Powdered Murder

I'd driven away from town and towards Pinecliffe Mountain with nothing to give Lila for her big day. I pulled up to the staff parking lot and noticed something out of the ordinary. There were extra cars parked in the visitor's lot. More so than usual. Most of the resort's guests opted to have their cars valeted when they came into town. Parking on sheets of ice could be uncomfortably tricky in the chilly winter months. January especially. The visitor's lot was normally only half full.

I stepped out of my car and grabbed my gym bag just as my path was blocked by a thin man in a navy blue ski jacket. His smile was way too white to be a wandering local from a neighboring town. He had to have come from the city. I clenched my fist out of habit as he smiled and nodded at me.

Adrenaline always pumps through my veins when strange men approach me, especially in the staff parking lot. I chalk it up to my naive college days when it seemed like a clever idea to go for a run through campus after sundown. The silence helped me clear my thoughts. The downside was a man in a hoodie standing behind a street lamp casually smoking a cigarette and staring in my direction. I nixed the late night jogs after I saw him along my ru

"Hello," the man said.

"Can I help you?" Hotel management insisted that we be polite to all potential guests.

"Why yes, you can."

He followed me towards the staff entrance that led to the employee lounge. I stopped just outside the door, keeping my badge in my pocket. I waited as the man clasped his hands together and eyed my gym bag.

The only time I've ever been robbed was when Joy and I went to Vegas for an Aerosmith concert. And technically I was almost pick-pocketed, but I happened to turn around and face the culprit before he was able to pull anything out of my purse. I remember thinking how weird it was that some random stranger was standing so close to us. He'd stopped walking and quickly crossed the street just as I looked down and realized my purse had been unzipped.

If this man was aiming to steal my bag and its inexpensive contents then he was about to be disappointed. If he succeeded then he would have stolen a brand new lipstick, a borrowed cocktail dress, a cashless wallet, an employee polo shirt, my name tag, and two double fudge protein bars.

"If you are looking for accommodations our concierge will be more than happy to assist you inside," I replied.

"I already have a room booked," he answered.

"Then what is it you want?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." The man eagerly studied my expression. When he noticed the way my jaw was clenched and how my feet were positioned in a defensive stance, he took a step back. "Please, I'm not looking for trouble. I am just trying to do my job."

"Which is?"

"Um.…"

He scratched his chin and casually rubbed the tip of his rounded nose. It was starting to turn pink from the cold. His ski jacket was zipped up to his neck and he was wearing ski gloves, but the pieces of material on the palms of the gloves weren't worn. They looked brand new. I glanced at the man's shoes. They were snow boots that also looked like they'd just been pulled from their package. This man wasn't only from out of town. He came here from out-of-state. And judging from the way he'd chosen to walk on the damp asphalt rather than the freshly fallen snow told me that he was from a warmer climate. It was better to make footprints in the snow than chance it with black ice. It was all over the parking lot this time of year.

"Where are you from?" I asked, before he had the chance to think of some fake story that would make me feel sorry for him.

There was only one reason that a non-tourist would venture all the way to Bison Creek. This man was a reporter. An out-of-town reporter which meant that he was here to dig up dirt on the only thing this town had to brag about. Patrick Jaye.

"California," the man answered. He reached out his hand, offering me an invitation to be his ally.

I kept my hands at my side. Joel Buntley from the local truck stop made friends once when a nosey reporter came sniffing around. An MTV tour bus broke down and stopped here last winter and Joel assisted them with getting back on the road. He'd made a hefty five grand by selling his many insights into the lives of the celebrities on board to the press, but the whole town practically shu

"Really? What brings you here?"

“Well," he chuckled, "I'm following a story. Maybe one that you can help me with?"

"A story," I said quietly. I gripped the badge in my pocket and leaned toward the staff entrance. “Sorry, Mr...?”

"John," he answered. "John Slagger."

“Let me guess, John. You are here to inquire about a guest and you thought I might want to make some extra cash?"

"Well--"

"I'm not interested," I said abruptly.

"If you change your mind--"

"I won't." I briskly swiped my badge and stepped inside the employee doors, shutting them tightly behind me.

I headed towards my staff locker, but Joy was waiting for me in the hallway, clipboard in hand. Her eyes widened when she saw me. She glanced at her watch and speed walked in my direction. I stopped so I wouldn't run into her.

"You're late," Joy barked.

"I was looking for a gift for Lila." I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one had followed me inside. No one named John.

"Let me guess," Joy replied as she placed a hand on her hips. "You couldn't figure out what to get her, so you ended up walking through Mrs. Tankle's shop and lost track of time?"

"No … I looked at the clock." I gri

"Here." Joy handed me a small box wrapped with baby blue wrapping paper and a white bow. "I took care of it."

"Thanks." I accepted the gift and slipped it into my bag. "What is it?"

"I heard from Mr. Shapely who heard from the concierge who heard from the head maid who overheard Lila's assistant say that she still doesn't have something blue for Sunday. It's a silver anklet with a blue snowflake charm made of Swarovski crystal."

"Hopefully it's her taste."

"I heard from the maid assigned to her suite that she has a thing for Swarovski pieces."

"Then she'll love it," I responded. Joy bit the inside of her cheek and drew in long breaths. Sometimes she counts as she breathes to keep herself calm. "Don't worry. Everything will go according to plan. It always does, right?"

"It will if the paparazzi doesn't bombard this place before Sunday. I mean, I know it's inevitable, but I was hoping to prolong it for as long as possible. I promised Patrick that our staff would keep their mouths shut. It's only Friday. How am I going to make it the full weekend?"

"There's something you should know." I cleared my throat. "I think you might have a leak that needs plugging."

Joy huffed and her cheeks turned rosy. I knew that telling her about John would only add to her stress, but I thought it was better than having thousands of cameramen pull into town at the last second.

"Leak?" she repeated. "What do you mean by that? What did you hear?"