To Hell in a Handbasket by Beth Groundwater Page A

practice did it take?
    Naylor licked his lips. “You won’t go to the cops?”
    Claire damn well would, but she could convince him of the necessity of that later. Right now, she had to get him to trust them and tell them what he knew. She was terrible at lying, but a delaying tactic was different, right?
    â€œWe won’t tell a soul unless you approve it first.” Claire glanced at Judy and Roger. “Okay?”
    Roger shot her a dubious look but appeared to be willing to follow her lead. “Okay.”
    Judy nodded.
    â€œLet’s go somewhere quiet, so we can hear each other talk.” Claire scanned Naylor’s thin frame. “How about the outdoor crepe stand across the street. You hungry? We’re buying. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
    Naylor downed the rest of his beer and wiped his hand across his lips. “Okay.”
    He led them up the stairs and retrieved his snow jacket and goofy hat from the coat check. Claire, Roger, and Judy got their coats, too, and Roger tipped the young woman.
    Once outside, Claire led the way across the street and talked Naylor into ordering two dessert crepes, chocolate and strawberry. She also ordered a round of hot chocolate, so he wouldn’t feel self-conscious about eating alone. Once they were seated at an outdoor table beneath an overhead gas heater, Naylor dug into the crepes, wolfing down big bites like a stray dog on the run.
    The sight reminded Claire of her son in the midst of a growth spurt. Poor guy probably skipped dinner.
    Roger leaned forward. “Judy saw you zoom past her seconds before Stephanie was hit. You were going awfully fast.” The accusatory words came out in a cloud of frosted breath.
    After taking a swig of hot chocolate as if to bolster his courage, Naylor said, “It’s like this. I may look like I’m booking too fast down the slope, but I know what I’m doing. I’ve been riding board for eight years, since I got hooked on it in junior high. I can catch major hang time and still land on a dime. Just ask around.”
    â€œA young woman in the bar said you shred with the best,” Claire said. Whatever that means .
    Judy lifted a surprised brow at her mother.
    Naylor sat back, folding his arms across his chest. “There. You see?”
    A frown creased Roger’s face. “That’s precisely the problem. We don’t see. We don’t know who hit Stephanie or how.”
    Firmly, Claire pushed him away. She decided to establish some rapport. “Ski patrol’s looking for you because they think you hit her. I think someone else did, for reasons I’ll tell you later, but I need to hear your story first.”
    Naylor swallowed a huge bite. He leaned his elbows on the table and peered nervously up and down Main Street. No cars moved along the street. The only other people in sight were the two workers manning the crepe stand, chatting quietly between themselves. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again.
    Judy ran her hand along Naylor’s forearm in a gentle caress. “Please tell us what happened.”
    Good girl.
    Looking extremely disappointed after Judy removed her hand, Naylor cleared his throat and started in. “I remember passing the four of you below the bump field on Ptarmigan.” He looked Claire and Roger up and down. “You must know your stuff to have made it down that.”
    Roger cracked a wry smile. “We try.”
    â€œAnyway, after I passed you, I stopped in the woods to take a piss. Then she and her friend came by.” He jabbed a thumb in Judy’s direction then scratched his head, jostling the hat perched on his unruly hair. “I kinda thought that since they’d peeled off from you two, I might catch them in the lift line. Strike up a conversation, you know.” He grinned sheepishly.
    Judy pursed her lips, but thankfully knew to stay quiet and sip her cocoa.
    â€œAnd then?” Claire