Powdered Murder

"Sheriff Williams," he introduced himself. "Is anyone here hurt?"

"No, we're all fine, officers." Franco put aside his anxiety about Lila's clothes and paid close attention to the men in uniform.

"Then I would like to ask you all a few questions." The sheriff nodded at his son. Murray pulled out a voice recorder and got it ready to record interviews.

I took another turn around the suite and stopped when Joy poked her head through the door. Her jaw clenched when she spotted me. She nodded at the sheriff and quickly walked towards me holding up her clipboard.

"Bad news," she muttered, pretending to show me tomorrow's revised schedule. "Lila requested that the cameras on this floor and a bunch of others around the resort be turned off upon her arrival."

"What? Why?"

"Something about how she has stayed places before where the staff stole private footage and tried to sell it to the tabloids?" She thumbed through a few papers until she came to a copy of the signed and approved request. I skimmed the letter and squinted when I read the signature at the end.

"Why did Franco sign this?"

"He put in the request on Lila's behalf," she whispered. "What? You think he might have done this? That wouldn't make any sense."

"No forced entry. No damage done to the designer apparel, apart from being thrown on the floor. It is possible." I glanced up at Franco as he gave the police his statement. He placed his hands on his hips for a few seconds before waving them in the air as he described the state of the room when he arrived.

"He is strange though." She took a deep breath. I knew she was dying inside. "Mr. Kentworth is watching me like a hawk, Essie."

"Hang in there," I quietly replied. "Slowly but surely the truth will come out. It always does."

"I hope you're right or I won't be able to pay my share of the rent."

"It won't come to that," I muttered.

"Her bridesmaid was knocked off at the hotel spa and now her room has been vandalized," Joy said through her teeth. "She'll definitely call the whole thing off after this."

I looked at Lila and the way she tossed her head back when she drank. Her lips twisted like she hated the taste, but she kept drinking as if she was desperate to forget about what had happened. Patrick rubbed her shoulders and shook his head when she requested another. He looked up briefly and our eyes met.

I knew what Patrick was thinking.

Another sign from good ol' Snowflake.

CHAPTER SIX

I couldn't sleep at all when I got back to my apartment. Instead, I'd spent the rest of the night reading through the guest list that Joy printed off. It contained everyone who had checked into the hotel this weekend. I'd glanced in the parking lot before I drove off hoping to see the mysterious black BMW that Wade had mentioned, but I couldn't find it. Disappointed with myself, I'd fallen asleep with my head on the kitchen table.

My neck ached Saturday morning as I walked past The Painted Deer and towards Doc Henry's office. The sidewalks were a little icy from not being shoveled since last night and the sky was a brilliant blue. Doc's office was at the end of the street. It was the closest business to the resort, and he was the only doctor in town, often seeing guests who were staying at the Pinecliffe Mountain Resort. After the resort had opened, he bought the shop next door and transformed his business into an up-to-date medical suite complete with a professionally designed waiting room with flat screen TVs and a counter with complimentary tea and coffee.

I pushed open the door and immediately unzipped my ski coat. Doc's receptionist, Maggie, looked up from her computer screen ready to say that the office wasn't open yet, but she sighed when she saw my face.

Maggie isn't the receptionist type. She hardly smiles. She stares at her computer screen when she checks patients in rather than looking them in the eyes. I once saw her filling out Publisher's Clearinghouse entries while she had patients on hold. But Maggie is the only girl in town who has a high school diploma, lives in Bison Creek full time, and can type fast enough to transcribe all of the Doc's dictations.

"Oh, it's you," Maggie commented. "He's in his office."

"You know if you locked the door, you wouldn’t have to tell people to come back at nine o'clock."

"It saves me an extra trip up there," she answered. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to walk through the records room, all the way down the hallway, then through the waiting room just to open the door?"

"Like five seconds?" I muttered.

"Whoever designed this layout wanted to keep the receptionist prisoner." She tossed aside her curly auburn locks and continued typing on her keyboard. I noticed a small damp spot on her sleeve that had been rubbed raw with a wet towel. An almost coffee stain from her morning brew.

I opened the door leading to the exams rooms and walked towards the doctor's office.

Doc Henry and I are far from strangers. He has been my doctor since my parents adopted me. The Doc moved to Bison Creek from Denver because his wife was tired of city living. The two of them moved in one street over from us. When the doc's wife passed away a few years ago, he decided to stay and keep his practice ru

Now, Doc Henry and I are business partners. He runs special blood tests on most of my clients that produces a panel of every vitamin and mineral they're deficient in. Using this test I can tell each client exactly what he or she needs to eat more of, and eat less of.

I knocked on the Doc's door as I entered his office.

"Essie." He looked up from studying a file on his desk. "What brings you here?"

"Hey, Doc," I replied. "I just thought I would stop by and see if you have any results in for me."

His office looked like his living room. There were pictures of him and his late wife on the walls, tons of medical books, a sofa, and a counter with a microwave and coffee pot. It was like his office also acted as a mini apartment. He spent way too much time here.

"You know I always have Maggie call when they're in," he commented. His white hair was shiny against the light of his desk lamp. "You are worried about something, aren't you?"

"I know you can't say anything because of that patient confidentially stuff, but I know you looked at the body of that girl at the resort yesterday." I slowly sat down and clasped my hands together.

"Yes, your sister called me." His voice was quieter. "And you two shouldn't be talking about that stuff. Find something more cheerful to occupy your time."

"Well, what do you think happened to her?"

"I haven't finished my report so I can't say for sure," he whispered. "Essie, you can't go around asking questions about this. Hardly anyone knows about it and I would like to keep it that way. Do you know how much business I get from the resort? Half my patients come from there, and I don't want word of the accident to spread so far that it scares business away from town."

"I know, Doc. I'm just trying to figure out what happened. I was … I was one of the people who found her."

"You?" he replied. "Oh yes, that's right. You're in the wedding party. Martha was here yesterday."