Double Black Diamond (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (18 page)

Then I texted Spidermonkey and asked if he could get access to police evidence files. He asked if it was about Rory. When I said yes. He texted, “On it.”
 

I took a shallow breath so as not to smell anymore lox than necessary and went out to the kitchen. There was a grey haze in the air from the smoking oil and I stifled a cough.
 

“There you are,” said Nancy, smiling from ear to ear. “Hungry?”

“Absolutely. Smells great.” This is where lying fits like my skinny jeans, tight and flattering.
 

“Great. Sit down.”
 

I pulled out a chair next to Pete when the doorbell rang. A reprieve, just what I needed.
 

“I’ll get it,” I said and dashed for the door, almost hoping it was the cops there to arrest me for almost anything.
 

It wasn’t the cops and that really would’ve been better than who it was. Aaron stood outside our door, holding a fire extinguisher.
 

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“Something’s wrong in your condo,” he said.

I pushed him back and closed the door behind me. “It’s not on fire.”
 

“It should be.”
 

“Don’t say anything to Pete’s mom.”
 

“How come?” he asked.
 

“She thinks she can cook.”
 

Aaron tried to walk past me. “I’ll help her.”
 

“No, you won’t. She thinks she’s a great cook. Pete thinks so, too.”
 

“Not possible. That’s a crime against food.”
 

“I know, but how’s it going to look if you come barging in, telling her she’s terrible. I’m trying to make a good impression on this woman.”
 

“People die from food that smells like that.”
 

“I know. I’m half dead now. Please just go.”
 

Aaron didn’t move. I could try and push him into the elevator, but he’d just come back. He always came back. There was only one thing that made Aaron run away.
 

“I’ll eat crab,” I said. “If you leave and forget this ever happened I’ll eat whatever you make.”

He went up on the balls of his feet and hugged the fire extinguisher. “I have this idea for a fresh take on menudo. Extra tripe and crab.”
 

Blech.

“Fine. Sounds like something that a starving person would love to eat. Now go before she sees you,” I said.
 

The door opened behind me. “Where are you going, Aaron?” asked Nancy.
 

I tried so hard.

“Huh?” Aaron scratched his belly.
 

“Are you hungry?”
 

“Lox is supposed to — ”

I grabbed him and spun him towards the elevator. “Be wonderful this time of year.”

“I have extra,” said Nancy.

“He was just going to go…back to Rodney because his temperature is up and the thermometer broke.”
 

“Oh, no. Can I help?”
 

“No, no. I’m going to go down there and check on Rodney. I’ll eat when I get back,” I said, continuing to push Aaron down the hall.
 

“You’re in your robe,” said Nancy.

“Nobody will care. Colorado casual. It’s a thing.”
 

We went up to the penthouse floor. Aaron talked nonstop about his menudo idea and the possibility of a menudo-flavored hot dog. It was too gross to be considered, but Aaron had some pretty strange ideas about hot dogs.
 

The condo was quiet, except for the clamor of Uncle Morty’s snore. He was still in the easy chair with a game controller in his lap. I bypassed him and went in to Rodney. He was awake and holding a steaming latte.
 

“How are you feeling?” I asked.
 

“Better. Want to play Rayman Legends?” Rodney held up a game with cute cartoon characters.

“That doesn’t sound like your kind of game. Where are the dragons?”
 

“It cheers me up. I’ll teach you.”
 

“I’ll come up after skiing.” I gave him his next doses and changed out his pea bags.
 

Uncle Morty came in behind me. I could tell it was him by the way the floorboards complained. “What are you up to?”
 

“What’s it look like?” I asked.
 

“I’m looking at your face. You look like Tommy when a case has gone south.”

“Well, let’s see. Rod has a broken wrist and a torn meniscus, Aaron wants to tell Nancy she’s a terrible cook, I’ve barely skied at all, and Wallace keeps peeing on me. Is that enough for you?”
 

“That ain’t it. You’re assholes and elbows. This is supposed to be a vacation.”
 

“That’s what I’m going for. Relaxation.”
 

“Bullshit.”
 

We stood staring at each other. Uncle Morty wasn’t easy to fool and I didn’t fool him then. My best hope was to distract him.
 

“You want to help me relax? Take Wallace,” I said.
 

“That rat dog.”
 

“Yeah, the rat dog. Nancy keeps sticking her with me. At this rate I expect to go skiing with her in one of those baby carriers.”
 

“That would be freaking hilarious.”
 

“You take the dog or I’m telling Dad you’re the one who drank his special peach schnapps from Germany,” I said.
 

“You wouldn’t,” he growled.

“Try me. It’s been a long week.”
 

Rodney waved his cast at me. “I like dogs.”
 

“It’s settled then. Wallace is spending the day here.” I tucked Rodney in and marched out of the bedroom. Uncle Morty said behind me, “What just happened?”
 

“We got a dog,” said Rodney.
 

I headed for the door and Aaron handed me a Nutella crepe fresh off the griddle. “Tell Nancy you’re having dinner here. I’ll fix her.”
 

“As long as you fix her without saying she sucks,” I said.
 

Aaron agreed and since he was a man of few words I was inclined to believe him. I should’ve thought it through.
 

Chapter Eleven

We made it down to the ski lockers an hour later and by we I mean Nancy, Calvin, and me. Pete had felt compelled to check on Rodney. The only upside was that he pried the snarling Wallace off my ski pants and took her with him. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to ski with Pete. When he said, “Let’s go skiing with my parents,” I assumed he’d be there. Calvin and Nancy didn’t seem to have the same feeling because when he begged off, they simply nodded and got their gloves.
 

So it was me and the parents booting up. Luckily, they were fairly oblivious and didn’t notice the fact that I was checking my phone every thirty seconds. So far nothing from either Cullum Dushane or Spidermonkey. Until I knew what was in Rory’s bag and if the cops had his phone there was nothing for me to do but ski.
 

We stomped out the door into the glaring sunlight. Not a cloud to be seen and the snow half blinded me. I put down my goggles and hoofed it over to the ski racks. There’d been a couple inches of fresh powder overnight. Light fluffy snow that made me happy just to drop my skis in it.
 

“There’s my cover girl.” Mickey Stix walked into my perfect morning and pooped on it.
 

“Excuse me,” said Nancy.
 

“I’m sorry. I meant Miss Watts.” Mickey grinned and draped an arm over my shoulder.
 

I couldn’t see Nancy and Calvin’s eyes behind their goggles, but the set of their mouths wasn’t good. I shrugged his arm off. “I’m not your anything.”

“Not yet,” said Mickey. “You are stunning, just what I need.”
 

“I doubt it.”
 

Mickey laughed, the throaty one I remembered from the old videos featuring lots of chest hair. “I’ve done my homework. I’m good that way. You are Miss Mercy Watts, a natural Marilyn look-alike, and the camera loves you. I don’t mind the media frenzy. I’m counting on it.”
 

“Who are you?” asked Calvin.
 

Mickey raised his goggles and flashed those famous eyes of his. “Are you serious, man?”
 

“Completely.”
 

“I’m Mickey Stix of Double Black Diamond. Perhaps you’ve heard of us.” He put his hand around my waist.

“Vaguely familiar. I’ll thank you to stop touching my son’s girlfriend,” said Calvin.

Mickey put up his hands and grinned like a little boy who’d just taken two suckers out of my good patient bowl instead of just one. “Hey, no harm no fowl, but Mercy’s a free girl. I have an offer she’s likely to take.”
 

“Do you require medical care?” asked Nancy. “She’s a nurse.”
 

“She’s more than that. A whole lot more. I like that in a woman. So much to discover.” Mickey put his hand on my back and rubbed in concentric circles.
 

I clipped into my skis and looked for best line of escape and happened to notice a woman in a purple ski jacket and black pants watching me. Nina Symoan. She’d seen everything. I poled away from Mickey as fast as possible.
 

“I’ll be in touch,” yelled Mickey.
 

“Not interested!” I yelled, hoping Nina had heard me. I’d had men hit on me in front of their wives before and it was always a rotten experience. I was invariably blamed as if I’d asked for it by walking in the room. Wives yelled at me. I’d had ice water thrown in my face on one occasion. But that day the wife didn’t move. She watched me pass by, expressionless. I wanted to text Dad that if I turned up dead he should look at Nina Symoan.
 

We got on the American Eagle lift and spent the next two hours skiing blues. We had miles of powder and the runs were fabulous. I forgot to check my phone every other second and remembered why I was in Colorado. There’s nothing like sitting on a lift with your neck warmer pulled up over your nose, wearing every piece of ski clothes you wear and still freezing your rump off. Then sliding off the lift without an obese hacker landing on you and carving like it was the thing you were meant to do and getting so hot you’re ready to peel off layers by the time you get to the bottom.
 

Calvin and Nancy were very good, fast turns and a light-heartedness that I didn’t expect out of two fierce Scrabble players. They took turns icing me and helped me gather my equipment after I had a yard sale. After the blue runs, they convinced me to take the Excelorator up to Mine Dump and try out our first black run of the day. I thought I might die, I always think that, but none of us died or even crashed. In my case that could be because I was going at a pace that snails would’ve made fun of. Then Calvin led us toward East Village and we went down Overlode and it was overload. My thighs were on fire.
 
Calvin and Nancy were animals. They wanted to go again. So, of course I had to. I couldn’t be out-skied by a couple that were practically senior citizens. We tried every black run under the Super Bee lift until my legs were shaking so hard I was pretty sure the inside of my knees were black and blue.
 

I was all for hitching a ride on the handy ski bus back to Center Village, but the crazy parents decided we should go up the Super Bee, cut over, and come down to the American Eagle. When we got down to the bottom, Nancy said, “I’m ready for a break.”
 

Thank god!

Calvin agreed and Nancy said she’d make lunch. I feared lunch had something to do with the festering lunch meat in the refrigerator, so I told them I liked to do a green run after so many blacks. That was true. Greens eased my muscles and kept me walking upright the next morning, but I was so exhausted, if Nancy wasn’t trying to give me salmonella I would’ve called it a day. Since she was, I went for the Flyer and its non-poisonous green runs.
 

The Flyer was more crowded than I expected, but the police tape and tent were gone, so I guess people were over the creepy factor. I got in the singles line after a moment of hesitation. I almost went to Aprés to hide out, but that seemed like the kind of thing I’d get caught at, so into the line I went. It took awhile to get through and my heart rate finally went back to normal only to shoot back up. DBD was in the multiples line just ahead of me. They looked like rock stars even in ski clothes, very shiny and oddly tight. Darren Echols, the bassist, was wearing his signature all black, while the rest of them sported lots of gold. A cheerful blond guy was scanning tickets and I hung back in hopes of getting a chance to ask him some questions.
 

DBD were next in line. Mickey, Nina, Wade, and Wade’s brother, Jimmy, were together. Darren and the girl with the tattoo that I’d seen on the first night were in the second set along with the manager, Victor Mooting, and a guy who must’ve been a bodyguard. He knew steroids up close and personal. Then there was another four pack of bodyguards. Aside from Uncle Morty, I’d never seen anyone so large on skis.
 

Then Mickey’s group held back and he and Nina bent their heads together. Mickey smiled and nodded, then they shuffled ahead to the lift guy, who was ready with his scanner and a Copper Mountain map.
 

“Dude, you guys are awesome,” he said as he scanned Mickey’s ticket. “Can I have your autographs? My dad will totally freak.”
 

Mickey and the rest of DBD signed the guy’s map. Then they all moved forward around the curve to chairs moving in their measured pace. All except Nina. She held back and the guy in front of me was shuffled in with the bodyguards. Lift guy pointed his scanner at me. “Come on, girl. Let’s go.”
 

Go with who?

Nina waved one of her poles at me.
 

Oh crap!

The guy behind me said, “She’s waiting on you. Hurry up.”