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“Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?” – Robert Burns
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OFFICER JED LINK ARRIVED only a few minutes after I made the call. Silver Powder Village is small and the tiny police station is less than a mile from the resort. I planted myself just outside of the Chalet to intercept Jed on his arrival. I didn’t want the sudden appearance of the local police to startle the guests. I’d already asked Janine, the dispatcher at the police station and an old friend of mine through my father, to request that the officers arrived without police lights and sirens. I was glad to see that Jed complied with my wishes.
I’ve known Jed most of my life. Our dads were friends when we were kids—his dad was on the local police force and my dad was an attorney. Jed and I were basically raised together, and we were best friends until the second half of our senior year of high school. After completing a stint in the Marines, Jed followed in his dad’s career path and became a police officer—first in Denver and now in Silver Powder Village. Some might think the move from Denver to Silver Powder was a demotion—leaving a large metro area police force to work for a tiny one—but Jed is now a police captain—something that might have taken much longer if he’d stayed in the city. When I was a kid, my dad directed me to do anything but practice law. I went to college, majored in business, and became a professional snowboarder. Our fathers are now both retired. My parents still live locally. Due to factors beyond their control, they don’t get around much these days. Jed’s dad lives in Florida, and Jed lives alone in his family’s old house just outside of town.
To say that Jed and I are still good friends would be exaggerating. We only talk if we have to, and that isn’t very often. Our friendship began to unravel in 12th grade when Mike Petersen asked me to the senior prom. Jed got pissed off with me for saying ‘yes’ to Mike. He tried to convince me to turn him down. How could I have known that Jed had planned to ask me to prom too? And anyway, Jed and I had never crossed the friendship line, we’d always had a strictly platonic relationship. Jed and I were like siblings. On the other hand, I barely knew Mike. He went full-stop. He made me a ‘promposal’—you know what I’m talking about—a sweeping gesture. It was the kind of invitation you see posted on YouTube that gets a million likes. That’s what Mike Petersen did for me.
Mike managed to hire a horse-drawn carriage to show up after school one day. The driver parked the carriage right in front of the high school’s main doors. When we were released from classes, the first thing everyone saw was a magnificent beast—the giant tan horse—hooked to a magnificent carriage covered in flowers. On the back of the carriage, a big sign said, ‘Mandy Swift, please go to prom with me.’ The carriage incident was a huge spectacle. Everyone in school talked about it. To be honest, the gesture embarrassed me. I had never given Mike Petersen much thought. He was rich, popular, and flirtatious and I was the opposite of him. I wasn’t popular because due to my training schedule, I rarely stayed on school grounds except to attend my classes. I had a small circle of friends, mostly other snowboarders, and I rarely attended school events. Everyone knew about the promposal, and it seemed like everyone assumed I would say yes. For that reason alone, I agreed to go to prom with Mike Petersen. Thank god Mike hadn’t proposed marriage, I might have been peer-pressured into a wedding at seventeen.
Prom was awkward, to say the least. Mike turned out to be a handsy jerk, and he ditched me after I fought off his advances. I hung out by myself for a large part of the evening. Jed, who didn’t have a prom date, drove me home that night. I’m still confused by what happened after the prom. What I know for sure is that Jed and I tested the boundaries of our friendship that night, and we broke it. Together. We broke our friendship together. We are both to blame. It wasn’t just me. I’m still haunted by the words that murdered our friendship.
“Do you love me, Mandy?”
“Jed...”
“Do you love me?”
“Jed, you’re my best friend. I love you but...”
“But what?”
“I don’t think I love you in that way.”
“Mandy, we just... you don’t love me?”
“I love you as a friend, Jed. I always will.”
After the prom, Jed grew cold towards me. He avoided me. I lost my best friend because we made an impulsive decision. To be fair, I didn’t realize Jed’s feelings for me were more than friendly. If I’d known how Jed felt, I would have done things differently. A few weeks after the prom, I remember my dad asking me why Jed didn’t come around anymore. I burst into tears and shut myself in my bedroom for the rest of the night. When my dad came looking for me to find out what happened, I couldn’t tell him what Jed and I had done. My dad persisted. He would tell me to invite Jed to dinner or to family game night and again and again, Jed didn’t answer my phone calls. The pain I felt was excruciating. I felt like I lost my friend, my right arm, and a couple of organs too. I felt lost. I threw myself into training—Taekwondo, running, skateboarding, trampoline—trying to forget Jed. None of it worked.
On the first Friday of June, Jed and I graduated from high school. The following week, Jed turned 18 and enlisted in the Marines. I had to hear about it from my dad. Jed and I had long-range plans to attend college together, and those plans were destroyed. I didn’t hear from Jed for years. I didn’t see him. I only knew that Jed was alive because our fathers were close, and I would get an occasional Jed update. When his time in the military ended, Jed went to college—out of state—for four years. I was in the thick of my snowboarding career by then, and we still hadn’t made up. We still hadn’t even talked. By then, I guess, the damage was done. Our falling out scarred more deeply than I would have ever imagined.
Jed came back to town less than a year ago to serve on the police force as the new Police Captain. Remarkably, our paths rarely crossed these days. We managed to place a lot of distance between us despite the small size of the village. I just always assumed that Jed never let go of his anger with me for things that happened years ago. My anger toward Jed stemmed from his inability to let go of the past. I missed him, but if Jed couldn’t forgive me, then I knew we couldn’t be friends.
Presently, I took a deep breath as Jed Link extracted his lean six-foot-three-inch frame from his police cruiser and greeted me in a cool and matter-of-fact manner. “Mandy,” he simply said while tipping his cowboy hat towards me. I knew that under the hat was a shock of close-cropped dark brown hair and that under his aviator sunglasses, Jed had magnificent silvery-blue eyes with just the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners. My heart clenched at the familiarity of my old best friend. He was familiar, and yet, he was all grown up if you know what I mean.
“Jed,” I stifled the urge to curtsey at Jed’s formality and tried my best to match his business-like tone.
“I heard you’ve had a bit of trouble,” Jed said with a nod. I don’t know how he manages to keep the cowboy hat on his head—Jed is prone to making head gestures.
“Jed, would you mind if we enter the Chalet through one of the service entrances?” I asked. I didn’t want to alarm any of the guests or attract any unnecessary attention.
“Lead the way, Mandy,” said Jed with a low voice and another nod. I didn’t think he understood the gravity of the situation.
I walked to the side of the building and entered a non-descript entrance using my passkey to unlock the door. We walked inside, found the staircase, and climbed the stairs to the second floor. We were in the correct hallway to access Crater McMurphy’s suite.
“Jed,” I whispered as we approached Crater’s room, “there’s something you need to know. The dead man is a bit of a celebrity. That’s why I am trying to keep this especially quiet. I don’t want to upset the other guests. I also don’t want any bad press.”
“Oh? Janine didn’t say anything about the victim being a celebrity. Is he a movie star?” Jed asked, “or a pro football player?”
“Not exactly,” I replied as we stood together outside of the suite.
“Looks like he ordered enough food for two people,” Jed noted, directing my attention to the untouched food tray just outside of the door. I noticed two sets of silverware too. Had Crater McMurphy been expecting his killer? Had he invited his killer into his room?
I unlocked the suite’s door for Jed. I prepared to step into the room, but Jed set one of his large hands on my shoulder and stopped me before I could cross the threshold.
“Police business, Mandy,” Jed said in a low and commanding voice. To say that Jed’s words irked me would be an understatement. Didn’t he trust me? Well, that was a stupid question. Of course, he didn’t trust me. This was Jed, after all.
“Jed, I’ve already entered the room,” I argued. Was he worried that I would contaminate the crime scene? “I’ve already touched the door, the light switches, and the curtains. The patio door was already open. I didn’t touch it.”
“Still. Please remain outside while I have a look,” said Jed in a surprisingly forceful voice. Honestly, I didn’t know he had it in him. He was always such a friendly, quiet kid, content to let me lead the way. Maybe Jed Link was no longer the guy I remembered.
“Fine.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe and decided to be annoyed.
I watched as Jed entered Crater McMurphy’s suite. I saw Jed reach into his jacket and pull out what appeared to be a pair of plastic gloves, and I watched as he slipped the gloves over his hands. Jed slowly walked into the room as I hovered in the doorway observing him. My staff had already blocked off guest access to the hallway so I didn’t need to worry about any looky-loos hovering outside of the suite—aside from me, of course.
The lights that I had turned on earlier were still on in the suite, but I re-closed the curtains for privacy before I left to meet Jed in the parking lot. Jed approached the bed on which Crater’s lifeless body remained. He stepped forward and took a long look. He stood quietly and stone still for at least a minute. Then Jed grabbed his abdomen, hunched over, and ran through the suite towards the bathroom. A series of loud gags, wet sounds, swearing, and more gags followed. I could barely believe my ears—Jed Link was throwing up! The entire situation might have been comical if it weren’t for the dead body in the room. After waiting for what seemed like several minutes, I heard the toilet flushing and the sound of water running. Disobeying Jed’s orders to remain in the hallway, I entered the suite to check on him.
I wandered past the crime scene keeping a wide berth as I walked to the bathroom. I found Jed sitting on the edge of the bathtub with his head between his knees and his cowboy hat in his hand in front of him. It didn’t take a detective to discover that the crime scene made Jed queasy.
“Jed?” I said softly. I set my hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, I rubbed my hand up and down his surprisingly muscular arm a few times to comfort him. He was cold and as still as a statue. I wondered if he was in shock.
“Huh? Oh, Mandy. Nothing to see here,” Jed said in a rough voice with his head still between his knees.
“Um, yeah. I heard everything I needed to hear out there,” I replied swallowing my urge to laugh at him. I knew I was acting harsh, but after my history with Jed, being sweet to him didn’t come easy for me.
“Dammit, Mandy,” Jed said angrily without looking up at me. His voice sounded scratchy and raw from vomiting.
“Do you still have hemophobia after all of these years?” I asked. Honestly, I was a bit surprised. I assumed that Jed’s childhood fear of blood was something that he would eventually outgrow. If he didn’t grow out of his fear when he joined the Marines, surely, Jed, a police officer, would be desensitized to it by now. I mean, don’t police officers see blood every day? The whole situation was preposterous.
“Don’t you see blood pretty much every day?” I finally vocalized my thought as I lowered the toilet’s lid and sat down on it. I glued my eyes to my former friend. His predicament astonished me.
“Police scene,” Jed choked out a low, ineffective warning accompanied by a futile nod. He lifted his eyes and saw me perched on the porcelain throne. I struggled not to laugh.
“I can’t believe you still get sick when you see blood. Remember the time when I lost control of my sled and hit that tree? I broke my nose, and you were the one who passed out,” I snickered at the memory. We were ten at the time and best friends.
“Mandy, stop!” Jed said with a hoarse voice. He sounded like he could get sick again at any second. Perhaps my seat on the toilet was ill-advised. He might need the receptacle again. I considered moving.
“Oh geez, it’s still bad, isn’t it?” I asked with astonishment, “I can’t even talk about it or you’ll get sick, won’t you?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How did Jed function as a police officer with his affliction? How did he serve in the military?
Jed snarled. “Anyway, in answer to your previous question, no, as a police officer, I do not see blood every day. I mostly issue speeding tickets and pick up drunk tourists.” He lifted his head slowly to test if the wooziness passed. I noticed Jed’s normally tan skin was pale and that his usually brilliantly gray-blue eyes were now a bit bloodshot which made his eyes appear bluer.
“Okay. Well, what do you propose we do?” I asked. I knew that Jed couldn’t possibly process the crime scene easily. Based on my knowledge of his hemophobia, there was a lot more blood on Crater McMurphy’s pillow than Jed could tolerate. “There’s a dead man in the other room and a bloody crime scene to process. How are you going to work this case?”
“Officer Bates is on his way. I’ll have him process the scene, and I’ll conduct the interviews,” Jed said, finally straightening and placing his cowboy hat firmly back on his head. I wondered if Jed handled all of the crime scenes he encountered in this way. Did Jed step back and let his subordinates do the dirty work?
“Do you want me to get some ginger ale sent over from Slopes for you?” I offered, deciding to be helpful. “It might help your stomach.”
“No, Mandy, I don’t want anything from you,” Jed angrily roared.
I guess my face must have registered the shock that I felt. Jed’s comment stung. Clearly, he was still angry with me.
“Sorry Mandy,” Jed quickly apologized when he noticed my shocked face. He shook his head and then stood. “You should get out of here. It is a crime scene after all. I’m going to need a list of employees who were on schedule once I know the estimated time of death. Also, I need to know if the gentleman had anyone traveling with him. You said he was a celebrity?”
“Yes, his name is Crater McMurphy. Well, actually, I believe his real name is Jonah McMurphy. He’s an extreme sports celebrity on television. You may have seen his programs. Personally, I don’t watch them, but millions of Americans do. He is, was, quite popular.” Oh, good grief, I was speed babbling again. Something must be wrong with the synapses in my brain. I couldn’t think straight. Speed babbling to Tate Svenson was understandable; speed babbling to Jed Link was unconscionable.
“Right. I’ve heard of him,” said Jed. “I don’t really watch those programs. Give me a comedy any day.”
Ignoring Jed’s commentary about his entertainment preferences, I answered his question. “Mr. McMurphy had several travel companions with him, but honestly, I was told they would all be camping out last night. He showed up at Rascal’s last night sometime around eleven o’clock. I thought he would go camping afterward which is why finding him here is a bit of a shock. I mean in addition to the fact that I found him dead.” Naked and dead. Quelle nightmare. Dear God, if you’re listening, please let me die with my clothes on. Certain exceptions may apply, of course. I’ll think up a list of the exceptions later.
“If you can give me his companions’ names, that would be helpful. And you said you saw Mr. McMurphy at Rascal’s?”
“Yes, but we spoke only briefly. I was with Anne Marie and Vanessa. Anne Marie felt sick, and she and I left shortly after Crater, er, Mr. McMurphy arrived. That was around eleven-thirty. Anne Marie and I shared an Uber. I’ll see what I can do about collecting the names of his travel companions.” I made a mental note to check our service registries to see if they contained the names of Crater’s friends, also, I knew that Tate would know who they were, and Tate was due back in the afternoon.
“And Vanessa?” Jed asked, “What happened with her?”
“Uh, she stayed at the club. She texted me when she arrived home a little after one.”
Jed nodded, satisfied with my answers.
Unexpectedly, I heard the sound of an approaching siren, and I glanced at Jed. Officer Bates was on his way, and he hadn’t listened to my request to keep things quiet. All of my hopes of keeping the onsite death of a celebrity secret from my guests disappeared. I bolted from the room and out the service entrance to try to intercept Officer Bates before he attracted too much attention.
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OVER AN HOUR LATER, I was waiting for Jed in the lobby. I thought that he would want to check in with me before he left. My hopes of keeping the police presence on the down-low faded fast. Although the Chalet is rather small, there were scores of people mingling in the lobby trying to find out what happened. I instructed my staff to deflect.
“Any word?” Don, the concierge, leaned in and whispered as I approached his desk.
“Nothing yet,” I replied. “I don’t suppose you were on duty when Crater McMurphy returned to his room last night?”
“Honestly Mandy, I didn’t see him after he checked in. I heard that he had a little group by the pool yesterday. What do you think happened?”
“I have no idea, Don. I was under the impression that Mr. McMurphy was going to be camping offsite last night. I guess I’m going to need to see the catering records to see when he ordered room service.”
“Uh-huh, your friend Jed already got those records. He requested a guest list too. By the way, is Jed ill? He looked a little peaked.” I guess Jed decided to collect the information he needed without my help. That was...fine.
“I have no idea what was wrong with Jed,” I lied. I didn’t want to expose Jed for his phobia. I imagined his hemophobia was not good for his career. He probably didn’t want other people to know about it. I looked at my watch. It was after one o’clock in the afternoon, and I remembered that Tate was supposed to be picking up his daughter Skye in the lobby soon. I hoped that Tate would arrive early so that I could inform him about Crater and try to find out why he hadn’t gone camping with the group as planned. I also wanted to get the names of Crater’s friends.
I busied myself by checking in with the staff and ensuring that our guests were well taken care of. The bar staff ingeniously set up an impromptu Colorado beer and cider tasting in the courtyard to lure the guests as far away from the crime scene as possible, and it appeared to be working. I was making my rounds by the pool around two o’clock when my walkie came to life. Don was trying to reach me.
“Hello, Mandy, we have a Code Angel,” Don’s voice relayed to me through the walkie.
“Really? Where?” I asked. Code Angel was resort code for a lost or unaccompanied small child. We have all kinds of codes. We use ‘Code Pink Elephant’ for troublesome or inebriated guests and ‘Code Brown’ for a stopped-up toilet. I guessed we would need to set up a ‘Code Blue’ for dead guests.
“We have her sitting in the lobby. She was outside in the parking lot, and one of the guests brought her in.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in just a second,” I replied. I was feeling a bit flustered. A murder and a lost child on the same day? What were the odds of that happening? I left the pool area where I had been working, and I rushed to the lobby and spotted the ‘angel’ in question. I recognized her immediately.
“Skye?” I said as I approached the cute little girl with long brown hair and dark brown eyes.
“Mandy!” Skye shouted bouncing in her seat. She didn’t seem upset or lost. I glanced at my watch again.
“Hi, kiddo, where did you come from?” I asked as I took a seat next to Skye in one of our comfy lobby armchairs. I noticed she had a backpack and a skateboard at her feet.
“My mom dropped me off,” Skye said nonchalantly in her high-pitched kid voice.
“I see. Is your dad around?” I asked. I hadn’t seen Tate yet, but he might have been somewhere onsite. I craned my neck and looked around anxiously.
“No, he’s supposed to meet me at two-thirty,” Skye informed me. “And I am supposed to wait for him. Mommy said so.”
“Wait, did your mom leave you alone?” I asked trying to contain my anger. Leave it to Shannon to drop her eight-year-old daughter in the parking lot of a resort on a busy holiday weekend without another adult to supervise her. I was forever thankful to the individual who brought Skye inside of the Chalet. Who knows what might have happened to Skye if she was left on her own much longer?
Skye shrugged. “She told me to wait for Daddy.” Her casualness suggested to me that this wasn’t the first time Shannon had been careless with her daughter.
“Let’s see if your dad is on his way,” I said as I grabbed my cellphone and punched in Tate’s number.
The phone rang three times before Tate answered.
“Hey, Mandy, what’s up?” He asked in a cheerful voice like he was happy to receive my call. Clearly, the man was oblivious to everything that was happening at the Chalet, and I envied him.
“Um, I have Skye,” I replied.
“Skye? She’s not supposed to be there yet,” he sounded a bit bewildered.
“Shannon dropped her off in the parking lot a few minutes ago,” I struggled to contain my frustration.
“You’re kidding me,” said Tate. “No, you aren’t kidding. That sounds exactly like something that Shannon would do. Is Skye okay?”
“She’s fine. I just thought you would want to know that she’s here,” I replied. Truthfully, I hoped Tate was nearby. Skye is a cute kid, but I was out of my element. I mean, I don’t know anything about entertaining no babies—or something like that.
“I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving now,” said Tate angrily adding, “freaking Shannon.”
“Okay, well no need to hurry. I can walk Skye over to Slopes for ice cream,” I said as I directed my attention to Skye. She smiled.
“Thanks, for the heads-up, Mandy,” Tate replied. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Thanks for helping.”
“See you then.” We disconnected the call, and I looked at Skye while trying to hide my anxiety. “What kind of ice cream do you like?”
“Cookies and cream,” said Skye.
“Let’s see if we can find some,” I answered. I stood and took the little girl’s hand, and I walked with Skye to Slopes for a snack. “Your dad will be here soon,” I said it more for my comfort than Skye’s.
“Okay.” Skye skipped along beside me without a care in the world.