I arrived at the base station two minutes before a giant snowplow with Marco, who was hitching a ride. Behind the plow was a cadre of ski patrol and a couple of trucks with labels saying something about antennas and construction to fix the communication and cable issues. I would not be mentioning the antenna guys to Andy. He wanted to fix the whatsamacallit.
Patrol were all smiles when they saw me and Marco trudged over waving, “Have fun locked in at Hotel Hell? Two world-class chefs and a full wine cellar, I wish I’d been there.”
I leaned on my poles and put up my goggles. “No, you don’t.”
“What happened to your face? Is that Peanut?”
Guy saw me from a distance and knew he had a problem without asking a question. He was on the horn saying there was an emergency at Hotel Hell and to send a Rega rescue helicopter immediately.
“Are you okay?” Marco asked.
“Don’t worry about me. A guest and Andy are up on the trail. They need help. Only one coat, but they both have gloves.”
“How the hell did that happen?” Marco asked. “Where are your gloves?”
“I gave them to Andy. Do you have snowmobiles?”
Marco didn’t answer. He was already running for a huge shed, yelling for help. Guy got to me and said, “How bad is it?”
“Pretty bad. Two deaths. One just happened on the trail. Andy can tell you the spot. I’m not familiar. It’s a long story, but he lost control and went over.” I told him about Audrey, Adeline, and Stephanie since they were the most critical. Max might be able to wait if need be and that was fine for Chuck.
Guy started ordering people around and the next thing I knew I was inside getting warmed up. I gathered from the yelling in multiple languages that the gondola situation wasn’t getting fixed any time soon, so I asked about catching a ride with a Rega, but they weren’t going to land at the base station.
“I need to get up there,” I said. “I’ve been treating everyone and the poisoner’s still there, not to mention my boyfriend. He was poisoned the day we arrived and took pepper spray to the eye about an hour ago.”
“Poisoner? What the hell happened up there?” Guy asked.
“A whole lot. How do I get up there?”
“You have to tell me what happened. We might need the police.”
“We absolutely need the police,” I said. “I guess I didn’t make that clear.”
“I just…you’re saying there’s a poisoner up at Hotel Hell and a guy that strangled this Stephanie person?”
“He’s dead. She’s up there.”
“You think the poisoner will try again?” he asked.
“No, but this is my case, I have to be there at the end,” I said.
“Your case? Who are you?”
“Google me later. Do you have another snowmobile?”
Guy had another snowmobile, but he googled me first. For once, that worked out for me, and I was behind him on the snowmobile in no time flat. We found where Elliot and Andy had been picked up, but instead of returning to the base station, they went back up to the hotel.
The snowmobile ate up the distance to Hotel Hell, but it seemed like it was taking forever. The first Rega beat us there and the flight medics had both Audrey and Adeline on stretchers by the time we drove up to the side of the gondola platform. I ran in and caught them before they took the ladies to the roof on the elevator. They had IVs and pain meds already on board and were very relaxed and drowsy.
I told the flight nurse what happened and then I had to repeat it because he had to take notes. I gave exact amounts of charcoal slurry and times, pain meds, and timeline of onset and symptoms.
“You confirmed the poison?” he asked.
“I did and I preserved the evidence,” I said.
“We brought extra crew. They’re up with the male victim and the children,” he said and went into the elevator. My last glimpse of Audrey and Adeline was a pair of thumbs-up with loopy smiles. Then they were away, and my knees nearly buckled with relief.
“You okay?” Guy asked.
I held Peanut tight to my chest and found I could suddenly breathe a lot easier. “Better now. On to the next victims.”
The skywalk doors were open and even before we were across, I could hear the crying. There was a small group in reception where Andy and Elliot had apparently done the heavy lifting of telling Lauren about David. She was close to hysterical, and Jane was clinging to Elliot, sobbing. Mike and Heather were there, holding hands so that cat wasn’t out of the bag. The chefs were trying to get hot drinks into Andy and Elliot. Anne-Marie and Henri were making coffee at the bar. They were the only ones to see us. The couple simply nodded and watched me slip into the elevator with Guy without saying a word.
“I think you’re right with what you said to Marco,” said Guy.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’m glad I was snowed out rather than in.”
I smiled. “Some people have all the luck.”
“They do. Lucky you were here.”
“Glass half full.”
“The only way to live.”
He gave Peanut a scratch. “So you like this thing?”
“He didn’t give me any other choice,” I said.
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
“I question whether it’s a dog.”
“You’re not the only one.”
The doors opened and I expected to see the air crew moving Stephanie out on a backboard and the kids clutching backpacks angling to go with her. Instead, Chuck and Max were toe-to-toe in the hall with a member of patrol trying to mediate.
Johanna came out. “Don’t fight.”
I ran down the hall and before I even reached them, Peanut launched himself at Johanna. She caught him with both ease and surprise.
“You’re back,” she said. “Thank goodness. Make them stop.”
“Stop what?” I looked back and forth between Max, who looked ready to take on all comers even with strangulation marks on his throat, and Chuck, who was standing on his own but had one eye swollen shut and a running nose.
“I’m not going,” said Max.
“You are too,” said Chuck.
“No, I’m not. I’m fine.”
The pair crossed their arms, and I asked the patrol guy, “What are we doing?”
“The mother is going on the next flight. We have a second seat and apparently nobody wants it,” he said with total astonishment.
Max pointed at Chuck. “Take him. He almost died.”
“So did you.”
“Did not.”
“You were strangled, kid,” said Chuck in a husky voice. “Look at your neck and eyes.”
“You got sprayed in the face,” said Max.
“Half the face.”
Chuck looked at me and I’m not gonna lie, I winced. Johanna got him good. So now he had the eye and the hideous bruising from the head hit.
A member of the flight crew came out and said, “Someone is filling that seat.”
“Tell ’em, Mercy,” said Chuck.
“Chuck was poisoned with rosary peas, hit his head causing a concussion, and got pepper-sprayed in the eye,” I said.
“Not that!”
“What? That’s what happened.”
“This is our special vacation. I’m not going to the hospital. Who knows when I’ll get back?”
I took his arm and wondered once again if the concussion was worse than I thought. “That’s not really the point. You need to get checked out.”
“I’m not going,” he said. “Send Max.”
“Oh, no,” said Max. “I’m not leaving Johanna and Luca alone. My dad wouldn’t want me to leave them. Mutti’s going. I’m staying here.”
Johanna teared up and hugged him. He didn’t resist. “Mutti says it’s okay.”
“Someone will have to take responsibility for them,” said Guy.
“No problem,” I said. “We’ll do it.”
“Mercy,” said Chuck. “That’s not the plan.”
“Look around. What part of this vacation went to plan?”
“It was supposed to be perfect.”
I threw up my hands. “For the love of God, get over it.”
The flight nurse held up a hand. “We are filling that seat. There are so many victims here, I can’t go back with an empty seat.”
The other patrol guy pointed past me down the hall. “Take him. He looks worse than everyone else combined.”
I turned around and there was Flincher in all his glory. The patrol guy was not wrong. He was only wearing pajama bottoms and was rubbing his bony hands together while eyeing me with something like hunger. Zombies on The Walking Dead had more flesh on them. That show might well have designed the zombies after Abacus B. Flincher now that I thought about it.
“What the…” said the nurse and she called into Stephanie’s room, “We’ve got a bad one out here.”
“He’s not a victim,” I said. “That’s just him.”
Someone called out of Stephanie’s room. “They’re landing. Let’s move.”
The nurse pointed at Guy. “Secure the patient.”
“He’s not a patient,” I said.
“Are you kidding? If he wasn’t standing, I’d swear he was dead,” said the nurse.
“I think a tooth just fell out of his head,” said Max.
“Yeah, he does that,” I said.
“He’s our second seat,” said the nurse. “Get him, Guy.”
Guy got Flincher and he was not thrilled. He kept yelling, “I want my samples.”
As Guy got him wrapped up in a robe, I heard him say, “He’s altered. We’ll need an evaluation.”
Flincher was getting a psych eval. About time.
The other crew member and the patrol guy got ready to move Stephanie. I asked Max, “What happened? Why did David come after you?”
Max ducked his head. “I heard you on the stairs, but I already knew. There wasn’t enough time for David to be in the kitchen. Jojo would’ve seen him.”
“You took the stairs?” I asked, slapping my head. “Of course, you do that for training.”
“I didn’t believe it though. He seemed nice, so I decided to test him,” said Max.
“What did you do?” Chuck asked.
“I mentioned that you were wrong. Mutti was remembering things. Then I came up here and waited to see if he’d come.” He jutted out his chin. “I had a knife. I would’ve stabbed him, but he came up the back stairs and surprised me. He had a keycard. He was going to get in.”
“That was incredibly brave,” said Chuck.
“It was stupid, but I was so mad. He almost killed Mutti. I wanted to hurt him.” Max looked at Johanna. “You were brave. I can’t believe you came out to fight.”
“I had to do it,” said Johanna.
“Brave,” said Max.
They carried out Stephanie and I told her that I’d watch the kids.
“You’ve already done so much,” she said.
“A little bit more won’t make any difference.”
Chuck started to follow Stephanie and the nurse snagged him. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m checking you out.”
Max started to follow his mom and the nurse said, “You too. Do not move or I will squeeze you onto that flight.”
Max screwed up his face, but he and Chuck stayed put.
“You’ll go with us to the helicopter, won’t you, Mercy?” Johanna asked, clutching Peanut to her chest.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Chuck, I’ll be right back.”
Chuck grumbled but consented to going in Stephanie’s room for an exam. Luca said he was staying with Max, so Johanna and I trailed Stephanie down the hall. We got in with her instead of the elevator with Guy and Flincher, who looked a little scared of his patient. Who could blame him?
We got down to reception and there was no avoiding the group now. They’d caught sight of Flincher being forced out of the elevator and onto the skywalk. There were bound to be a lot of questions about him alone.
Peanut was chirping and wiggling in Johanna’s arms, and she said, “I will take him to pee, Mutti, and then I will be right back.”
Stephanie nodded and closed her eyes as they carried her into reception and set her down for a quick breather. She asked if they could wait for Johanna and the crew were happy to.
Andy helped Lauren to her feet. She had stopped crying and the group came over en masse, including Heather who was dabbing her eyes and looking oh so pained at Lauren’s distress.
“Mercy,” said Lauren. “Is it true?”
“Which part?” I asked.
“Did he kill Elliot’s family?” She wiped her eyes and glanced at Elliot. “I just need to hear her say it.”
“It’s true, but you already suspected, didn’t you?” I asked.
“Suspected? How would I ever think that about him?”
“Well,” I said, “you were asking about St. Louis. I thought you were on to him. He thought you were.”
Lauren didn’t suspect David of anything like what he was guilty of. She’d been a legal secretary for seven years when he joined the practice and although David was smooth and charming, he showed a lot less knowledge of the law than the other lawyers in the firm. He wasn’t clueless and he did a reasonable job. She just thought he might have padded his résumé. Wash U’s law school was practically Ivy League and produced excellent lawyers. Jane knew that and didn’t see how he had such little knowledge of US decisions and precedent. That was what they hired him for. He was an expert for their US connected clients and cases. She wanted me to find out if he actually graduated from Wash U or had gone to a lesser school. She didn’t think he hadn’t gone to law school at all. She believed he was an American and rich. David didn’t need to kill her. She didn’t know anything and there probably was a real David Harris that went to Wash U.
“He seemed real,” she said. “He had everything on Facebook and Instagram. I looked. Everything was there. The firm checked him out. They thought he was real.”
Elliot put a hand on her shoulder. “He did the IT work for his old firm, the one he stole from. It was a sophisticated plan. He might not have been a genius, but he was good at what he did. I’m sure he stole someone’s identity. He spent a year abroad in high school. Maybe he met someone during that time and used them.”
“So David did everything,” said Heather. “I thought it was Sivert.”
“No, you didn’t,” I said without thinking.
Mike frowned. “Mercy, you told us Sivert did it.”
Andy smiled at me, and I decided to just let it out. No need to avoid it. The police were on the way.
“I did, but she knew that wasn’t true,” I said.
“How would Heather know that?” Anne-Marie asked.
“Because she knew David was lying about getting poisoned.”
Mike frowned. “He wasn’t poisoned?”
“No. Andy’s timeline proved it,” I said and Andy grinned wider. “There wasn’t enough time for Heather to have crushed the chef’s pills, poison the cheesecake, clean up, and for David in there to eat before Johanna showed up.”
Heather froze. Mike’s mouth fell open and then he laughed. “You think Heather’s the poisoner?”
“I know she was. She planted the pill bottle in David’s room because he had no defense. He couldn’t say he didn’t do the poison because he was out killing Stephanie and Sivert. David was on the hook real good.”
“See he did do it all,” said Heather with a flip of her hair.
“Puhlease,” I said. “You think Davidson Butterworth who killed his family and successfully avoided capture for eight years would leave an incriminating pill bottle in an empty drawer? No, he would not. You put it in there because you did it.”
“You can’t be serious,” said Mike. “You really think she poisoned Johanna? That takes planning and thought. She doesn’t think or plan.”
“She planned on killing you,” said Andy.
“This woman?” He pointed at Heather. “She couldn’t kill someone, like with a plan, and get away with it. Like you said, she’s not Davidson Butterworth.”
“That’s what you think.” Heather looked very smug, but then everyone took a step back from her. I had the pleasure of watching it slowly dawn on her what she’d said right out in the open. Then she slapped her hands over her mouth and took off running on her five-inch spike heels.
“Where’s she going?” Andy asked.
“Crazy,” I said.
“She’s already there.”
Andy grinned and we chased after her through the skyway and into the station. Heather ran around in circles looking for a way out.
“Heather!” I yelled. “It’s over!”
She spotted the open door to the gondola and went for it.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Two in one day?” Andy asked and we ran after her.
Heather, the woman whose husband thought she was a nitwit, proved it. She ran right off the end of the platform and a poof of snow went up. We slowed down and ambled to the edge to see her in a huge snow drift, flailing around and bleating for help.
Andy gazed down at her. “I’m not doing it.”
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “She’s on her own.”
Footsteps pounded onto the platform, and I had a sense of déjà vu.
“What happened?” Johanna asked.
Peanut growled and went crazy.
“Don’t!” Andy and I yelled.
She did and Peanut ran right off the end of the platform. He got more distance that time. I’ll give him that.
Peanut got rescued. Heather did not. Overhead, the second Rega came in for a landing and a couple of snowmobiles zoomed up the trail with police on the back. They saw Heather and stopped. They got off and listened to her yelling about how she was a model and needed immediate rescue.
In response, the ski patrol saved Peanut first. Then they turned to Heather, who took off her heels and threw them toward the men. You got to save the heels. That’s what’s important when you’re wearing a mini dress and no coat in twelve-degree weather.
The men looked questioningly at us, and we pointed at her yelling, “Poisoner!”
They crossed their arms and let her flail about, eventually getting close enough that they offered some unenthusiastic help. Then she yelled about how they had to get her shoes. They did not and she started wailing. By the time Heather got back inside she was frozen, wet, and babbling.
Stephanie went up the elevator to the Rega after an emotional goodbye with Johanna. Flincher went too, still yelling at me about samples and how I owed him. I did, but I was unmoved. So were the medical staff who were caring for him while trying to hold their noses.
“What was that?” asked one of the police.
“Hard to explain,” I said.
“Is anything about this situation easy?”
I looked at Heather talking about how she had to do it and inheritance. We had to understand. It was perfectly logical.
“I think it’s about to get a little easier,” I said as Heather ran in a circle and then went for the skywalk, screaming about how she’d been assaulted.
We followed the police through the skywalk with Johanna, who was a little shaky but stalwart about staying with her brothers.
Once we were in reception, Heather saw Mike and changed to yelling about him having ridiculous luck. The woman up and confessed in a fierce eruption of rage and disappointment. Mike was way off about his wife. She could definitely plan. Her father had terminal cancer and he owned an enormous industrial dairy farm outright. There were two people to inherit, Heather and her brother. Heather wasn’t all about fair or share so she had visited home in Nebraska and let it slip to a few choice individuals that her brother was gay and married to a black man.
This, of course, got back to her awful father, and he promptly disinherited her brother as she knew he would. The old man was fading fast, and she couldn’t get divorced quick enough so she’d have to cut Mike in. She wasn’t about to do that so she decided a painful poisoning would suit Mike just fine. With his heart condition, she figured it was a lock. Circumstances intervened and she was pissed.
“Your brother is the best person in your family. How could you do that to him?” Mike yelled. “I can’t believe I left my wife and kids for you. What the hell, you psychotic dingbat?”
“Why couldn’t you just die? How hard is it to die?” Heather yelled, full of umbrage at Mike’s failings.
The police arrested her, causing more umbrage.
“You can’t arrest me! I’m an American.”
They sighed and continued.
“You confessed Heather,” I said. “What did you think was going to happen?”
She sneered at me. “That doesn’t count. They didn’t do the Miranda.”
“That’s a US thing. We’re in Switzerland.”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “My fourth husband told me that they have to—”
We didn’t get the rest of what her fourth husband told her because the police shoved her out the door onto the skywalk. Mike stood there staring and didn’t speak again for a full hour. More police came and the interviews went on for what seemed like forever. We did get the news that Audrey’s husband was arrested. That idiot kept his container of Thallium pesticide under the kitchen sink and was apparently just as pissed as Heather that his wife didn’t cooperate by dying. His motive was just as easy to find: huge life insurance and a girlfriend.
Other than Mike, I think Lauren took the turn of events the hardest. Elliot was wonderful with her, especially after patrol recovered David’s body and reviewed the video footage. Once you knew there was a rock in his backpack, it was obvious, and Lauren confirmed that they had split up that day so Butterworth could go off-piste. She didn’t know where he went, but everyone felt confident that they’d find witnesses to prove he went to that area, so he had an opportunity to drop the rock. His backpack was definitely empty when he returned to the station at lunch.
After the interviews, the police said we were all welcome to leave the hotel by snowmobile since the gondola wouldn’t be fixed for a couple of days, but to their surprise, everyone declined. We wanted to be together, survivors of the storm. The chefs served dinner in reception, tapas style, and we ate together in front of the fire with the Christmas tree twinkling and discussed presents and when we could ski and just about everything but what had happened.
I did as I promised and told stories about my life in crime. The kids entertained us with skits and Johanna sang for the first time in public with a voice that moved more than one of us to tears. We played charades and laughed. These were friendships that would never end, and we all knew it.
One by one the survivors wandered off to bed yawning until only Chuck and I were left cuddled up with a sleeping Peanut, staring at the glowing embers of the fire.
Chuck had been the quietest of the entire group. Everyone understood with what he’d been through, but I knew him. It wasn’t shock, pain, or PTSD. This was something else.
“Tell me,” I said when I was sure no one was left to listen.
“Nothing to tell,” he said.
I uncurled from his side and faced him on the sofa. “Clearly there is.”
Chuck looked away and said, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I planned it.”
“You can’t plan for psychos. It’d be really nice if we could.”
“I wanted it to be perfect,” he said.
I kissed his cheek and said, “I’m good with it.”
“How can you be? Look at me. I’ve got an eye patch,” he said. “I’m a pirate.”
“Ay matey, but I love me a good pirate.”
He gritted his teeth and said, “It’s not funny.”
“It’s kinda funny ’cause it’s us. Every time we do anything it’s a total disaster.”
“You think we’re a disaster?”
“Not us. Everything else,” I said.
Chuck still wasn’t looking at me. “And you don’t care?”
“About this vacation going south? No way. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.”
He turned to me with what looked like disappointment. “I’m sorry I couldn’t pull it off.”
“What?” I asked. “Perfection? Nobody can guarantee that. I love you for thinking you could.”
Chuck glanced at the embers and then frowned. “You know why we’re here, right? You figured it out.”
I groaned. “The Amelia thing? Yeah. That pedantic pain in the butt caused a whole lot of trouble.”
“Not that,” he said.
Chuck adjusted his eye patch and I leaned in. “You might be a pirate, but I’ve got Peanut tracks all over my face.”
Chuck looked at me and said, “I don’t even see them.”
“I know and I don’t see the patch. That’s the beauty of us.”
He slipped off the sofa and I grabbed for him. “Are you dizzy?”
“I’m okay,” he said, pulling out a small black velvet box. “Let’s see if you are.”
Chuck opened the box, revealing an incredible Art Deco engagement ring with a sapphire the size of my pinkie nail.
I stared at that ring and whispered, “That’s what this trip was about?”
“You really didn’t know?”
“No.”
He took the ring out of the box and said, “I wanted it to be just us before it was all of them. Your dad. My mom. The Bleds. The press. The world.”
Tears dripped down my cheeks. I never would’ve expected them, but there they were. “It’s just us. It’ll always be just us.”
“So will you?” Chuck asked.
“I will.”
Ring on finger. Future decided.
Perfect.
The End