Snow Blind Page 9

  And then he had disappeared.

  She’d wondered if she was looking at the murderer. Had he come back to the scene of the crime? Who was he? A witness? Had she actually seen anything at all?

  After the embarrassing disbelieving response she’d gotten when she witnessed the attack through the hotel window, Sasha hadn’t wanted to make a mistake. She didn’t want to be the girl who cried wolf when there was nothing there.

  That was her reason for opening the door to the SUV and stepping into the snow at the edge of the road. In the back of her mind, she’d heard Brady’s voice telling her to keep the doors locked and to stay out of trouble. But it wasn’t as though she’d been planning to run off and get lost. As long as she stayed fairly close to the SUV, she ought to be okay.

  She’d gone around the front of the state patrol car in the opposite direction from where Brady and the two officers had been talking to two elderly people who resembled garden gnomes. Squinting against the sunlight reflected off the snow, she’d tried to see the shadowy figure again. If she didn’t see him, she’d run back to the SUV and hop inside and Brady would never know that she’d disobeyed his instructions.

  When she’d spotted him again, the state patrolman had been escorting the gnomes into the back of his vehicle. Instead of addressing the patrolman and possibly spooking the shadow man, she’d darted across the road and hidden behind a granite boulder. At that point, it had occurred to her that if she was looking at the killer, she might be in danger.

  Using her cell phone, she’d called Brady. He hadn’t answered, and the shadow man had been moving farther away from where she stood. Sasha had made the decision to follow him and find out where he was going. If she kept a distance between herself and him, she ought to be safe. And if he suddenly turned and came toward her, she could always yell for help.

  She’d gone around one twist in the road and then another. Still close enough to see Brady’s SUV, she moved cautiously forward, trying to see the man in black. The wind had died, and the forest had gone still. There was no movement, not even the shifting of branches. The shadow man was gone.

  There had been a whir as an engine started up. Not a motorcycle in this much snow—it was probably one of those all-terrain vehicles. Should she try to follow him? Would he come back in this direction?

  “Sasha!”

  She heard Brady call her name and turned toward the sound. Chasing after a shadow made no sense, especially if he’d taken off on an ATV. She jogged back down the road to where Brady stood beside his SUV. He looked worn-out and tired. His mouth pulled into an angry scowl with no sign of dimples.

  Immediately, she regretted causing him to worry. “I’m sorry.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I thought I saw someone sneaking around in the forest, and I got out of the SUV to get a better look.”

  “Why?”

  “I was trying to be helpful. I thought maybe this guy was a witness.”

  “Or the killer,” Brady said coldly. “You put yourself in danger.”

  “No, I didn’t.” She’d been cautious. “I kept my distance. If he’d come toward me, I would have had plenty of time to run back to the car.”

  “What if he’d had a gun? Tell me how you were planning to outrun a bullet.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be armed. If this was the killer, he’d used a knife to attack the black-haired woman, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a gun. “I thought about the danger,” she said. “That’s when I called you, and you didn’t answer.”

  “Because I trusted you to stay in the car,” he said. “I don’t understand. One minute you’re scared. The next you’re tracking down the killer.”

  “Yesterday I witnessed an attack and nobody believed me. I didn’t want to go through that again. That’s why I went after him. I wanted to be sure. Can you understand that?”

  “Barely.”

  She reached toward him. When he didn’t respond, she dropped her hand to her side. “For what it’s worth, he was headed in that direction and I heard an engine starting up.”

  “A car engine?”

  “More like a motorcycle,” she said. “Like an ATV.”

  A siren blared, and red-and-blue lights flashed as another SUV from the sheriff’s department joined them. She counted five vehicles. The road was blocked in both directions.

  Sasha had the distinct feeling that she didn’t belong here. These law enforcement guys had their jobs to do, and she was in the way. Without another word, she walked past Brady on her way to his SUV, where she would sit inside with the windows rolled up like a good little golden retriever. When she came even with him, he caught her arm and leaned close to talk to her.

  “I believe you. Again, I believe you saw a man and heard an engine.”

  When she turned her head, her face was only inches away from his. She wished with all her heart that she could be someone he trusted. “You’re the only one.”

  “When I saw that you weren’t in the car, I was scared.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “If anything bad had happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

  She wanted to lean a little closer and brush her lips across his. A kiss—even a quick kiss—wasn’t acceptable behavior, but she couldn’t help the yearning that was building inside her. “Do you want me to go back to the car?”

  “I want you where I can see you. Stay with me.”

  She positioned herself beside him and put on her best attitude. At the firm, she was accustomed to meeting all kinds of big shots, shaking hands and then quietly fading into the wallpaper.

  Brady introduced her to Sheriff Ted McKinley, an average-sized guy with a bit of a paunch, slouchy shoulders and a thin face. He shook her hand and gave her a grin. At least, she thought he was smiling. His bushy mustache made it hard to tell. “You’re the little lady who caused all this trouble.”

  “All I did was call 911,” she said.

  “Well, you sure got Deputy Ellis all fired up.”

  He clapped Brady on the shoulder. Though the two men weren’t openly hostile, she could tell they didn’t like each other. Brady had a cool, easy confidence. In spite of his less-than-official uniform, he was every inch a deputy—the man you’d want to have around in a crisis. By contrast, the sheriff, who wore regulation clothes from head to toe, seemed unsure of himself. He had a nervous habit of smoothing his mustache.

  Brady got right down to business. “The body resembles the woman in the driver’s license photo, Lauren Robbins. Is there any more information on her?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Did you assign anybody to do that background research?”

  The sheriff pulled on his mustache. “Are you telling me how to do my job?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I wanted more to go on before I started a full-scale investigation. My resources are limited. You know that.”

  Brady’s jaw tensed. She could tell that he was holding back his anger. If she’d been in his position, she would have lashed out. The sheriff’s reluctance to act was causing them to waste time.

  “How long,” Brady asked, “before we have an ID on the dead body?”

  “Not long.” The sheriff glanced toward the edge of the road where other deputies were climbing down the slope. “We’re using that mobile fingerprint scanner so we can confirm her identity real quick.”

  “Is that equipment working?”

  “It’s pretty handy.” He scowled. “Did you talk to the couple who found the body?”

  Brady nodded. “The state patrol took their statement.”

  Another vehicle pulled up, and the sheriff grumbled, “Look at this mess! And it’s only going to get worse. You know what they say about too many cooks.”

  “They spoil the broth,” Sasha said. She understood how t
he sheriff might be frustrated and would have felt sorry for him, but this wasn’t a cooking class; it was a murder. He needed to take charge.

  “I knew something like this would happen when the new ski lodge was built,” he said. “I told your uncle Dooley.”

  “I know,” Brady said.

  “We used to have a nice quiet little county. Crime rate was next to nothing. Now we’ve got ourselves a damn murder.”

  She could tell from the annoyed look on Brady’s face that he’d heard this story before. He asked, “Sheriff, what do you want me to do?”

  “Hold tight for a couple of minutes. We’re waiting for the coroner. The state police are going to loan us some expert forensic investigators. And I’ve already contacted mountain rescue so they can bring the steamer trunk up in a rescue basket. It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it? Stuffing a body inside a piece of luggage?”

  He looked to Sasha for a response, and she nodded. “It’s awful.”

  “You work for Damien Loughlin, don’t you?”

  Another nod.

  “Well, you can tell him not to worry. We’ve got everything under control.”

  Or not. In her view, the situation at the crime scene was teetering on the brink of chaos.

  Brady stepped forward. “If you don’t mind, Sheriff, I’d like to follow up on another lead. I thought I heard an ATV starting up. Maybe I can follow the tracks and find a witness.”

  “You go right ahead.” The sheriff sounded relieved. “There’s nothing for you to do here but stand around and watch.”

  Brady wasted no time before directing her to his SUV. It took some maneuvering to separate his vehicle from the others, but they were on their way in a few minutes, and she was glad to leave the crime scene in their rearview mirror.

  The state patrolmen, the deputies, the sirens and the flashing lights created a wall of confusion between her and the truth. A woman had died in a horrible way. Like it or not, Sasha was part of that death. She needed to make sense of the terrible thing that had happened, to fit that piece into the puzzle of her life.

  Alone with Brady, her mind cleared. She relaxed, safe in the belief that he would protect her.

  “Sheriff McKinley seems...overwhelmed,” she said.

  “But he’s still coming up with cutesy sayings about too many cooks spoiling the broth.”

  “How did a man like that get to be sheriff?”

  “It’s an elected position, and he’s a nice guy, so people vote for him. Being sheriff used to be easy. McKinley spent most of his day sitting behind his desk with his feet up. The Arcadia development changed all that.”

  “Is he capable of investigating a murder?” she asked.

  “He’s got as much experience as any of us. Which is to say—none.”

  She found it hard to believe that Brady had never done anything like this before. Last night he had approached people with an unshakable attitude of authority. He’d asked the right questions and looked for evidence.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Would you want to be sheriff?”

  “I want to keep things safe.” He pulled over to the edge of the road. “Is this the area where you heard the engine?”

  She pointed to the left side of the road, the opposite side from where the body was found. The snow-covered land rose in a gentle slope with ridges of boulders and scraggly stands of pine trees. In her business suit and boots with chunky heels, she wasn’t dressed to go tromping around the mountains. “Do we have to hike up there and look around?”

  “If I was a real homicide detective, I’d send six forensic experts to comb the hill for clues and track down that ATV. I’d have a suspect in custody before the day was over.”

  “But all you’ve got is me.”

  “And it doesn’t seem worth the effort to search the whole mountain for a track that may or may not have been left by the guy you saw.” He slipped the SUV into gear. “There’s a dude ranch not far from here, and they’ve got several ATVs. Let’s start there.”

  “Good plan,” she said gratefully. She didn’t want to do too much unnecessary hiking in these boots.

  “The old man who owns the dude ranch is buddies with my uncle.”

  “Is he in favor of the ski resort development or opposed?”

  “He’s prodevelopment.” He glanced toward her. “Seems like you’ve caught the gist of our local politics.”

  “It’s hard to miss.”

  “Most people in Arcadia are glad to have the new opportunities and the employment, but there are many—like the sheriff—who think the ski resort is nothing but trouble.”

  “Change is hard,” she said.

  “But necessary. Slow waters turn stagnant.”

  He drove out of the forest into a wide snow-covered valley surrounded by forested hills and rocky cliffs. In the distance, a spiral of smoke rose from the chimneys of a two-story log house with a barn and other outbuildings. Several horses paced along the fence line in a field.

  Though she spotted two ATVs racing across the meadow, she forgot about the investigation for a moment. These mountains took her breath away. She was, after all, a city girl. Being here was like visiting another world. “It’s beautiful.”

  “I used to come to the dude ranch all the time when I was a kid to help out with the horses.” He cranked the steering wheel and made a quick right turn onto a single-lane dirt road. “I want to show you something.”

  When the SUV turned again, she didn’t see anything resembling a road. The tires bumped across a stretch of field, and she bounced in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”

  “This area is dotted with hot springs and artesian pools.” He parked at the foot of a cliff, flipped open the glove compartment and took out a flashlight. “I’m taking you to a place I used to go as a kid. A cave.”

  She jumped from the vehicle and chased after him as he hiked up a narrow path. Afternoon sunlight glared against the face of this rocky hillside, and the snow was almost entirely melted. Even in her chunky-heeled boots, she was able to keep up with him.

  This little detour was totally unexpected. A cave? Until now Brady had been straightforward and purposeful. Though she loved a surprise, she asked, “Why are we going to a cave?”

  He turned to face her. “I need to catch my breath.”

  “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “There’s a lot going on. I need to slow down so I can think.” He pointed to a dark shadow against the rock face. “This is the entrance.”

  When she looked closer, she saw a narrow slit that was only as high as her shoulders. If she hadn’t been standing right beside it, she wouldn’t have noticed the entrance. She looked up at his broad chest. “How are you going to fit in there?”

  “Carefully.” He ducked down, took off his hat and turned on the flashlight.

  After she wedged herself through the entry, she felt his hand on her arm as he pulled her forward and halted. With the flashlight beam, he swept the walls of a small chamber with a rock floor. The ceiling was just high enough for him to stand upright. The air was thick and moist...and warmer than outside. “Is this a hot spring?”

  “Not hardly. The temperature in here is a steady fifty-three degrees, summer and winter.” He guided her forward. “Be careful where you step. The footing is uneven.”

  He led her through the first chamber into a second room that was longer. The flashlight beam played across the wall and landed on a jagged row of stalagmites rising from the floor in weird milky formations. Other stones dripped down from the ceiling.

  “It looks like teeth,” she said, “like the teeth of a giant prehistoric monster.”

  “Listen,” he said.

  She cocked her ears and heard nothing but the beating of her own heart. “Perfect silence.”

  “H
old on to me.” He wrapped his arm around her. “I’m going to turn off the flashlight.”

  She slipped her hand inside his jacket and pressed against him. Absolute darkness wrapped around them.

  Chapter Ten

  With the impenetrable darkness came a sense of disorientation. Brady held Sasha close to him. Though the interior of the cave was utterly black, he closed his eyes. He’d never practiced meditation, but he suspected it was something like this. An emptiness. A feeling of being suspended in space, not knowing which way was up and which was down.

  Breathing slowly, he tried to rid his mind of chaos and confusion. Specifically, he wanted to erase the image of the dead woman stuffed inside the trunk.

  “Brady?” Sasha’s sweet voice called to him. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, not wanting to alarm her.

  There had been so much blood. Her pristine white jumpsuit had been soaked with it. Her lips were gray. Her cheeks sunken. Her eyes dull and vacant. The fingernails on one hand were broken. Had she been alive when he forced her into the trunk? Had she struggled?

  He held Sasha tighter, absorbing the gentle warmth that radiated from her. Her arms were inside his jacket, embracing him. He leaned down and inhaled the ripe peach fragrance of her shampoo.

  “You’re so quiet,” she said.

  “Thinking.” He couldn’t release the image of death. Maybe he wasn’t meant to forget. Maybe he needed to be reminded, to keep that memory fresh throughout the investigation.

  “Would you mind turning on the flashlight while you think?” she asked. “The dark is kind of creeping me out.”

  He turned on the light. In the glow, he looked down at her delicate features, her wide blue eyes and her rose-petal lips. Before the intention had fully formed in his mind, he was kissing those lips.

  Her slender body nestled against him just the way he had imagined it would. Even through layers of clothing, they fit together perfectly. He glided his free hand around her throat to the nape of her neck, where his fingers tangled in her silky hair. He tasted her mouth again. So sweet.