years .
I hope you never have to read this letter. I’m going to tear it up when you’re twenty-one and write a new one. But in case I’m too stubborn or stupid to remember to say it, I want you to know, son, I love you .
Dad .
Lucy read the letter twice, tears in her eyes. No wonder Steve was so heartbroken over the debt …
Would Leo have told his son in a letter that wouldn’t be read until his death that the mountain was debt free and there was a nest egg to run the place “during the lean years”?
Did that sound like a man who had been running in the red for years?
Someone had lied.
Either Leo Delarosa lied about the nest egg—though Lucy couldn’t imagine why he’d do it in a letter that wouldn’t be read until he was dead—or the nest egg had been stolen.
Or it was hidden somewhere.
She scanned Leo Delarosa’s will. It appeared standard, and showed the amendment where Steve and Grace would have to agree to sell.
There was also another clause. The right of survivorship.
If Grace dies, Steve gets the mountain. If Steve dies, Grace gets everything.
Yet right now, there didn’t appear to be anything left to have.
“Ms. Kincaid?”
Lucy had forgotten she was on hold with the sheriff’s department.
“Yes, Sheriff Mackey.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve been out in this godforsaken blizzard half the night. What can I do for you?”
“Did you speak to Steve Delarosa last night?”
“Yes, he told me one of the guests had died at the lodge. That you all thought she might have killed herself, or had an accident or something.”
“My brother Patrick was a San Diego detective. Vanessa Russell-Marsh was murdered.”
“That’s a one-eighty from Steve’s call.”
“Patrick didn’t want to alert the killer, but I work for the coroner’s office in Washington, DC, and I’m pretty certain that Mrs. Marsh was injected with something in her neck. And last night, my brother was drugged.”
“Is he all right?”
“He will be. But he’s out for the rest of the day, and I don’t know who drugged him or who killed Vanessa. We’re in trouble here and need you.”
“I wish I could help, but there’s no way I can get up to the lodge. The roads are all closed, we can’t even reopen until the snow stops.”
“What about cross-country skis? Snowmobiles? Something?”
“It’s treacherous from here, but—I have two deputies who know this county better than even Leo Delarosa.”
“You knew Steve’s dad?”
“Hell yeah, we went to school together. He was older than me, but we played on the same football team. Good man.”
“And Grace?”
“Well, I met her at their wedding. Pretty lady.”
“You don’t know anything else about her?”
“No, can’t say that I do. After Leo’s heart attack, he didn’t come into town as much.”
“Could you run her and her sister for me?”
“You know what you’re asking for?”
“Yes, I do.”
“What’s her sister’s name?”
“Beth Holbrook. Beth is probably short for Elizabeth.”
“Right—Steve mentioned Grace’s half-sister came to help at the lodge. Keeping the books, I think he said. She used to be a bank manager or something.”
Beth kept the books? That made sense—she knew that the lodge had been running in the red, and she seemed to have specific knowledge when she mentioned the problems to Lucy.
The sheriff continued. “Why would either of them want to kill a guest? It doesn’t make sense.”
It may not make sense to them now, but it would when they solved the crime. She simply said, “Someone killed her.”
Lucy had a couple of theories that made perfect sense.
VII.
Lucy checked on Patrick. He was still lethargic, but was no longer hallucinating. “What happened?” he asked.
“Someone drugged you. I think it was in the water bottle. Don’t eat or drink anything I don’t hand you personally.”
He tried to sit up, but groaned. “Why am I in your room?”
“Don’t you remember? You puked all
I hope you never have to read this letter. I’m going to tear it up when you’re twenty-one and write a new one. But in case I’m too stubborn or stupid to remember to say it, I want you to know, son, I love you .
Dad .
Lucy read the letter twice, tears in her eyes. No wonder Steve was so heartbroken over the debt …
Would Leo have told his son in a letter that wouldn’t be read until his death that the mountain was debt free and there was a nest egg to run the place “during the lean years”?
Did that sound like a man who had been running in the red for years?
Someone had lied.
Either Leo Delarosa lied about the nest egg—though Lucy couldn’t imagine why he’d do it in a letter that wouldn’t be read until he was dead—or the nest egg had been stolen.
Or it was hidden somewhere.
She scanned Leo Delarosa’s will. It appeared standard, and showed the amendment where Steve and Grace would have to agree to sell.
There was also another clause. The right of survivorship.
If Grace dies, Steve gets the mountain. If Steve dies, Grace gets everything.
Yet right now, there didn’t appear to be anything left to have.
“Ms. Kincaid?”
Lucy had forgotten she was on hold with the sheriff’s department.
“Yes, Sheriff Mackey.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ve been out in this godforsaken blizzard half the night. What can I do for you?”
“Did you speak to Steve Delarosa last night?”
“Yes, he told me one of the guests had died at the lodge. That you all thought she might have killed herself, or had an accident or something.”
“My brother Patrick was a San Diego detective. Vanessa Russell-Marsh was murdered.”
“That’s a one-eighty from Steve’s call.”
“Patrick didn’t want to alert the killer, but I work for the coroner’s office in Washington, DC, and I’m pretty certain that Mrs. Marsh was injected with something in her neck. And last night, my brother was drugged.”
“Is he all right?”
“He will be. But he’s out for the rest of the day, and I don’t know who drugged him or who killed Vanessa. We’re in trouble here and need you.”
“I wish I could help, but there’s no way I can get up to the lodge. The roads are all closed, we can’t even reopen until the snow stops.”
“What about cross-country skis? Snowmobiles? Something?”
“It’s treacherous from here, but—I have two deputies who know this county better than even Leo Delarosa.”
“You knew Steve’s dad?”
“Hell yeah, we went to school together. He was older than me, but we played on the same football team. Good man.”
“And Grace?”
“Well, I met her at their wedding. Pretty lady.”
“You don’t know anything else about her?”
“No, can’t say that I do. After Leo’s heart attack, he didn’t come into town as much.”
“Could you run her and her sister for me?”
“You know what you’re asking for?”
“Yes, I do.”
“What’s her sister’s name?”
“Beth Holbrook. Beth is probably short for Elizabeth.”
“Right—Steve mentioned Grace’s half-sister came to help at the lodge. Keeping the books, I think he said. She used to be a bank manager or something.”
Beth kept the books? That made sense—she knew that the lodge had been running in the red, and she seemed to have specific knowledge when she mentioned the problems to Lucy.
The sheriff continued. “Why would either of them want to kill a guest? It doesn’t make sense.”
It may not make sense to them now, but it would when they solved the crime. She simply said, “Someone killed her.”
Lucy had a couple of theories that made perfect sense.
VII.
Lucy checked on Patrick. He was still lethargic, but was no longer hallucinating. “What happened?” he asked.
“Someone drugged you. I think it was in the water bottle. Don’t eat or drink anything I don’t hand you personally.”
He tried to sit up, but groaned. “Why am I in your room?”
“Don’t you remember? You puked all
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