Ice Cold Killer

Chapter One

Snow hid a lot of things, Colorado State Patrol Trooper Ryder Stewart mused as he watched the wrecker back up to the white, box-shaped clump near the top of Dixon Pass. Christy O’Brien, a sturdy blonde with chin-length hair beneath a bright red knit beanie, stopped the wrecker a few inches from the snow clump, climbed out and brushed at the flakes with a gloved hand, revealing the bumper of a brown delivery truck. She knelt and hooked chains underneath the truck, then gave Ryder a thumbs-up. Ready to go.

Ryder glanced behind him at the barrier he’d set up over the highway, and the Road Closed sign just beyond it. Ahead of Ryder, a cascade of snow flowed over the pavement, part of the avalanche that had trapped the truck. You’re clear, he said.

Slowly, Christy eased the wrecker forward. With a sound like two pieces of foam rubbing together, the delivery truck emerged from its icy cocoon. When the truck was fully on the pavement, the wrecker stopped. The door to the delivery truck slid open, clumps of snow hitting the pavement with a muffled floof. Took you long enough! Alton Reed grinned as he said the words and brushed snow from the shoulders of his brown jacket.

How many times is this, Alton? Ryder asked, looking the driver up and down.

First one this year—fourth overall. Alton surveyed the truck. Got buried pretty deep this time. I’m thinking it’s going to be a bad year for avalanches.

The weather guessers say it’s going to be a bad snow year. Ryder studied the pewter sky, heavy clouds like dirty cotton sitting low on the horizon. This is the second time this week we’ve had to close the highway. Might not open again for a few days if the weather keeps up.

You people ought to be used to it, Alton said. It happens often enough. Though I can’t say I’d care for being cut off from the rest of the world that way.

Only four days last winter, Ryder said.

And what—three weeks the year before that?

Three years ago, but yeah. Ryder shrugged. The price we pay for living in paradise. That was how most people who lived there thought of Eagle Mountain, anyway—a small town in a gorgeous setting that outsiders flocked to every summer and fall. The fact that there was only one way in and out of the town, and that way was sometimes blocked by avalanches in the winter, only added to the appeal for some.

Guess I’ll have to find a place in town to stay until the weather clears, Alton said, eyeing the cascade of snow that spilled across the highway in front of them.

You ever think of asking for a different route? Ryder asked. One that isn’t so avalanche prone?

Nah. Alton climbed back into his van. After the first scare, it’s kind of an adrenaline rush, once you realize you’re going to be okay. And this route includes hazard pay—a nice bonus.

Ryder waved goodbye as Alton turned his truck and steered around the barriers, headed toward town. He and the other commuting workers, delivery drivers and tourists trapped by the storm would find refuge at the local motel and B&Bs. Ryder shifted his attention to Christy, who was fiddling with the chains on her wrecker. Thanks, Christy, he said. Maybe I won’t have to call you out anymore today.

Don’t you want me to pull out the other vehicle? she asked.

The words gave him a jolt. Other vehicle? He turned to stare at the snowbank, and was stunned to see a glint of red, like the shine of a taillight. The vehicle it belonged to must have been right up against the rock face. Alton hadn’t mentioned it, so he must not have known it was there, either. Yeah, you’d better pull it out, too, he said. Do you need any help?

No, I’ve got it.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his fleece-lined, leather patrolman’s jacket and blew out a cloud of breath as he waited for Christy to secure the vehicle. When she’d brushed away some of the snow, he could make out a small sedan with Colorado plates.

Wedged farther back under the packed snow, the car took longer to extricate, but it was lighter than the delivery van, and Christy’s wrecker had tire chains and a powerful engine. She dragged the vehicle, the top dented in from the weight of the snow, onto the pavement.

Snow fell away from the car, revealing a slumped form inside. Ryder raced to the vehicle and tried the door. It opened when he pulled hard, and he leaned in to take a look, then groped for the radio on his shoulder. I need an ambulance up at the top of Dixon Pass, he said. And call the medical examiner.

Even before he reached out to feel for the woman’s pulse, he knew she wouldn’t be needing that ambulance. The young, brown-haired woman was as cold as the snow that surrounded them, her hands and feet bound with silver duct tape, her throat slit all the way across.

He leaned back out of the car and tilted his head up into the cold, welcoming the feel of icy flakes on his cheeks. Yeah, the snow hid a lot of things, not all of them good.

DARCY MARSH RAN her fingers through the silky fur of the squirming Labrador puppy, and grinned as a soft pink tongue swiped at her cheek. For all the frustrations that were part of being a veterinarian, visits like this were one of the perks. I’d say Admiral is a fine, healthy pup, she told the beaming couple in front of her. High school teacher Maya Renfro and Sheriff’s Deputy Gage Walker returned the smile. We’ll keep an eye on that little umbilical hernia, but I don’t expect it will cause any problems.

Can Casey hold him now? Maya asked, smiling at her young niece, Casey, who was deaf. The little girl’s busily signing fingers conveyed her eagerness to cuddle her puppy.

Yes, I think he’s ready to come down. Darcy handed over the pup, and Casey cradled him carefully.

You’ll need to bring him back in a month for his second set of puppy vaccinations, Darcy said as she washed her hands at the exam room sink. If you have any concerns before then, don’t hesitate to give us a call.

Thanks, Doc, Gage said. The family followed Darcy to the front of the office. Are you all by yourself today?

It’s Dr. Farrow’s day off, Darcy said. And I let Stacy go early, since you’re my last client for today.

Not quite the last, Maya said. She nodded toward the open waiting room door. An auburn-haired man in the blue shirt and tan slacks of a Colorado State Patrolman stood at their approach.

Ryder, what are you doing here? Gage asked, stepping forward to shake hands with the trooper.

I just needed to talk to the vet for a minute, the officer, Ryder, said. He looked past Gage. Hello, Maya, Casey. That’s a good-looking pup you have there.

His name is Admiral, Maya said as Casey walked forward with the now squirming dog.

Ryder knelt and patted the puppy. I’ll bet you two have a lot of fun together, he said, speaking slowly so that Casey could read his lips.

Darcy moved to the office computer and printed out an invoice for Maya, who paid while Gage and Ryder made small talk about dogs, the weather and the upcoming wedding of Gage’s brother, Sheriff Travis Walker. We’re thinking of throwing some kind of bachelor party thing in a couple of weeks, Gage said. I’ll let you know when I have all the details. We may have to stay in town, if the weather keeps up like this.

That should be an exciting party—not, Maya said as she returned her wallet to her purse. All the local law enforcement gathered at Moe’s pub, with the entire town keeping tabs on your behavior.

This is my brother we’re talking about, Gage said. Travis isn’t exactly known for cutting loose.

Laughing, they said goodbye to Ryder and left.

What can I do for you? Darcy leaned back against her front counter and studied the trooper. He was young, fit and good-looking, with closely cropped dark auburn hair and intense blue eyes. She had only been in Eagle Mountain four months, but how had she missed running into him? She certainly wouldn’t have forgotten a guy this good-looking.

Are you Dr. Darcy Marsh? he asked.

Yes.

Is Kelly Farrow your business partner?

Yes. The room suddenly felt at least ten degrees colder. Darcy gripped the edges of the front counter. Is something wrong? she asked. Has Kelly been in an accident? Her partner had a bit of a reckless streak. She always drove too fast, and with this weather...

I’m sorry to have to tell you that Ms. Farrow—Dr. Farrow—is dead, Ryder said.

Darcy stared at him, the words refusing to sink in. Kelly...dead?

Why don’t you sit down? Ryder took her by the arm and gently led her to a chair in the waiting room, then walked over and flipped the sign on the door to Closed. He filled a paper cup with water from the cooler by the door and brought it to her. At any other time, she might have objected to him taking charge that way, but she didn’t see the point at the moment.

She sipped water and tried to pull herself together. Kelly’s really dead? she asked.

I’m afraid so. He pulled a second chair over and sat facing her. I need to ask you some questions about her.

What happened? Darcy asked. Was she in an accident? I always warned her about driving so fast. She—

It wasn’t an accident, he said.

She made herself look at him then, into eyes that were both sympathetic and determined. Not unkind eyes, but his expression held a hint of steel. Trooper Stewart wasn’t a man to be messed with. She swallowed hard, and somehow found her voice. If it wasn’t an accident, how did she die? Did Kelly have some kind of undiagnosed heart condition or something?

She was murdered.

Darcy gasped, and her vision went a little fuzzy around the edges. This must be a nightmare—one of those super-vivid dreams that felt like real life, but wasn’t. This couldn’t possibly be real.

Then she was aware of cold water soaking into her slacks, and Ryder gently taking the paper cup from her hand. I need to ask you some questions that may help me find her murderer, he said.

How? she asked. I mean, how was she...killed? The word was hard to say.

We don’t have all the details yet, he said. She was found in her car, buried in an avalanche on top of Dixon Pass. Do you know why she might have been up there?

Why wasn’t her brain working better? Nothing he said made sense to her. She brushed at the damp spot on her pants and tried to put her thoughts into some coherent order. She told me she was going shopping and to lunch in Junction, she said. Leaving Eagle Mountain meant driving over Dixon Pass. There was no other way in or out.

When was the last time you spoke to her? Ryder asked.

Yesterday afternoon, when we both left work. Today was her day off.

Was that unusual, for her to take off during the week?

No. We each take one day off during the week so we can both work Saturdays. My day off is Wednesday. Hers is Tuesday.

How long have you known her?

Darcy frowned, trying to concentrate. Five years? We met in college, then were roommates in vet school. We really hit it off. When she was looking for a partner to start a vet business here in Eagle Mountain, I jumped at the chance.

Are you still roommates? he asked.

No. She lives in a duplex in town and I have a place just outside town—on the Lusk Ranch, out on County Road Three.

Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt her? he asked. Does she have a history of a stalker, or someone from her past she’s had a rocky relationship with?

No! Kelly got along with everyone. Darcy swallowed past the lump in her throat and pinched her hand, hard, trying to snap out of the fog his news had put her in. She couldn’t break down now. Not yet. If you had ever met her, you’d understand. She was this outgoing, sunny, super-friendly person. I was the more serious, quiet one. She used to say we were good business partners because we each brought different strengths to the practice. She buried her face in her hands. What am I going to do without her?

Can you think of anyone at all she might have argued with recently—an unhappy client, perhaps?

Darcy shook her head. No. We’ve only been open a few months—less than four. So far all our interactions with clients have been good ones. I know, realistically, that won’t last. You can’t please everyone. But it’s been a good experience so far. Well, except for Dr. Nichols. She made a face.

Ed Nichols, the other vet in town?

Yes. She sighed. He wasn’t happy about our coming here. He said there wasn’t enough business in a town this small for one vet, much less three. He accused us of undercutting his prices, and then I heard from some patients that he’s been bad-mouthing us around town. But he never threatened us or anything like that. I mean, I can’t believe he would want to kill one of us. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold.

Where were you this morning, from nine to one? Ryder asked.

Is that when she died? I was here, seeing patients. We open at eight o’clock.

Did you go out for lunch?

No. We had an emergency call—a dog that had tangled with a porcupine. I had to sedate the poor guy to get the quills out. I ended up eating a granola bar at my desk about one o’clock.

So you usually spend all day at the office here?

She shook her head. Not always. One of us is usually here, but we also treat large animals—horses and cows, mostly, but we see the occasional llama or donkey. Sometimes it’s easier to go out to the animal than to have them brought here. That was something else Dr. Nichols didn’t like—that we would do house calls like that. He said it set a bad precedent.

Was Kelly dating anyone? Ryder asked.

She dated a lot of people, but no one seriously. She was pretty and outgoing and popular.

Did she ever mention a man she didn’t get along with? A relationship that didn’t end well—either here or where you were before?

We were in Fort Collins. And no. Kelly got along with everyone. She made dating look easy, and had sometimes teased Darcy—though gently—about her reluctance to get involved.

What about you? Are you seeing anyone?

No. What did that have to do with Kelly? But before she could ask, Ryder stood. He towered over her—maybe six feet four inches tall, with broad shoulders and muscular thighs. She shrank back from his presence, an involuntary action she hated, but couldn’t seem to control.

Can I call someone for you? he asked. A friend or relative?

No. She grabbed a tissue and pressed it to her eyes. I need to call Kelly’s parents. They’ll be devastated.

Give me their contact information and I’ll do that, he said. It’s part of my job. You can call and talk to them later.

All right. She went to the office, grateful for something to do, and pulled up Kelly’s information on the computer. I’ll go over to her house and get her cats, she said. Is it okay if I do that? I have a key. Kelly had a key to Darcy’s place, too. The two looked after each other’s pets and were always in and out of each other’s homes.

Yes. I already stopped by her place with an evidence team from the sheriff’s department. That’s how we found your contact information.

She handed him a piece of paper on which she’d written the names and numbers for Kelly’s parents. He took it and gave her a business card. I wrote my cell number on there, he said. Call me if you think of anything that might help us. Even something small could be the key to finding out what happened to her.

She stared at the card, her vision blurring, then tucked it in the front pocket of her slacks. Thank you.

Are you sure you’re going to be okay? he asked.

No. How could she be okay again, with her best friend dead? And not just dead—murdered. She shook her head but said, I’ll be all right. I’m used to looking after myself.

The intensity in his gaze unnerved her. He seemed genuinely concerned, but she wasn’t always good at reading people. I’ll be fine, she said. And I’ll call you if I think of anything.

He left and she went through the motions of closing up. The two cats and a dog in hospital cages were doing well. The dog—the porcupine victim—would be able to go home in the morning, and one of the cats, as well. The other cat, who had had surgery to remove a tumor, was also looking better and should be home by the weekend. She shut down the computer and set the alarm, then locked up behind her.

Outside it was growing dark, snow swirling over the asphalt of the parking lot, the pine trees across the street dusted with snow. The scene might have been one