Marty stood at the front desk, peering out into the parking lot like he was in some kind of trance. His eyes had deep-set bags under them, and although he looked tired, he did his best to muster up a smile when I walked through the door.
“Thanks for seeing me,” I said.
“Not at all, I’ll always make time for you my dear.” He gestured toward his office. “Let’s sit for a minute.”
I walked in and sat down on a chair designed more for its looks and less for its comfort.
“I wanted to talk to you about Charlotte Halliwell,” I said.
He nodded.
“When Audrey came to me asking for your number, I expected to hear from you again.”
“I met with her yesterday.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“She wanted to talk about what happened to her sister.”
Marty shook his head. “It’s a shame, really. Charlotte was such a sweet girl. I’ve known the family for years. Her grandfather was a big supporter of mine when I ran for mayor. He even donated to my campaign.”
I transferred the weight from one of my butt cheeks to the other. It didn’t help.
“Audrey believes Charlotte’s death wasn’t an accident,” I said.
Marty’s eyes broadened. He leaned all the way back in his chair, remaining there for a brief time before moving his body forward again.
“I don’t understand. What happened here was a tragedy, a horrible accident. What proof does she have to suggest otherwise?”
“Maybe nothing, but she’s hired me to find out,” I said.
“Do you think Audrey’s just in shock and doesn’t want to accept what happened to her sister?”
I shrugged.
“Maybe.”
He shook his head back and forth a few times. “I don’t know what to say. What can I do?”
“Can I take a look at the crash site?”
“I doubt it’ll do much good.”
“I’d still like to see it. Did Charlotte keep a locker?”
He nodded.
“Audrey called me this morning. She’s coming by later to get what Charlotte left here.”
“I’d like to take a look at the locker before I go,” I said.
“All right.”
“And I have one more request. I’d like to talk to your staff to see if anyone interacted with Charlotte on the day she died.”
Marty ran his forefinger and thumb across his jaw a few times, examining a picture on the wall of a skier plowing his way through a thicket of trees.
“Can you hold off on talking to my staff for now?” he said.
“I suppose…it sure would help me though.”
“I’d like to keep your investigation under wraps for the moment. We’ve only just opened, and I don’t want a bunch of different stories going around about this place before there’s any evidence to say she died any other way. You understand Sloane, don’t you?”
I was disappointed, but he had a good point, and I agreed to hold off, but only for the time being.
Marty escorted me out of his office and toward the gondola lift. The sun peeked through the trees, trying to convince me it was warmer outside than it seemed. I bundled up like a stay-puff marshmallow, but the pricey snow gear designed to keep me warm only did a half-ass job at best. Marty threw a thick, black jacket over his suit and changed out of his dress shoes into a pair of snow boots. And we were off.
Charlotte’s crash took place near the bottom of a steep ski run. We took the lift most of the way down, and then trudged through the snow on foot to the area where the accident occurred. A new batch of fresh powder concealed any indication of skiers being there before us.
“Here we are,” he said.
“Impossible to tell anything happened here.”
He shrugged.
“Snow groomers came around last night and flattened it all out.”
I turned my attention to the tree. The exact spot where Charlotte hit appeared unharmed. I found it odd that she ran into it at all. From the center of the run, it stood some twenty plus yards away. There were a few other trees in the immediate vicinity, but it was sparse at best.
“What about possible problems with her equipment?”
“There weren’t any,” he said.
“And no one was around to see it happen?”
“Not a soul until she was found.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I guess I’m done here then.”
We returned to the main entrance, and Marty retrieved the key to Charlotte’s locker.
“It’s through those doors,” he said. “133.”
“Did she rent this for the day only?”
He shook his head. “Charlotte came in about two or three times a week, sometimes more. I gave the locker to her for the season.”
Locker 133 was separated into two compartments. The top shelf contained a pair of jeans. I checked the pockets and found nothing. I then pulled out a black studded belt, a red sweater, white socks, and a pair of black boots. Nothing unusual there. On the second shelf, I removed an oversized handbag. Inside was a real estate book of some kind. I flipped it open. On the left was a pocket containing a small monthly planner with the names and numbers of all her appointments. I flipped to the back of the book and checked the other pocket. Empty. The rest of the handbag had all the usual items: a brush, hand mirror, lipstick, and Charlotte’s cell phone. I took it out and slid it open. There were three phone messages and two text messages. Two of the calls were from an appointment she’d missed. A husband and wife with the last name of Duchene called to find out why she was late and then tried back a second time thirty minutes later. The third call was from Charlotte’s assistant, Bridget, who said the Duchene’s had called Vicki when she failed to show up, and not to worry.
I checked the text messages. Both were from Parker Stanton. The first one arrived at nine fifteen on the morning of her death and contained three simple words: I miss you. The second message followed ten minutes later: Why are you ignoring me, Charlotte! Don’t play games with me.
I shoved Charlotte’s cell phone inside my jacket and took the key back to Marty.
“Any luck?” he said.
“I don’t think so.”
I didn’t want to worry him if he didn’t need to. Since I hadn’t found any incriminating evidence, I decided a couple angry text messages weren’t worth sounding the alarm.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. “I wanted to give you something.”
Marty reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two tickets for the Jazz vs. Lakers game.
“I planned on taking the Missus, but she’s tied up for another two days in Houston,” he said. “And there’s never a dull moment around this place. Besides, I know if there was a team you wanted to see, it would be the Lakers.”