Double Black Diamond (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (19 page)

“I changed my mind,” I said. “You go.” I attempted to shuffle sideways, but there wasn’t much room.
 

“Holy crap,” said the guy behind me. “Just go.”
 

Lift Guy waved me up and my mouth went dry. Alone on a lift with Nina Symoan. She was going to hurt me.
 

I poled forward and I was reminded of the way Grandma George described Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg. I just kept going forward when it made not a damn bit of sense. I’d like to say I was brave. I wasn’t. I was just too stupid to think of a way to get out of it. Maybe Pickett’s men had the same problem.
 

The guy scanned my ticket and then Nina’s. Evidence for the prosecutor of exactly when Nina tossed me off the lift headfirst. We were next. The lift guys were grinning. One took pictures of us and said, “Crazy hot.”
 

DBD was up and away. Then the bodyguards. We were next. The chair swung around and scooped us up. I have never grabbed the safety bar so fast in my life. Then I sucked up to the far right side.
 

If I hook my arm around the bar, will I look like a terrified wuss? I don’t think I care.

Nina was looking at me and I thought about poking her with my poles so she’d move all the way to the left. Then she chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking.”
 

Probably not.

“You’re thinking I might toss you off this lift and say it was an accident.”
 

I’ll be damned.

“It’s not what you think,” she said.
 

I straightened up and put on my brave face, which I fear is pretty much like my scared-to-death face. “My experience tells me otherwise.”
 

“I can see that. I’ve been squeezing myself into this package for over thirty years and I’ve fended off my share of angry wives. I’m not an angry wife.”
 

“Oh, really?” I asked.
 

“Mickey and I aren’t like that,” she said, smiling.
 

Oh gross!

“Meaning what? You have an arrangement,” I said.
 

“Of a kind.”
 

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not interested.”
 

“Again, it’s not what you think. We want to hire you,” said Nina.
 

I stared at her through my pink-tinted lenses. “That is not an improvement.”
 

“To model.”
 

“Huh?” I sounded like Aaron, but without the food stains.
 

“As I said I’m over fifty. The band is in negotiations to get back together. They’ll need a new cover girl and I want to have you ready when the reunion happens. I’m beyond modeling now,” said Nina without a trace of discontent or bitterness. I would’ve expected a good deal of both. Nina was the hottest thing going when the band was packing arenas.
 

“You’ve still got it,” I said.
 

“I do, but the market likes a fresh face.” She leaned closer. “And you were born this way.”
 

She made it sound like I was disfigured. I could never say this out loud, but she was right. Being the spitting image of Marilyn Monroe set me apart in a really weird way. I didn’t earn it. Marilyn worked a hell of a lot harder on her face than I ever did. I can’t lie. My looks have a lot of benefits, but the downsides are pretty painful too. The general assumption that I must be a drug-addled nitwit sucks. I’ve been fired more than once because the doctor’s wife didn’t want me around, not to mention the ice cubes to the face, threatening phone calls from women I didn’t even know, and, of course, the stalkers.
 

“I meant that as a compliment,” said Nina.
 

“I know you did. It’s just that I didn’t have a choice.”
 

“And I did. Turning into Marilyn opened doors for me that were firmly closed before. The breasts, the lips they sold me and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. After all I got Mickey out of it.”

I must’ve made a face because she laughed again. “I know he has a reputation. Try to remember he’s a public figure, a rock star. There’s a formula for that kind of success and it doesn’t include fidelity.”
 

“So he cheats on you for his career?” I asked.

The lift went over the last rise and the top was in sight. We lifted the safety bar and I felt a twinge of fear. Hopefully she wasn’t lulling me into letting down my guard.
 

“If you’re going to work for us, I’ll let you in on a secret,” said Nina.
 

I lifted my tips for the dropoff. “I didn’t say I would.”

Our skis touched the hill and the chair gently booted us off. Unlike my trip with Uncle Morty and the nerd posse, the exit was smooth and not painful. Nina and I swooped down and to the left toward the Coppertone. One of the bodyguards met us and Nina introduced him as Bobby the bruiser. I couldn’t think of a more apt name. Bobby was nearly as wide as he was tall. His hands were so huge, they completely covered the grips of his ski poles. He was the toughest guy I’d ever seen, except for one thing. Bobby was sweating like a whore in church as Grandma George would say.
 

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Oh yeah,” said Bobby with an I’m-gonna-barf voice. “I’m good.”
 

I sidestepped to him and took his hand, sliding up his puffy sleeve to reveal his clammy wrist.
 

“What are you doing?” he asked.
 

“I’m a nurse. I’m going to check your pulse.”
 

“You’re a nurse?”
 

“Shocking, I know,” I said.
 

Bobby cocked his head to the side and said in what I presume was supposed to be his sexy voice, “You can take my temperature anytime.”
 

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Nina had no such restraint. She belly-laughed with a husky gaffaw. No Marilyn breathlessness there.
 

“What?” asked Bobby.
 

I took out my phone and set the time for a minute. “Well, I’ve been hit on quite a bit, but never by a guy that looks like he’s about to barf and/or pass out. Now be quiet for a minute.”
 

As I suspected Bobby’s pulse was crazy high at 162 bpm.
 

“We need to send you down on the lift,” I said.
 

“No way. Mickey said I have to look out for Nina,” said Bobby. The hard flush coming up over his cheeks was not a good sign.
 

“How many times have you been skiing?”

He flashed a rabbity look at Nina. “I can ski.”

Nina sighed and patted his back. “That’s what you put on your application, but that’s not true, is it?”
 

“I…I…”

I put my phone away and pulled down his sleeve. “You have the flu.”
 

“What?” he asked.
 

“You have the flu. I’m a nurse and I say so. You have to go down on the lift or else.”
 

“I can’t. He’ll fire me. I need this job. I can’t do anything else.”
 

Nina patted him again. “I doubt that, but don’t worry about it. I’ll handle Mickey. You’ve been around long enough to know who’s really in charge, right?”
 

“You, but this is different. Mickey worries about you all the time.”
 

“Mickey worries about everything. I’m the boss of this outfit and I say go down the lift and get into bed. Preferably alone. We have to make it look good.”
 

“Okay,” said Bobby and his knees wobbled.
 

I poled up to the lift and told the lift guy that we had a sick skier. We got Bobby who was looking slightly better up onto a chair after the lift had been stopped. Nina instructed him to avoid the band and go straight to bed. The lift whisked him away and Nina did a woohoo.
 

“Why are you so happy?” I asked.
 

“Freedom! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to ditch the muscle. I want to ski like I’m a regular person. It’s you and me, Mercy. Let’s get while the gettin’s good.”
 

“I’m with you,” I said. “Lead on.”
 

Nina zipped away down Highpoint with me right behind. Then she hung a right on I-Dropper. Oh crap! If I remembered correctly I-Dropper was full of moguls. This was going to be interesting.
 

Chapter Twelve

I-Dropper just about took what was left of my legs, but Nina was so happy, when we reached the bottom I couldn’t say no to another run and another. We managed to avoid DBD by taking runs Nina knew they wouldn’t. We started taking the American Eagle lift because Mickey and the group couldn’t handle blues. I could barely handle them at that point, but I was having so much fun, I figured I’d just spend extra time in the hot tub to make up for it. And I was young enough to think that would actually work.
 

Nina headed for Bouncer, which is the way it sounds, very bouncy. I wished I’d worn a second sports bra. Nina loved tree skiing, so we wove in and out of the trees through the deep powder, laughing and calling each other out for crappy turns. We were criss-crossing each other, in and out. Then Nina was ahead. She did a sharp turn back toward the main trail. I lost sight of her as she went behind a thick stand of trees. There was a piercing scream. I cut to the right and caught a flash of a snowboarder wearing black disappearing down Bouncer.
 

Nina lay on the trail next to a large tree in a heap, gasping and clutching her shoulder. I skittered to a stop next to her.
 

“Oh my god, Nina. Look at me. Did you hit that tree?” I asked.

“He didn’t stop,” she said between clenched teeth.
 

I glanced down the trail. No sign of the snowboarder.
 

“Did he hit you?”

She nodded.

“And you hit the tree?”

“Uh huh.”
 

Two seconds later Fergus was at my elbow. “What happened?” he asked. “Do you need help?”

“We need patrol,” I said.

Fergus called while I laid Nina back on the snow and assessed her.

Nina’s eyes were focused and she could track my finger. No double vision or nausea. She did have a headache and no wonder, her helmet had a long crack in it. I unzipped her coat and saw the cover of one of Uncle Morty’s books printed on her tee. It’s weird when two separate parts of your life touch each other and it took me back for a split second. But I recovered quickly and felt her shoulder. Dislocated by the feel of it.
 

“Okay,” I said. “We’re going to get you to the hospital. You’ve probably dislocated your shoulder from the impact with the tree and you got a pretty good crack on the head.”
 

“Mickey spent a fortune on this helmet. I thought it was a waste of money.” She smiled between grimaces. “Messes up my hair.”
 

“I’m with Mickey on this one.”

“Me as well,” said Fergus. “I have some scotch, my family’s label. Would you like some?”
 

“Very much,” said Nina.
 

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t want alcohol in your system when they give you the painkillers. Best to be on the safe side.”

“I knew you were going to say that.”
 

Two ski patrol guys showed up within five minutes, Eddy and Cam.
 

“Holy shit. It’s you two again,” said Eddy. “What is up with you?”
 

“What’s he talking about?” asked Nina.
 

“My friend broke his wrist yesterday. Snowboarding without a license.”
 

“That’ll do it,” she said.

I gave Cam and Eddy my opinion, but they assessed for themselves. Nina yelped as Cam felt her shoulder and squinted when Eddy penlighted her pupils.
 

“Was that necessary?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” said Cam. “She’s not patrol.”
 

Nina’s beautifully lipsticked lips puckered.
 

“He outranks me and that’s fine,” I said.
 

Eddy and Cam carefully put Nina in the sled and secured her.
 

“Are you coming?” she asked me.
 

“Absolutely.”
 

“Me, too,” said Fergus.
 

I clipped back into my skis and poked him with my pole. “Which brings me to why you’re here? Are you following me again.”
 

“Of course. I’m helping like last night in the condo.”
 

I’d forgotten about Fergus helping me out of the condo so I could interview Lyndsay and company.
 

“That’s right. You did good. How come I never noticed you today?”
 

“You weren’t looking.”
 

“That’s right. I wasn’t looking,” I said, slowly. “But you were.”
 

Cam and Eddy looked up from their buckling.
 

“What are you getting at?” asked Cam.
 

“I’m not sure yet. Fergus, you were watching me like always?”

“I’m very vigilant,” he said.

“So you were right behind us on the trail. Did you see who hit Nina?”
 

“There was a collision?” asked Eddy, looking around. “Where’s the other one?”
 

“I saw it,” said Fergus, frowning. “I was going to tell you at the bottom.”

“Tell us now, but make it quick,” said Cam, putting on the harness to pull the sled down.
 

“A snowboarder hit her. It was on purpose.”
 

Cam nodded and skied off with Nina. Eddy stayed with me and Fergus.
 

“What did he look like?” asked Eddy.
 

“Small, not much bigger than me, wearing all black. I didn’t see the face. He had his hood up. The bottom of his snowboard was blood red. I saw it when he turned.”

“How do you know it was on purpose?” I asked.