”
Frank was popping chocolates in his mouth from an open, heart-shaped box on the table. He stopped and raised his hand. “I know! It’s because you said something dumb to the lady sheriff, isn’t it?”
“That’s woman sheriff to you.” Bertie clasped his hand and pulled it down. Then she reached over and closed the candy box. “And don’t insult your sister. Melanie almost never says dumb things.”
“Says you,” Frank retorted. “You didn’t grow up with her.”
I had no intention of squabbling with Frank like we were still children. Instead I said, “Last night after the movie, when I was outside with Faith, I saw Belinda out near the skating shack with a man.”
Sam frowned. “You didn’t say anything about that when you got back.”
I cocked a brow in his direction. “When I got back, you were stepping out of the shower and, as I recall, we found something much more interesting to do than talk.”
“Oh,” he said.
Oh indeed. “That’s why I wanted to talk to Sheriff Finley.”
“What did she think of that?” Sam asked.
“For one thing, she said it meant I was the last person to see Belinda Rush alive.” Even just repeating that made me feel grumpy again. I slid my fingers under Faith’s chin. As I scratched one of her favorite spots, she wriggled happily in my arms. That helped.
“No, you weren’t,” said Bertie. She was no dumb bunny.
“That’s what I told the sheriff. Besides, I just met Belinda yesterday. What possible reason could I have for wanting her dead?”
“I can come up with a few ideas,” Frank said. “Maybe Belinda neglected to sign you up for couples’ crocheting.”
I looked at Bertie. “Is that a thing?”
She shook her head.
“Couples’ canoeing,” Frank tried again.
“Still nope,” said Bertie.
“How about couples’ canoodling?”
“As long as Sam’s onboard, I don’t need anyone’s permission for that.” I smiled his way, but Sam wasn’t about to be sidetracked.
“So what you’re saying is that you suspect there was foul play,” he said.
I nodded. “Don’t you?”
“You always suspect foul play,” Bertie pointed out.
“And unfortunately I’m usually right.”
* * *
After that conversation, we were all ready for a change of scenery. Literally. What was the point of visiting a resort in the beautiful Berkshire Mountains and staying inside our rooms?
We checked the schedule of activities that had been delivered to our rooms the previous evening. This morning, we’d all signed up to go tobogganing. That sounded like the perfect way to clear our heads and reset the day.
Within minutes, we’d pulled on sweaters and boots, wrapped knitted scarves around our necks, and shoved warm, woolly gloves into the pockets of our parkas. Watching us suit up, Faith danced around the room in anticipation. She could tell something fun was about to happen.
On the way outside, I detoured our group past the dining room. To our delight, we found a buffet table stocked with portable breakfast items for those who’d missed the morning meal. I took a cinnamon bun. Sam and Frank grabbed energy bars. Bertie made do with an apple. Faith, who’d had her own breakfast earlier, could share mine.
The lower slope of the mountain wasn’t long enough for skiing, but it was just the right size for sledding. The snow on the wide tobogganing track was packed down hard, slick in the middle and icy on the sides. Previous sledders had tamped down a trail beside the track that we could use to climb to the top of the incline.
Half a dozen sleek wooden toboggans were standing on end, leaning against the back wall of the inn. Each had a curved front with tow rope attached, and plenty of room for passengers on its long, flat-bottomed base behind. A sign above the sleds invited us to help ourselves and recommended that children wear helmets and only ride with their parents.
Frank chose a sled from the end of the row, lowered it to the snowy ground, and stared at it as if he knew enough about the sport to be assessing the equipment’s virtues. None of us were fooled.
“Do we want one toboggan or two?” he asked.
“Two,” I guessed. I was hardly an expert either. “One for each couple?”
“One is more fun,” said Bertie.
“How come?” asked Sam.
“The heavier the weight on the sled, the faster you fly down the hill. Plus, the best way to do it is for everyone to cuddle up next to each other and hold on to the legs of the person behind you. That way nobody falls off.”
“That sounds cozy,” I said. “And perfect for the theme of the weekend. Let’s give it a try.”
Faith followed us up the hill, leaping from drift to drift and tunneling through the snow with her nose. By the time we reached the top of the slope, her face and ears were sparkling with droplets of ice.
The temperature was around freezing, but fortunately there was no wind. The sun was shining in a cloudless blue sky. It was a beautiful day to be on the mountain. Clearly we weren’t the only people who’d thought so. We waited in line behind four other groups for our turn to tackle the slope.
Some couples made it all the way to the bottom. Others skidded on the ice and overturned partway down the hill. No matter the outcome, everyone was laughing and having a good time. It appeared that the sad news Evelyn had delivered earlier wasn’t spoiling anyone’s enjoyment of the day.
The first time our toboggan went flying down the mountain, Faith came racing after us, barking joyfully. After a second trip back up the side of the slope, however, she was looking a bit winded. Faith was fit for her age, but this was more exercise than she’d had in a while.
For our second run I put her on my lap, wedged in between Sam and me. Faith didn’t love that idea. She squirmed most of the way down the hill—I knew because I was holding her tight. At the bottom I decided not to try that again.
“Faith needs a chance to catch her breath. She and I are going to sit the next one out,” I said to the rest of the gang when we’d finished disentangling ourselves.
Sam had already grabbed the tow rope to drag the toboggan back up the hill. He turned around, surprised. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Faith and I are just taking a short breather. Go have fun and we’ll watch from here.”
I doubted anyone was fooled by that excuse, but Sam and Bertie were dog lovers too. They could see that it was in Faith’s best interest not to have to scramble right back up the slippery slope.
“We’ll be right back,” Sam told Faith. “Try not to let her get in too much trouble while we’re gone.”
The Poodle answered him with a cheerful woof.
There was a wooden bench nearby, situated to offer an optimal view of the mountain. I sat down and Faith hopped up beside me. The midday sun, reflecting off both the snow and the white building behind us, warmed us from both sides.
I unzipped the top of my jacket, then took off my gloves and stuffed them in my pockets. When Faith lay down with her head in my lap, I tilted my face up toward the golden rays and closed my eyes.
“Melanie Travis,” said a deep voice. “That’s you, right?”
I opened my eyes too quickly. I’d been facing the sun, so for a moment I saw nothing but spots dancing across my field of vision. Silhouetted just behind them was the shadowy figure of a man.
I blinked quickly several times. It didn’t help much. My hand was resting on Faith’s withers. I felt her stiffen, then sit up. I wondered what she was able to see that I wasn’t.
“Yes, that’s me,” I said. “Is there a problem?”
“You bet there is.”
Finally my vision cleared and I realized I was looking up at the man whom I’d seen with Belinda the previous night. From this vantage point he looked taller than I remembered. He had even features and a slightly square jaw. His eyebrows were drawn downward over a pair of piercing brown eyes. For a man, he had beautiful lips. Which was probably not what I needed to be focusing on right at the moment.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “Who are you?”
“Cliff Granger.” He didn’t offer his hand. Neither did I.
“Do you work here?”
“Lifeguard.” The man gestured toward a domed, glass-enclosed wing that was attached to the side of the inn. “And you’re a guest. I checked on that. You just got here yesterday. So I have no idea why you felt the need to meddle in something that’s none of your business.”
“Meddle,” I said.
His head dipped in a short, sharp nod. “It’s bad enough what happened.”
Beside me, Faith was staring at the man and muttering unhappily under her breath. I placed a hand on her back, willing her to relax. I wanted to hear what Cliff Granger had to say.
He eyed my big black dog and took a step back. “But then you had to volunteer to talk to the sheriff—and whatever you told her made me look like a suspect in Belinda’s death.”
“Suspect?” I repeated innocently. “Evelyn said it was an accident.”
“Evelyn has it right,” he snapped. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t questions.”
Abruptly I realized something. “Who told you what I said to Sheriff Finley?” I doubted that the sheriff would have released that information.
“It doesn’t matter.” Cliff snorted. “The fact is, I know it was you.”
“I only told her what I saw,” I said mildly.
“Which was what?”
“You and Belinda outside last night by the skating shack.”
“So? What’s it to you?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I replied. “Until Belinda’s body was discovered near there this morning.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Cliff growled. “Belinda was fine the last time I saw her.”
“When was that?”
Cliff looked over his shoulder in both directions. No one was near enough to hear what we were saying. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice.
“Yeah, she and I were out there. But then she said she had to go meet someone. I escorted her back inside the inn and we parted at the door.”
“Who was she meeting?” I asked.
“How would I know?”
Considering that it had been late at night, and that Belinda was a woman with whom he had a relationship, it seemed odd to me that Cliff wouldn’t have been curious about that. If he was telling the truth.
“And you told that to Sheriff Finley?”
“Of course I did. But that doesn’t mean she believed me. My name would never have even been in her head if you hadn’t put it there. So this is on you.”
Not really, I thought. Because I wasn’t the one who’d been with Belinda the night before.
“If you and she came back inside the inn together, why did she go out again?”
“I’m telling you, I don’t know. I have no idea where Belinda went or what she did after I left her at the back of the lobby.”
“Then it sounds as though you don’t have anything to worry about,” I said. “Except maybe that you and Belinda were sneaking around and keeping your relationship a secret?”
“Again,” he ground out. “That’s none of your damn business.”
“Had you been seeing each other long?”
“Long enough.”
I frowned. “That sounds ominous.”
“Lady, you’d better stop putting words in my mouth. It’s company policy, okay? Employees aren’t allowed to fraternize with guests or other employees.”
The White Birch Inn was a fairly large resort, but it was still a close community. I suspected it would only have been a matter of time before Belinda and Cliff were found out.
“What would happen if you got caught?” I asked. “Would your relationship with Belinda have cost you your job?”
“I didn’t even want to know. That’s why I took Belinda outside last night. I knew I needed to break up with her.”
“That was an interesting way to end a relationship,” I said. “One last kiss?”
Cliff leaned down until his face was only inches from mine. Faith’s lips fluttered in a low growl. As usual, my Poodle and I were on the same wavelength. I wanted to growl myself.
“Stay the hell out of my life,” he snapped. “Or I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.”