Avalanche: A Sheriff Bo Tully Mystery (Sheriff Bo Tully Mysteries) (16 page)

AT 2:45 TULLY WAS OUTSIDE
the lodge staring up the slope of the mountain. No sign of the frat boys. He couldn’t believe they would be late. He checked his watch again. Five minutes to three. He sighed. Pap came out and stood next to him. The old man took out the makings and started rolling one of his cigarettes.

Tully said, “A couple more minutes and I’ll have you roll one of those for me.”

The old man snapped his thumbnail on a kitchen match and lit the cigarette. The end of the paper burst into a tiny flame, then died to a glow. Pap blew a cloud of smoke at Tully. “Can’t,” he said. “These things will kill you.”

“Those things are already killing me,” Tully said. “I might as well smoke them myself.”

“No sign of the boys?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe they all got killed in an avalanche.”

“Just my luck,” Tully said.

He looked at his watch again. One minute to three. He squinted up at the slope. A tiny dot shot out into the open. Then another dot. Finally a third dot.

“Great!” Tully said. “Here they come. And they’re on time.”

Pap squinted up at the skiers. “I thought there was supposed to be four of them.”

“Three is good enough.”

The skiers swooped in and slid to a stop in front of Tully and Pap.

“How’s our time?” Rodney asked.

“Perfect!” Tully said.

Wiggy and Turk joined Rodney in a cheer.

“How was it?” Pap asked.

“Great!” Turk said. “Exactly like the 3-D map indicated. The guys that made it must have been really good. Maybe I’ll switch over to geography.”

“Where’s Lance?” Tully asked.

“Oh, he’s coming,” Rodney said. “He took a header into a drift, but he’s all right.”

Tully squinted up the ridge again, just as another dot zipped into sight.

“Shoot,” Tully said. “I thought I’d saved a hundred bucks.”

“Keep the money,” Wiggy said. “This is the best skiing we’ve had in years.”

Lance slid to a stop in front of them. “These rats left me, and I wasn’t even dead,” he said.

“Worse yet, Wiggy just told me I could keep the money I promised you, not that my promises mean anything.”

“Hey, the skiing was fantastic!” Lance said. “You saved this vacation for us, Sheriff. I may even apologize to your Indian friend for him beating me up.”

“That would be nice. Was my deputy waiting for you?”

“Right where you said he would be. Brian hauled us into town, bought us each a submarine sandwich, and then hauled us up to the Blight Mountain Lodge ski lift. Just as you showed us on the map, it was all downhill from the top of the lift to here.”

“You did good,” Tully said. “And don’t forget, I may need you to testify at a trial.”

“Cool!” Turk said. “This gets better all the time.”

Tully snapped his fingers in front of Pap. The old man dug in his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. He peeled off four hundreds and gave them to Tully, who dealt them out to the boys. “Now you better lay off the booze the rest of your time here or I’ll call your parents. Furthermore, alcoholics make terrible witnesses at murder trials.”

“You bet, Sheriff,” Lance said.

Tully and Pap went back into the lodge. They stopped at the 3-D map. “My theory proved out like a charm,” Tully said.

“I take it you’re pretty happy,” Pap said.

“Yes, I am. I just proved that a good skier can ski downhill all the way around Mount Blight and do it in six hours. That’s plenty of time for Mike to have killed Horace Baker.”

“Mike killed Horace Baker?”

“I don’t know. I just know that it was possible for him to do it.”

“Do we have this case wrapped up?

“We’re getting close. Now all we have to prove is who killed Mike.”

“I hope that don’t take long, because my housekeeper is probably worried about me.”

“You mean you haven’t called Deedee since we’ve been up here?”

“Of course not. You never call a woman when you’re out on an adventure. Ruins the whole thing.”

“You’re right. I forgot.”

“You didn’t call Susan, I suppose,” Pap said. “Now that you and her are talking again.”

“No, I don’t think she regards hearing from me to be all that urgent. I’ll probably take a few days off, though, and go on a February camping trip. Think she’d be interested?”

The old man laughed until he was out of breath and in pain. “I see I never taught you to live without hope, Bo,” he said at last. “It screws up a man’s judgment.”

That night Tully ate dinner with Dave. Pap and Lindsay were at another table, the two of them engaged in their usual animated conversation. The old man was dangerous, but better him than Marcus, he thought. Marcus was probably more dangerous to women than Pap. The kid was weak. The worst mistake a woman could make was to marry a weaky, no matter how thin the pickings. Weakies turn women into tigers, and Tully already knew too many tigers.

“You got this crime solved?” Dave asked after the waitress had taken their orders. “I notice you went with the T-bone.”

“Getting close,” Tully said. “I’ve got Lindsay working on a list of the guests, to see if any of them stands out for some reason.”

“You looking for a hit man up here?”

“It’s something I’ve considered.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Dave said. “The road is supposed to be open by noon tomorrow. Then everybody is gone, including the hit man or hit men. And best of all, me! As I understand it, the lodge then fills up with dogsled racers.”

“Sounds awful,” Tully said. “I can’t stand the thought of being trapped here with dog people. All they talk is dog. So I’ve got to get this thing solved by noon tomorrow! You see anybody in this dining room that seems a likely suspect?”

Dave looked around. “How about our three guys over at that table in the corner? Maybe the guy you flattened is the hit man. Arrest him. He seems as good as any, even though he’s probably innocent.”

“Details, Dave. Details.”

AFTER HE WAS FINISHED EATING,
Tully walked over to Pap and Lindsay’s table and took Lindsay by the hand. “I need to talk to you, young lady.”

“Can’t you talk to me with Pap here?”

“No, I can’t.”

“He wants to warn you about me, Lindsay,” Pap said, smiling.

“Pap is my buddy,” she said. “I told you that.”

Her crutches were leaning against a chair. Tully leaned them against the wall and sat down across from her. “Yes, you did. But I’ve known Pap for over forty years, and I can tell you right now he is nobody’s buddy.”

“That’s mean,” Pap said.

“Actually, Lindsay, I figure you’re smart enough to take care of yourself. What I need to know is if you found anybody on the list that seems to stand out.”

“The only ones are those guys in the corner. You flattened one of them the other night.”

“I wish people would stop using that word.”

“
Flattened
?”

“Yes. Anyway, why do you think one of them might be the hit man?”

“It’s not so much the men but the women.”

“The women?”

“Yeah, they all look like hookers.”

Tully pretended to look casually around the room, taking in the table in the far corner.

“I’m not sure I know what hookers look like,” he said.

“
Escorts
might be a better word. You’ve got to admit the men are a pretty grubby bunch, but the women are all babes. How do a bunch of duds like that end up with three beautiful young women?”

“Happens all the time,” Tully said. “But I wonder the same thing.”

Lindsay said, “I would have to be paid a whole lot of money even to be seen with one of them.”

Tully took another casual look around the room. “I see your point.”

“And if you study them closely, you see that the women seem intensely interested in everything the men say. You ever see wives act that way?”

“Can’t say I have,” Tully said. “I do remember, though, that my wife, Ginger, was always very…uh…you may be right. Did you get their names?”

“They all registered as if they were married. But that doesn’t mean anything. The names could be phony, too.”

“Probably are,” Pap said. “What we need are fingerprints. Then we can find out who they really are.”

Tully called a waitress over. “Do you know who I am?”

“Sheriff Bo Tully,” she said, smiling.

“Right. Don’t look now, but there’s a table over in the far corner of the dining room with six people seated around it, three men and three women.”

“The one where you flattened that man the other night?”

Tully sighed. “That’s the one. Would you have the busboy not touch that table after the people are gone? And please don’t mention this to anyone. Tell the busboy to keep his trap shut, too, or I’ll arrest him.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m going to collect the drinking glasses from that table, and I don’t want the people there to know anything about it. Will you take care of this for me?”

“Yes sir.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Vera.”

“Pap, give me a bill.”

Pap dug the wad out of his pocket and peeled off a hundred. Tully gave the bill to the waitress. She appeared shocked.

“It’s okay,” Tully said. “He’s rich.”

The waitress and Pap beamed at each other. “Thanks!” she said.

“I didn’t know you were rich, Pap,” Lindsay said after the waitress left.

“Yup,” Pap said. “Modestly so.”

“I’m the only sheriff of Blight County in a century that hasn’t ended up filthy rich,” Tully said. “So far I’ve only accomplished the filthy. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Some of us are just more competent than others,” Pap said.

“Would you see about collecting the men’s glasses from that table,” Tully said to Pap. “And keep them in the right order.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything, Bo.”

“You do good work, Lindsay.”

“Thanks. Can I stay and help Pap?”

Tully shrugged. “Yeah, I guess a math major can take care of herself.”

Walking through the lounge, Tully tapped on the office door. No one answered. He tried the door. It was open. He walked in. Lois had apparently gone to her room. He flopped into her chair and dialed the phone. Herb answered.

“What are you doing there this time of night, Herb?”

“Hey, Bo! To answer your question, running this department is time-consuming. Keeps me working both night and day. I just turned out the night shift. Actually, it’s pretty peaceful here right at the moment. Your skiers make it back okay?”

“Yeah, right on time. Brian did a good job. Anyway, I’ve got some more work for you, Herb.”

“How did I ever guess?”

“What we need right now is to tie the gun I found to Mike Wilson. I doubt he registered it with the ATF, but he probably has it listed with his insurance guy. Would you see if you can track it down with the insurance?”

“You got it, boss. I’ll check on that tomorrow. He probably has all his guns listed with the insurance company.”

“Let’s hope so. What’s that noise?”

“Clarence! He barks all day. He’s driving me nuts.”

“I told you and Daisy to get rid of him!”

“Daisy won’t let anybody touch him. She loves that dog. And Clarence loves her. But she split with Albert the Awful, and her new apartment owners won’t allow dogs.”

“That dog better not be there when I get back. Otherwise he and I are taking a drive deep into the woods.”

“Good. That way we’ll be rid of Clarence and you’ll have Daisy’s wrath on you. By the way, the new
Blight Bugle
feature writer stopped by and wrote a feature on Clarence.”

“Are you crazy, Herb? Letting him do that? Now we’ll have the whole town up in arms if we do Clarence.”

“Maybe he could be shot while escaping.”

“The feature writer? Let me think about that.”

TULLY WENT UP TO HIS ROOM.
He was exhausted. The two murders were getting to him. He couldn’t remember when he had had such a hard time solving a crime. He ran the tub full of hot water. Then he looked through the paperback books stacked on a shelf. The only author he recognized was Danielle Steel. He took the book into the bathroom with him and read it while he soaked in the tub.

It was one of Tully’s theories that Danielle Steel probably knew more about romance than all the so-called experts put together. She had sold about a billion books to women all over the world. If she didn’t know what women wanted for romance, nobody did. Before he got to the part that might tell him what he wanted to know, he fell asleep and dropped the book in the water.

About midnight he woke up. He had sensed something: the water had turned cold and he was freezing. He got stiffly and painfully out of the tub, put on a lodge bathrobe, and started to shut the window to his room. The wolf howled. It was close this time. He turned out the lights and looked out the window, thinking the wolf might even be in the yard below. Nothing. He looked at the dark wall of trees. Nothing. Then he looked past the tree line into the woods itself. A person stood there. Tully knew who it had to be. The thought passed through his head that he might be looking at a werewolf. If so, the werewolf seemed to be staring directly at his window. Tully stepped back. When he looked again, the figure was gone. He crawled into bed. It was a long time before he went back to sleep.

Snow was still falling the next morning. He heard Grady start up the snowblower and go to work clearing the various paths. There was no traffic in the parking lot, so he knew the road hadn’t been opened yet. Supposedly, the county road department had been working night and day to clear the avalanche. He suspected it was probably more like day and day, if he knew the Blight County Road Department. They were not about to pay overtime for the convenience of the sheriff. In any case, he knew that he had until about noon to get the last of the murders solved. All the present guests would pack up and leave, and a new set would arrive. The actual killers might very well be gone within a few hours. At the moment, he didn’t have the slightest idea of where even to start. He decided his best bet would be a visit to the logical suspect.

He knocked on the door. Blanche answered. “Hi, Bo,” she said. “Come on in. I just made a pot of coffee. You want some?”

“Sounds good.” He sat down on her couch.

Blanche went into the kitchen and presently came back with two cups on a tray, cream and sugar, and the pot of coffee. She set the tray on the coffee table in front of Tully and poured the coffee. Tully dumped a dollop of cream in his coffee and added two spoonfuls of sugar.

Blanche sat down opposite him. “You come to arrest me?”

“Not yet, Blanche. I have to admit that I think you’re somehow involved, since you are the one who receives four million dollars.”

“I know you’ll never believe this, but I had no idea those insurance policies even existed. It’s awfully hard to prove you don’t know something.”

“Here’s the thing, Blanche, if you’re not involved in the murders, there’s no point in holding anything back.”

“I suppose not.”

“I hate to tell you this, but I’ve had one of my agents watching your apartment. Twice now she has witnessed a man come out of your apartment very early in the morning, like two o’clock.”

Blanche bent over and put her head in her hands. She seemed frozen in that position. At last she straightened back up. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about that. I’m not that kind of woman. Well, I guess I am, but I don’t think of myself that way. Mike and I have been essentially separated for well over a year. This thing started several months ago, when Mike pulled one of his disappearing acts. The person is kind and very caring toward me, and I don’t want to get him into trouble. He’s really a decent person.”

“I’m sure, but I need to know who he is.”

“Bo, I can’t tell you.”

“Then I’ll have to guess. I’m pretty sure it’s DeWayne, your bartender.”

“DeWayne!” She broke into a bitter laugh. “He’s more like my son, for heaven sakes!”

“I happen to know that he is a Scragg,” Tully said. “I’ve done a lot of business with the Scraggs, none of it good. If somebody commits a crime, I usually start arresting Scraggs until I find the right one. Suppose DeWayne kills Mike and then marries you and the two of you now share the four million. It’s perfect. I wish I had come up with the idea myself.”

“If you had, Bo, I might have taken you up on it. But I am absolutely not having an affair with DeWayne. He was just a boy when he started working here. He’s still a boy! I know all about the Scraggs and most of them are decent, hardworking people.”

“I don’t know any of those Scraggs,” Tully said.

“I suppose not. In any case, I’m not sleeping with DeWayne. And I certainly would never tell you if I was. You would think I was some sort of pervert.”

Tully tugged on the corner of his mustache. “If you don’t tell me who it is, I’m going down and grill DeWayne.”

“No, please, don’t do that. DeWayne knows nothing about this and I don’t want him to. Take me to jail first.”

“Blanche, I don’t want to take you to jail at all, but if you don’t give me the name, I’m afraid I’ll have to.”

“Then you’ll have to, Bo, because I’m not giving you the name. Mike’s killer could be any of the guests here. Some of them are new people I’ve never seen before, like the three men at the corner table.”

“It could be one of the men at that table, all right, but I’m checking them out as we speak. My agent has informed me that the three women at that table are probably paid escorts. The problem, Blanche, is I doubt there is a connection between those three men and the four million dollars. It’s that four million that’s causing you all this grief.”

“I know it is!”

“And that’s why the man who visits your room late at night is of interest to me.”

“It can’t be him, Bo. He’s the kindest, politest, most considerate man I’ve ever met. But he would never forgive me if I told you who he is.”

“Blanche, you just described all the sociopaths I know. Besides, I already have the evidence that should tell me who the killer is.”

“Then why don’t you arrest him?”

“Because I need to get it back to Blight City and have my CSI unit run some tests on it. If he turns out to be your late-night visitor, I may charge you as an accessory to murder.”

“Charge me with whatever you want, but just leave DeWayne alone.”