I nodded.
“And now I need a favor from you,” I said.
“Name it.”
“I’d like to take a look at her place.”
Audrey stuck a hand into her purse and pulled out a key ring. She tinkered with it until the shiny silver one broke free.
“1233 Powderhorn Street,” she said, and tossed it to me.
CHAPTER 6
Charlotte Halliwell was a celebrity in Park City. Locals adored her for her athletic achievements and tourists respected her even more for her unyielding and tireless effort in finding them the perfect vacation home of their dreams. Her slogan, you can ski in, but you won’t want to ski out made an impression on people. To prove her death wasn’t an accident wouldn’t be an easy task. But in my line of business just because it walked like a duck and talked like a duck, didn’t make it one, and for the first time in a long while I was faced with something new––a challenge.
The time on my watch displayed a much later hour than I hoped. I sized up my shower for a brief moment, but there was no time for a quickie. I caught my reflection in the mirror. The hair looked decent but the make-up needed a refresher. I fiddled around for a washcloth, washed it off and reapplied, and then made a mad dash for the door.
I arrived at Moll’s Tavern at 7 pm. Right on time. Moll’s was my favorite spot for a late night rendezvous, or an early one on this particular night. I looked around, but there was no sign of Nick who ran on his own time. I waved myself past the hostess and paused to order a drink at the bar before I wandered over to my usual spot.
Moll’s offered two main dining areas, one for family and the other for fun. Tonight fun served up a live band and an open bar. Life was good.
I sat at my favorite table and tried to concentrate on my drink, but all I noticed was the haphazard arrangement of the silverware before me with the spoon to the left of the knife and the salad and dinner forks to the right. I picked up the pieces and reorganized the flatware in its correct position and then reclined back, amazed in the satisfaction that came from a little silverware organization.
“Couldn’t resist, could you?”
I looked up.
“You’re late,” I said.
“No more than usual,” Nick said.
I shot him a wink.
“About ten minutes, but who’s counting.”
He glanced at my martini.
“I see you went ahead,” he said.
I took a sip and held my glass up high.
“Cheers!”
Nick looked handsome tonight. His button-down shirt was tucked into a pair of dark denim jeans which were snug and showed off his toned physique. He had a hint of a five o’clock shadow which complemented his buzz cut. Aside from the lack of a uniform, he looked like he belonged in the military.
“Sloane, how wonderful to see you,” a woman’s voice said.
I shifted my focus to the redhead who stood next to me.
“And you, Claire.”
Claire was somewhere around her mid-fifties and of Irish descent. She had a roundish head which harmonized with the plethora of freckles scattered throughout her body. She wasn’t much taller than the pub table we sat in and entirely stocky.
“How’s the martini?” she said.
“Perfect, as usual. How’s business?”
“Can’t complain,” she said. “Ski season brought me a lot of business this year, thanks to everyone coming in to check out that new resort. You know the one.”
“Wildwood.”
She nodded.
“That’s it. Between the fancy shmancy grand opening and Sundance, I’ve got no complaints.”
“Glad to hear it. We wouldn’t want my favorite place going out of business now would we?”
“Not a chance,” she said. “You want your usual?”
I nodded.
“I’ll tell your waitress,” she said, “if I can find the silly thing. As useful as a lighthouse on a bog, that one.”
“Is anyone interested in what I want at all?” Nick said.
Claire let out a full-bellied laugh and turned around.
“Why Detective Calhoun, I didn’t see you there,” she said.
He rolled his eyes.
“Sure, sure, you ladies finished yet, because I’m here to eat.”
“Aw, someone feels left out.” She patted him on the arm. “Give us girls a minute and we’ll get you all taken care of, alright? Keep your alans on.”
She turned toward me again.
“It was nice to see you Sloane, but I better get back to it.”
She gave Nick a civilized nod when she walked away.
“Detective,” she said.
Nick shrugged.
“What about my drink?” he said.
He sized my martini up from top to bottom like he wanted to frisk it.
I waved over the waitress.
“He’ll have a Bulleit Neat.”
“A bull what?” she said.
My first impressions were seldom wrong, and in this case my instincts told me two things––she was the one Claire referred to earlier, and tonight was sure to be her last.
“Bourbon on the rocks,” I said. “Ask the bartender, he’ll know.”
She still looked confused. I gestured toward Nick.
“And he would like to order,” I said.
Nick placed his order and the waitress headed for the bar.
“Now where were we?” he said.
“Somewhere between OCD and my day, I think.”
“Right,” he said, “tell me about it.”
“You won’t believe––”
“Oh boy. Here we go,” he said.
“I haven’t even come to the good part yet.”
Nick folded his arms and rested them on the edge of the table.
“Better get started then.”
“What do you know about the accident at Wildwood?”
“Same as you, I’m sure. Girl died of blunt force trauma,” he said.
“Her sister Audrey came to see me today.”
“About?” he said.
“The accident, or should I say alleged accident.”
The smile on his face vanished.
“What do you mean alleged?”
“She hired me to look into her sister’s death and find out what happened.”
The waitress returned with Nick’s drink and our salads.
“Another martini?” she said.
I handed her my glass.
Nick took a swig of his drink and swallowed hard.
“We already know what happened,” he said.
“Audrey suspects it might not have been an accident.”
“Let me get this straight. The woman smacks into a tree on a black diamond trail and her sister thinks it wasn’t an accident?”
“You got it.”
“Based on what?” he said.
“The fact that Charlotte Halliwell was an experienced skier. The woman won a silver medal in downhill. And before you chime in, I already know what you’re going to say. That in itself doesn’t prove foul play, and you’re right.”
“You know family members aren’t always in their right mind after losing a loved one,” he said.
“I don’t know what to think. But she’s hired me to look into it so that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t see how it can hurt.”
“You didn’t take this case because of Gabrielle, did you?”
I picked at my salad and tried my best not to stab it.
Nick reached over and wrapped his fingers around my wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
“She was your sister. It isn’t nothing.”
“Maybe, but that’s not why I took the case.”
And that was true, for the most part.
Our dinner arrived.
“Another ummm, drink?” she said to Nick.
He nodded.
Nick cracked his lobster. I sliced and diced my steak. Nick finished his drink. I finished mine.