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Murder at Eagle Summit
Sheriff Daniels’s gaze swept over Tim’s ski suit. “You off today?”
“Yes, sir. But I’ll stick around if you need me.”
Daniels gave a curt nod and leaned into the car to grab the radio. He requested a deputy to be dispatched to Eagle Summit Resort before tossing the radio back inside and slamming the door closed. “Hang close for a little while. Somebody will relieve you shortly.”
The man strode toward the door without waiting for an answer. Tim fell in step behind him. Inside, a handful of skiers marched across the lobby toward the rear door, their ski boots clattering on the tile floor. Mr. Harrison, hovering beside Liz near the front desk, spotted Tim and the sheriff and hurried in their direction.
“I’m Greg Harrison,” he said. “My wife and I own Eagle Summit Resort.”
Sheriff Daniels shook the man’s hand. “I understand a body has been found on the premises.” His voice boomed throughout the lobby. The skiers skidded to a stop and turned to stare.
Harrison winced and spoke in a low voice. “If you don’t mind, can we step into my office to talk? I’d prefer not to alarm the guests.”
He led them to an office beyond the front desk. When he opened the door and gestured for them to enter, Tim followed the sheriff into a large room with no windows and only two chairs—one behind a cluttered desk and one in front of it. Sheriff Daniels strode without hesitation to the high-backed desk chair. Tim crossed to stand against the opposite wall, turning in time to see Liz precede Harrison through the door. The sheriff noticed her and turned a questioning glance on Tim.
“This is Liz Carmichael,” Tim said as Harrison closed the door. “She arrived in Park City late last night and witnessed something that might prove helpful.”
The sheriff’s stern expression relaxed into a warm smile when he looked at Liz. Tim shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His attractive former fiancé frequently had that effect on men. Daniels rose and extended a hand across the desk.
“Miss Carmichael, I’m Zach Daniels, Summit County Sheriff. It’s a pleasure to welcome you to our town.”
Liz took his hand. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
He gestured toward the chair, and Liz seated herself, placing her purse on the floor beside her. Harrison came to stand against the wall beside Tim, while Daniels slid back into the desk chair.
“Where are you from, Miss Carmichael?”
“Portland originally, but I live in Kentucky now.” She perched on the edge of her seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Though, I’m not a stranger to Utah. I went to college at the U.”
“Ah, a fellow alumni from the University of Utah.” Sheriff Daniels leaned against the chair back. “But I’m sure you were there long after me. I probably graduated about the same time as your grandfather.”
Tim saw Liz’s rigid posture relax a fraction as she returned his smile. “I doubt that. You’re not nearly old enough.”
“You’d be surprised.” He propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “I’ve never been to Kentucky, but I hear it’s beautiful. Where do you live?”
Tim watched as the sheriff drew Liz out with a few minutes of chatter, admiring his technique that put her completely at ease. He effortlessly extracted the reason for Liz’s trip to Utah and the details of her arrival in Park City. Tim would have jumped in with, “Describe what you saw” immediately, but he recognized the wisdom of Daniels’s approach. A calm witness was much easier to question. Only when Liz relaxed enough to rest her back against the chair did he bring the conversation around to the point.
“So tell me about last night, Miss Carmichael. Deputy Richards said you saw something that may be important?”
The sheriff’s first mistake, though an unwitting one. At the mention of Tim’s name, Liz glanced sideways at him and her shoulders stiffened.
She can’t stand to be in the same room with me.
Which was completely unfair. After all, who was the injured party here? Who got dumped three weeks after announcing their engagement to his friends and his whole family? Who was left looking like a chump? He gathered his eyebrows into a scowl as Liz gave a halting account of her midnight view from the balcony.
Sheriff Daniels let her finish before uttering a word. “Interesting. Did you notice what he was wearing?”
“A bulky jacket, probably a ski jacket. It might have been black or some other dark color. I…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know about the rest. I want to say jeans, but I can’t be sure. They could just as easily have been ski pants.”
“And snowboarding boots?”
She nodded, then hesitated. “I—I think so. I mean, if he was carrying a snowboard, surely he had on the boots.”
“About how big was the snowboard he carried? And how did he carry it?”
She shot Tim another quick glance that stabbed at him. Did the sheriff’s question bring to mind for her the time she helped him shop for the right size of snowboard, as it did to him? Her lips tightened for a moment before she answered. “I can’t say for sure how long it was. Four and a half feet, maybe? He carried it lengthways, under his right arm as he walked.”
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