Cheryl Bradshaw - Black Diamond Death

“Black tea if memory serves?” he said.

I nodded.

He handed me an empty cup and signaled the waiter and then glanced out the window.

“Spectacular view isn’t it?” he said.

“Fantastic,” I said.

“So how about it?”

“How about what?”

With his finger he indicated in the direction of a group of people outside who appeared to be on skis for the first time.

“Say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

I laughed.

“I’m much more of a beach bunny than a snow bunny,” I said.

“It’s never too late to change.”

The bunny slope wasn’t my idea of a good time. It made no sense to me why anyone subjected themselves to zero-degree temperatures when they could appreciate the mounds of white from indoors while they nestled by the glow of a stoked fire. Cold was my kryptonite and yet I liked it here. Hell, I loved it even. From the moment my feet brushed the soil seventeen years earlier something inside me changed. It was like I had been transported to another place in time where I could leave the past behind and bask in the tranquility the ski town offered me.

The café was deserted except for one other person, a woman seated in the open dining section. She had long blond hair and knockers the size of grapefruits, my guess DD. Her shirt was tight enough to bounce a quarter off of it.

The waiter returned with our drinks.

“How’s Kate?”

“Don’t think for a minute I can’t see what you’re doing,” he said.

“And what’s that?”

“Deflecting.”

A few more skiers whizzed by and I drank my tea and deflected in silence.

“Kate’s good,” he said. “I don’t get up there to see her much, but I try to give her a jingle now and then.”

“You’re still my favorite client, you know.”

“And why’s that, my rugged good looks?”

I laughed.

“You were my first,” I said.

He smiled.

“Indeed, and for that I am forever grateful.”

Marty was adopted at birth. When he aspired to and later became mayor he experienced a sudden urge to dig up his roots and find his birth mother. That’s when he contacted me. It took me almost six months to find Kathryn which was the equivalent of two years in detective time.

“How goes the PI business these days?”

“I haven’t found a case I can sink my teeth into at the moment,” I said. “But I can’t complain.”

He shot me a wink.

“No one threaten your life this week, eh? How boring.”

“The week’s not over yet,” I said.

“Can’t convince you to go back to basics even if I wanted you to, right?”

“And risk the thrill of the chase, never.”

DD glanced at her watch and rapped her manicured nails in sequence on the table. A waiter approached her and paused a moment to say something. She shook her head and he walked away.

Marty polished off the last of his coffee and rose from his chair.

“Ready for the grand tour?” he said.

I intertwined my arm in his.

“You bet.”

We walked out of the café but didn’t make it far before the rapid succession of footsteps approached us from behind. A tall male with a resort name badge tapped Marty on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt. Mr. Langston, there’s an urgent phone call for you,” he said.

“I’m sure it can wait,” Marty said.

“You should take it sir.”

“Why?” he said.

The man glanced at me and then back at Marty.

“I’d rather not say.”

“You can speak in front of Miss Monroe,” he said. “She’s like family to me.”

The man grimaced but realized he had no options.

“We just got a call from snow patrol. Something’s happened on one of the ski runs and it sounds serious.”

Marty shifted his gaze from the man to me.

“I better see what’s going on,” he said. “Can you wait here for a minute––I’m sure it’s nothing.”

I nodded and Marty followed the man down the hall.

With nothing left to do, I turned my attention to DD. She twisted her already curly blond hair into perfect spirals around her finger and then looked at her watch and frowned and let out a deep sigh of frustration. She then stood up and slung her Louis Vuitton bag over her shoulder and walked out of the room.

Marty returned a few minutes later with a stern look on his face.

“Forgive me my dear, duty calls. Rain check?” he said.

“Is everything alright?”

His jaw tightened and he shook his head.

“There’s been an accident.”

CHAPTER 2

I lingered around for a few minutes before leaving Wildwood. Marty left without the slightest hint about the accident and I wanted to know more. I finished my tea and took one last look-see out the window, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Time for me to go.

I pushed through the entrance door and was met with a forceful tug that launched me forward and brought me up close and personal to a familiar face on the opposite end.

“Well, well, if it isn’t little miss nosy,” he said. “Let me guess, you just happened to be in the neighborhood at the right time. Sound about right?”

“Give it a rest Coop.”

Detective Drake Cooper stood 6’5 and used every inch of his stalwartly physique to browbeat anyone who stood in his way, and that included everyone. He had an oval-shaped head and a jacked up nose that he owed to the various altercations he endured in the line of duty, most a result of his less than agreeable nature. For a man with senior citizen status his body retained a great shape. Even through his sports jacket anyone could see he packed two tickets to the gun show.

“Look,” I said, “I know about the accident.”

I figured I was already there, why not do some fishing.

“And you came by this information how?” he said.

“Marty told me.”

He grabbed the door and swung it all the way open.

“Why don’t you run along now and let the big boys do their job,” he said.

It looked like the fish weren’t biting today.

Coop squinched his eyes and waited for me to make my move.

“Anytime sweetheart,” he said. Only it sounded a lot more like schweetheart .

To say Coop walked around with a chip on his shoulder was a gross understatement. He had been the thorn in my otherwise lovely side for the past several years. He had an old school mind and practiced old school ways. Change wasn’t part of his vocabulary, and he had zero tolerance for my kind. In his eyes I didn’t deserve the role of detective. I was just some menial PI who nosed around and stood in the way of the real police work. Except this PI had earned the right, and on more than one occasion. I expect this fact made him resent me all the more.

Three years earlier Coop lost his dream of Park City’s next chief of police to Wade Sheppard, a detective with half the experience. Life dealt him an unfair hand and everyone else had to pay the price. And they did, in spades.

I went to my office, returned some calls, and drove home. Lord Berkeley, A.K.A. Boo, spun around when I walked through the door and did his usual welcome dance. Then he stood on his two hind legs with his paws up in an attempt to greet me as civilized people do. I scooped him up and carried him with me to the kitchen.

“And how’s your day going Boo, hmmm? Miss me?”

His deep black eyes stared up at me and he tilted his head to the side and wagged his tail.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.

I stroked him a few more times and then set him down. He trotted off to the sofa and then jumped up on it and waited.

I fished through the dishwasher for my favorite mug. It was white with brown letters on the front that said Man cannot live on chocolate alone, but a woman sure can . I reached for my kettle, filled it with water, and turned on the stove. I couldn’t get the look on Marty’s face out of my mind so I picked up the phone and gave him a call. He didn’t answer. I left a message.