If I Should Die (46 page)

“What have you learned?”

“First, I need to know who you spoke with when we weren’t together yesterday. You tipped someone off. That’s why they drugged your water.”

“I used to be a damn good cop, Lucy. I didn’t tip anyone off.”

“You acted like a cop investigating a murder. Wouldn’t that be tip-off enough for the killer?”

Patrick still looked ill, and Lucy wanted him to rest. “I spoke to the sheriff,” she said. “The blizzard won’t be letting up soon. He can’t get the coroner here, but he’s working on sending two deputies. There’s no guarantee they’ll be here today.”

“So Steve did talk to the sheriff. Good.” He sipped some of the water Lucy had given him. “I spoke to Kyle and Alan after we moved Vanessa’s body to the root cellar. They were both a little unnerved. Neither seemed to be hiding anything. Kyle was very worried about his wife.”

“She was sitting up with Trevor most of the night in the library. She said she couldn’t sleep.” Lucy remembered the water by the door. “There was a puddle of water on the floor after I woke you up. In fact—it was after I went to the library. I was in there about fifteen minutes.”

“If it was my water that was drugged, they would have had to have done it before that. I took a leak and drank half the bottle after you woke me.”

“Where did you get the bottle?”

“It was in the bathroom when I—” He hesitated. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember it being there when we checked in Thursday night, but it was there last night when I went to bed. I didn’t think about it.”

“When were you out of your room yesterday?”

“All day. We left about nine-thirty to go skiing, came back at four, found Vanessa at five-thirty—I went to my room to change after we moved her body, between seven and seven-ten or so. Then back at eleven.”

“Can you remember if the bottle was there when you changed?”

Patrick closed his eyes, thinking. “No, it wasn’t there.”

“You’re certain.”

“Yes. I brushed my teeth and used a glass for water. When I came back at night and brushed again before bed, the glass was gone.”

“Mom would be so proud of you.”

“What for?”

“You probably flossed, too.”

Patrick threw a pillow at her, then groaned. “I feel like I’ve just been beaten up.”

She sat on the edge of the bed. “You’ll be fine.”
Thank God
. “We were together most of the evening, except when you went to talk to Steve.”

“Steve and I were talking about how his great-grandfather bought this land and built and lived in the cottage. The kid was really upset, but I felt it had less to do with Marsh’s death and more to do with his physical health.”

“Did you see either Grace or Beth?”

“I didn’t see Grace after Kyle collapsed in the kitchen. Beth was talking to Trevor and Angie later in the evening, but I didn’t talk to her alone.”

Lucy straightened her back as something occurred to her. “Kyle said he was dizzy.”

“Yes. Altitude sickness.”

“I doubt it. He broke a glass, remember? It was juice. Steve was drinking orange juice from a carton yesterday.”

“You think the juice went bad? Or—” Realization dawned on Patrick. “You think they were drugged.”

“I read a letter Steve’s father left him in his will. It was written two years ago, when Steve was eighteen, and Leo said there was plenty of money to support this property, even during the lean years. That was his exact quote. I think Steve believes his dad lied to him.”

“In a will?”

“Yes, but I don’t believe he lied. I think there was money. Beth was a bank manager before she came here, and she’s the one who mentioned that Leo had spent all the emergency funds.”

“You think she stole the money? Why?”

“This property is worth a small fortune, at least I’m guessing it is. It’s close to the ski resort, it’s in its own little valley, and has its own road. With no mortgage, it’s owned free and clear. But if there’s no money to keep it going or to expand—which according to Steve was his father’s dream—then they would have to sell.”

“And how does that benefit Beth?”

“I don’t know that it does, but we don’t know how much money was in the accounts in the first place.”

“If she’s guilty, we can’t ask her.”

“But we can find the books.”

“Lucy—”

“I know what to look for. Beth has her room off the kitchen. I’ll get Angie to keep her occupied.”

“You trust Angie?”

“Yes, but I’m not going to tell her why.”

“I’ll do it.” Patrick tried to stand, but fell right to his knees. His skin paled.

“Or not.” Lucy helped him back into bed. “Patrick, you stay here. My plan is contingent on the killer thinking that you’re too sick to investigate and we’re just waiting for the sheriff to come for Vanessa’s body.”

“Lucy—you need to be careful.”

“I promise.”

“Why would Beth drug Steve?”

“I don’t know. Maybe to distract him—or Grace—from her embezzlement.” She frowned.

“Okay, spit it out.”

“I don’t know. It’s Grace, too. She was really angry about the spilled juice.”

“When Kyle fell?”

“Yes. It seemed … over the top.”

“It’s a stressful time,” Patrick pointed out. “A dead guest, her sick stepson, then another guest fainting.”

“You’re probably right.”

“But Luce—trust your instincts. Please. Don’t trust anyone. My gun is in my truck. I didn’t think I’d need it, but I want you to get it. If it’s safe to go for it.”

“Where? Under the seat?”

“Yes. I have a holster strapped to the underside. It’s loaded. Extra bullets are in the glove compartment. It’s a forty-five; are you comfortable with that?”

She smiled. “Jack taught me everything I know about guns.” Jack was their oldest brother and retired Army.

Patrick rolled his eyes. “I thought I gave you some good lessons.”

“You did. But you know Jack. Repetition.”

“Yeah, don’t I?”

Lucy wanted to check out Grace’s and Steve’s rooms as well. They were in the cottage, and that was on the way to Patrick’s truck.

“What?” Patrick read her expression and snapped. “You’re thinking about doing something you know I won’t like.”

“You’re right.”

He paused. “Well?”

“You won’t like it.” She stood. “Stay here and be sick. If anyone comes, moan. If anyone offers you food, don’t eat it. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Lucy, wait—” He sat up, but became immediately queasy and lay back down.

“Trust me,” she said and left.

Beth had just put out a small breakfast buffet. She looked like she hadn’t gotten any sleep. “How are you doing?” Lucy asked.

“I’m worried about Grace. This has been so hard on her. And Steve—the poor kid. I don’t know how to make it better, and it’s killing me.”

“My brother woke up sick this morning.”

“Sick? Like a cold?”

“Like puking-his-guts-out sick. I cleaned up after him, but I was hoping to get some ice and a little juice or something.”

“Of course.”

Lucy followed Beth into the kitchen. Angie was there, as Lucy had prearranged.

“Oh, good,” Angie said to Beth. “I was hoping you could help me with Trevor. He went up to the extra room, but he’s hungover and distraught and I don’t know what to do. Kyle is no help, he doesn’t know what to say, and you were so good with Trevor last night.”

Beth said, “I have the perfect hangover remedy.” She started gathering supplies, then turned to Lucy.

“Oh, let’s take care of Patrick first.”

“I can do it. You talk to Trevor. I’ll bring juice to my brother. Maybe some chicken broth?”

“In the pantry. I can prepare something for you.”

“No, really, it’s okay. I need something to do anyway; I’m going stir-crazy.”

Less than two minutes later, Angie and Beth left with a tray for Trevor. As soon as Lucy heard them on the stairs, she slipped into Beth’s bedroom.

It was a suite, with two rooms and its own bath. Beth was tidy—her bed was made, her dirty clothes in a hamper, her furniture arranged just so. Careful to leave everything exactly as she’d found it, Lucy quickly searched Beth’s room for anything that would connect her to embezzlement or drugging Steve. Beth didn’t have a computer in her bedroom, which meant that the books were kept either on the office computer or in the cottage.

She did find a box of letters to Beth from a man named Andrew Simon, Corporal, U.S. Army. They were all sent from an APO address in Afghanistan. Ten letters, written in the months she’d been living here. She had a P.O. box in Kit Carson, which Lucy recognized was the same address that the lodge used. Would she use the same address if she was hiding something? Or would she have opened her own post office box?

Lucy opened the most recent letter, dated three weeks ago.

Dearest Beth
,

Our last letters must have crossed in the air, now I understand better why you need to help your sister. Of course family is the most important thing
,
and I’m so happy that you’ve become so close to your sister after everything that happened when you were kids. I love you more for your devotion. It was my selfishness to want you closer during my rare leaves, so we can be together
.

The Delarosa sounds like exactly what I need when I get out in August. I had planned on reenlisting, but knowing you are waiting for me, three years for my country is enough. I can’t tell you how I feel when I get a letter from you. I am counting the days, and will write when I have my final discharge papers. I wish we could email like we did before you moved to your sister’s, but I reread your letters every night. Keep them coming, love
.

I’m so sorry the lodge finances are in such dire straits. If anyone can turn it around, it’s you. Steve sounds like a smart, determined young man. I look forward to meeting him
.

I hope you can convince your sister not to sell, at least before I can spend a week or ten making love to you in paradise
.

The picture is me and my squad before we went out on recon two weeks ago. Buddy didn’t make it back. He’s the one in the Jeep. He was a damn good man
.

Love you, Beth, with everything I am
.

Andy

Lucy looked at the picture, and her eyes immediately went to Buddy in the Jeep. Her dad was working on base by the time she was born, and her oldest brother, Jack, had enlisted when she was still a toddler. She knew what these men went through.

Was the fact that Beth was dating a soldier clouding her judgment? Lucy hoped not, but she hadn’t found anything in Beth’s room to indicate that she was embezzling money.

Lucy carefully put the letter back exactly as she’d found it and the box on its shelf, next to a framed photo of a man in uniform that had to be Andy. She went through the bottom drawer of Beth’s desk and found bank statements. Up until last April, she’d had deposits of a little over five thousand dollars a month. Since April, she’d made small monthly deposits of fifteen hundred dollars. Unemployment? Rent checks? Did her sister pay her a salary?

Beth hadn’t withdrawn much money, either—she had a balance of just over nine thousand in her checking account, about the same in her savings, and two CDs of ten thousand dollars each, maturing at different times, both purchased before she’d moved here.

Suddenly, Lucy felt guilty for poring over Beth’s finances. There was nothing here to show that Beth had been stealing. She put everything back and would have left, but someone was in the kitchen.

Steve and Grace.

Heart thudding, she eavesdropped.

“Please, Steve, don’t do this. Your health is more important to me than anything.”

“I need to. On Monday I’m going to Jackson and getting a mortgage. I need you to sign with me.”

“You’ll be in debt for the rest of your life. You’ll put yourself in an early grave. I can’t go through that again. Not what I went through with your father. Him dying in my arms because we couldn’t get him to the hospital fast enough.”

“Please, don’t—”

“We can sell. That will solve all our financial problems.”

“I’m not selling!”

“Beth, tell Steve that a mortgage isn’t the solution.”

Beth must have stepped into the kitchen, or had been silent at first. “Actually, I’ve been thinking it might be a good option. Not a large mortgage, but ten percent would be more than enough to replenish the emergency funds. I’ll stay here, at least another year, and work out a budget and growth plan. It’s my forte.”

“But it’s not about the lodge, it’s about Steve!” Grace said. “His health.”

“You need to go to the doctor, Steve,” said Beth. “I’ll help you with the mortgage papers—we’ll go to my old boss, he’ll find us a good program. But then you have to promise to go in for the tests.”

“All right,” Steve agreed.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Grace said.

“It’s a win-win,” Beth said. “Steve gets what he wants, you get what you want. Steve, can you help me clean up the guest rooms?”

“Sure. Thanks, Beth.”

“You’ve grown on me. I want you happy and I want you healthy. Okay?”

Lucy didn’t know if Grace had left, and she couldn’t open the door to check. Though she wasn’t dressed for the weather, she went out the side door and walked around the porch to the front door. The snow was still falling, but didn’t seem as severe as earlier this morning. Drifts had accumulated against the porch and she couldn’t see the stairs. She shivered and tried the front door, but it was locked.

Dammit
, this wasn’t a smart idea. She knocked, getting colder by the second. She knocked again and the door swung open.

Grace said, “What are you doing outside dressed like that?”

“I stepped out to get fresh air and must have locked the door, or someone else did. I was only out here for a few minutes.”

She shook off in the foyer, feeling like a wet dog, her long hair already damp against her cheeks. She tucked it behind her ears. “Thanks,” she added when Grace didn’t say anything.