Powdered Murder
Authors: A. Gardner
POWDERED MURDER
A Bison Creek Mystery
A. Gardner
Copyright © 2015 by A. Gardner
Cover design by Yocla Designs
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
He was never my lover and he wasn't my ex, but when I saw him standing in the great room my heart jumped. A lump that was difficult to swallow formed in my throat, and my chest started pounding as if I'd drunk too many espressos. I paused in the doorway marked
Staff Only
,
and prolonged my trip through the hotel lobby by staring out a foggy window at the soft, fluffy snowflakes outside.
The calm before the storm.
"Get it together, Essie." My little sister Joy nudged me on the shoulder, breaking my train of thought.
"I think Hell just froze over," I muttered, staring at a man I never thought I would have to see or talk to again.
Patrick.
"If that's true then we're
living
in Hell." Joy chuckled to herself, and glanced out the window. It was a snowy morning in the Rockies. The kind that starts out with an innocent dusting of flurries and later turns into a murderous snowstorm.
"What is he doing here?" I whispered.
Joy was all too aware of my feelings for Patrick.
Old
feelings. It started back in first grade when my mom babysat him after school. We would build snow forts in the backyard until our fingers felt like ice blocks. Moving to the touristy mountain town of Bison Creek from a scorching hot state like Alabama, naturally Patrick had a slight obsession with snow back then.
"You need to get over him," Joy said. Joy is anything but joyous. In fact, spending more than a few hours with her would make anyone's blood boil. She attracts drama like flies to a honey stick. "Your little childhood crush is making you look like one of those zombie chicks from last year's Halloween parade. Essie, you're a thirty-five year old woman."
"I'm thirty
one
," I corrected her. "And I would appreciate it if you round
down
instead of up."
"Whatever." She gripped her clipboard tighter as she looked in Patrick's direction. "My point is that times have changed. You're the best fitness trainer in town, and you condition your hair now."
"Thanks." I narrowed my eyes and acted as if she meant it as a compliment.
"They all checked in last night, except for Patrick who is staying with his parents of course. Now go and congratulate them like a normal person." Joy tugged at her long-sleeved blouse that hid the tattoos on her forearm. It was tucked into a black pencil skirt she'd taken from my
closet.
"Who checked in?" I asked. "Congratulate who for what?"
"You haven't figured it out by now?" She raised her eyebrows and looked me up and down. "I'm surprised. You notice everything about everyone."
I glanced back at Patrick who was attempting to calm a very hysterical woman wearing leather leggings. The woman's face looked familiar. I had seen those duck-like lips and sunken cheeks a few times before on TV, but it hadn't occurred to me until now that she was Lila Clemton, the model turned actress. Her line of environmentally-friendly lipsticks had sold out in record breaking time when they'd hit the shelves. I actually bought one of her lip glosses solely because the color was called
caramelized quinoa,
and applying it to my lips made me laugh.
My eyes darted to Joy's clipboard and sincere smile. She was Pinecliffe Mountain Resort's Assistant Event Coordinator in charge of all events at the moment since the Head Coordinator left to take a better paying position in Denver.
"He's engaged, isn't he?" My stomach sank as soon as I said it.
"Oh, he's more than that," she chuckled. "They're here for the biggest thing that has ever happened in this town. A secret celebrity wedding. If I nail this account, Essie, do you know what this means?"
"More clients?" I guessed.
"A promotion." Joy smiled. Only work could get her to smile like that. "I would be the Head Event Coordinator at the poshest ski resort in all the Rockies. Okay fine, more like the
tenth
poshest ski resort in all the Rockies. Do you have any idea how many more weddings we will book after this one surfaces in the tabloids?"
"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you." I took a step back, thinking about slipping pass the stone fireplace with the waitressing staff. I didn't want to start my morning off with an uncomfortable blast from the past.
The last time I saw Patrick Jaye, I was a completely different person. I was shy and I always wore my hair back in a ponytail because I hated the way it frizzed around my face. Back then, I spent most of my free time loitering near the slopes at Pinecliffe mountain, but not because I skied or snowboarded. Patrick did. Up until I graduated from high school I'd never even stood on a snowboard. It was difficult to imagine myself dodging baby evergreens and bending my knees just in time to land a jump when I was thirty pounds heavier.
Patrick was the best snowboarder in the entire county. So when he medaled in the Winter X Games and received his first sponsorship deal at the age of sixteen, no one was surprised. He quickly became Mayor Millbreck's golden boy, and the whole town normally buzzed with excitement before he made one of his rare pass-throughs to see his parents.
Not this time.
"Come on." Joy pulled my arm, forcing me to walk with her to meet the happy couple. "Let him see that tight little--" Patrick's fiancée, in the middle of a rant, cut her off. Thankfully.
"I can't believe she did this to me!" Lila jerked her hand away from Patrick just in time to almost slap me across the face. I leaned back at just the right moment.
"Is everything okay?" Joy asked her. The tone of her voice changed. It was more calm and professional, and unlike the real Joy in every way.
"No, it's not." Lila stamped her foot like an angry toddler. Up close she looked thinner than she appeared in magazines which already portrayed her as stick skinny. Her lips were plump and they stuck out like they were fluffy throw cushions separated by her tongue. "One of my bridesmaids backed out at the last second."
"I am sorry to hear that." Joy nodded sympathetically.
"I can't have only
three
people in the wedding party besides Patrick and myself. My numbers are completely thrown off now. I need an even number or all the photos will look ridiculous." There was a Band-Aid on Lila's pinky finger, but no dried bloodstain on the bandage. She must have been using it to cover up a broken nail or chipped polish.
"Well, maybe we can find someone to replace--"
"No," Lila interrupted her, shaking her head. "The dresses have already been made, and I doubt I can find a girl in time who matches Bev's measurements." She eyed Joy and quickly looked away when her gaze wondered up to the tightly pinned bun on top of her head. Joy is taller than me, and her hips are narrow. Lila's eyes settled on me next. She tilted her head and glanced down at my trim waist, a product of years and years of core exercises and duct taping shut the cookie dough ice cream in my freezer.
"How tall are you?" Lila quickly asked me.
"I'm your average 5'5” last time I checked." My cheeks felt warm as I answered her because she wasn't the only one staring at my physique. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Patrick studying my face. He took a step closer so I could smell his cologne.
Pine.
"Turn around," Lila instructed.
"Excuse me?"
"
Gwenessa
?" Patrick finally stated. I turned and looked him in the eyes for the first time in ten years. My toes curled in my snow boots, and I was pretty sure that my forehead was turning cherry red. My face cringed slightly when he spoke my full name. I didn't start going by Essie until I lost thirty pounds, grew my hair out, and started training clients in the Pinecliffe Mountain Resort's private fitness studio.
Gwenessa is the name my birth mother gave me, though I have never met her. I was adopted when I was a baby, and right after my new parents brought me home they found out they were having Joy. Joy and I aren't blood sisters, but most people in town couldn't tell the difference. Both of us have long, dark hair and a talent for attracting trouble.
Well,
Joy
attracts the trouble.
I'm the one who fixes it.
"She goes by
Essie
now," Joy mentioned.
"Whatever your name is," Lila butted in. She folded her arms, cell phone in hand. "Please, turn around so I can take a better look at you."
I contemplated telling Lila that a request like that should be paired with an appointment at my studio or even a cash tip, but I observed the look on Joy's face. This wedding meant everything to her. Work was her life, and she would probably kill me if I badmouthed the bride when she was in desperate need of a substitute for her missing bridesmaid. I slowly turned around. Not because I wanted to make Lila happy, but because I wanted to prove to Patrick and to myself that I wasn't the girl I once was.
"I don't know." Lila took a deep breath and scratched her porcelain face. Her makeup looked like it had been painted on permanently and not a hair on her head was out of place. Her hair was blonder than Patrick's and she fiddled with the buttons on her cell phone when she was nervous. "Can you dance? I mean, my bridesmaids have been taking lessons from professionals in L.A. for the past couple weeks, so. . . ."
"She can dance," Patrick reassured her. "Can't you?" He gently touched the middle of my back, sending tingles down my spine. He grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers and pulled me towards the stone fireplace near the center of the great room. He twirled me around and as he did, memories came flooding back. Memories of the two of us and the few moments we
did
have together before I'd left for college. When Patrick officially left Bison Creek to pursue his career, I took a good look at myself and realized how weak I'd become.
Patrick stopped noticing me because I brushed passed him at school like a frightened field mouse. I was afraid of saying something stupid, and dying later of embarrassment. But most of all, I was deathly scared of telling him how I felt about him. That I'd had feelings for him since middle school. Judging by the way he moved from girl to girl, starting with Big Boobs Bianca from gym class, I knew he didn't feel the same way. Avoiding him was my way of forcing myself to move on.
