Powdered Murder

"Murray." My heart pounded as I grabbed the first pair of jeans and top I could get my hands on. "We've got to find him, you understand? Tell the sheriff to patrol the town as soon as he gets back."

"Geez, Essie. Take a breath."

"This is serious," I argued. "It's the morning of Patrick's wedding and there's a mentally unstable tourist ru

"Oh." I heard the odd sound of Murray's gulp. "I get it. I'll tell Dad."

"Start with the bakery," I suggested. "Apparently he has a thing for Ada."

I hung up just as I grabbed my coat and ran to the front door.

"Essie!" Joy said, ru

I turned around, surprised to see Joy had actually spent the night in her room. I leaned to the side a little to peek into her bedroom.

"No naked man this morning?" I joked.

"Please, sit down," she insisted. "Your cheeks are practically on fire. Besides, you never told me what happened last night. We had a deal, remember? Today is the big day."

"I know what day it is," I said, frustrated. Joy folded her arms and wrinkled her nose. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap it's just…"

"This whole thing has turned us both into crazy people," she said. She scratched the side of her head and left a tangled piece of hair hanging across her face. I took a better look at her, noticing the bags under her eyes that were normally covered with concealer. Sores were on her cuticles from biting her hang nails until they bled. "I blame Patrick."

"Yes," I agreed, thinking back to the moment we'd shared together last night. I opened my mouth to tell Joy that we'd kissed, but I quickly stopped myself. I'd already made the decision to move forward and let the past stay in the past. Patrick was free to make his own decisions, and maybe if he had decided to call off his wedding things would be different. But he didn't. He talked about it many times, but he still hadn't followed through with anything. He must have really loved Lila in some way. "Do you ever wonder what we would doing right now if Patrick had never chosen to get married at the resort?"

"I wouldn't be on the brink of the promotion of my life," Joy answered.

"You'll get your promotion," I responded. "And this town's reputation will remain intact. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a killer to catch." I zipped up my coat.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"You're a bridesmaid," Joy reminded me. "You should be at the resort right now getting ready for the ceremony."

"I'll meet you there."

Before she had the chance to argue with me, I stepped out into the cold morning air and smiled at the uncommonly clear weather. The snowstorm had passed for now and the streets were covered with white powder that glittered under the morning sun. It made the town look sweet and simple like a homemade marshmallow dipped in white chocolate.

At the end of the street was the bakery. I would search there first for John. He was wandering around somewhere. He had to be. My mind raced as I passed Mrs. Henson out for her morning walk with her two Akitas.

John Slagger was a nutter and if Franco wasn't the killer, then John was responsible for all of this. I didn’t know how he managed to murder Do

I kept speed walking until I found myself gulping down air. I arrived at the bakery and was disappointed when I looked through the windows and didn't see John Slagger anywhere. I turned around and made my way to the coffee shop. I crossed the street in front of the corner market and stopped dead in my tracks when something black and shiny caught the corner of my eye. I turned my head.

The black BMW was parked behind the store. My chest felt heavy as I glared at it, waiting for the driver to step out of the front seat and face me once and for all. I took a step closer to it and froze. The door to the corner market swung open and a man in a khaki trench coat and brown slacks stepped out of the shop with a paper sack. His white hair matched the snow on the windowsills and his weathered face was tan and wrinkled. He carried himself with confidence, winking in my direction as he walked past me and headed for his car. The black BMW with tinted windows.

The man didn't look familiar. He casually unlocked the car door and checked his watch before getting inside. I took a deep breath, and walked towards him. This was either a brilliant idea or the stupidest one I've had in years. But I had to know the truth. I had to know what I was dealing with. Who I was dealing with. I might have never had the chance to confront the mysterious driver again.

"Excuse me," I shouted. The man stopped and watched me approach him with a friendly smile on his face.  He tilted his bag of supplies, letting the lid of Stella's prize-wi

"Can I help you?" he responded politely. I wasn't sure what to say or what not to say. All I knew was Martha had threatened me, someone was trying to kill me, and I wanted answers before the town of Bison Creek was crawling with press and policemen.

"Hi, I'm Essie."

"Pleased to meet you," he answered, refusing to return the gesture by giving me his name.

"I've seen you around before … with Martha, I think." I took a deep breath and glanced up at the snow-capped peaks in the distance as I casually mentioned Martha's name. The man's polite grin turned sour as he chucked his grocery bag into his car.

"Martha said this might happen," he muttered. "Stupid townies poking their noses where they don't belong." His voice sounded raspy as he blurted out insults. I took a step back into a pile of fresh snow. "Alright, what'll it take to shut you up?"

"I don't understand what you mean?" I took another step backwards but almost stumbled on a snow-covered rock. I rubbed my arms together as a chill breeze brushed pass the two of us.

"It's money you want, isn't it? How much?"

"What are you talking about?" I replied, confused. The man reached into his pocket and my entire torso froze. When he pulled out his check book I exhaled a breath of relief.

"Name your price," he repeated. "Come on, I haven't got all day." He glanced up and down the street again. "You must have a figure in mind."

"Honestly, I don't."

"Then what will it take for you to keep your trap shut about me and Martha, huh?"

I covered my mouth, finally realizing what the man was talking about. The breakfast food. The sneaking around. The threats. And the overwhelming smell of aftershave.

They were having an affair.

"You mean what will it take to keep me quiet about the two of you having an affair?" I tested him to see if I was right. His face cringed when I said the word affair out loud like admitting it publicly would cause the heavens to send a mighty avalanche to engulf him and the town.

"Keep your voice down," he pleaded, looking anxious.

"How long has this been going on?"

"That's none of your business," he snapped. "Either name your price or keep your mouth shut, got it?"