A/N : Sorry if you got a strange version of this. Have been having problems with the site. It doesn't like me any more :-(
Chapter 8
Mac peered in through the passenger side window of the blue SUV. The air-bag had deployed and deflated. Emily Carter was hunched over the wheel. Sid tried to tip her backwards but she was in full rigor. "I'd say she's been dead at least 12 hours, possibly more. It's hard to tell with this cold."
Mac looked back up at Don on the road some twelve feet above them but with the amount of snow that had fallen any skid marks had long since disappeared. Don shook his head to indicate there was nothing to be seen and began to slide down the steep slope to where Emily's car was smashed up against a tree. "Was she killed in the crash Sid?"
Sid was struggling to examine the body. "Well she's sitting very close to the steering wheel and the seatbelt is looser than it should be. She certainly has a broken nose and could have a broken sternum. There is also a head injury possibly from hitting the side window. There don't appear to be any signs of foul play but I need to get her to autopsy to confirm COD."
Sam hunched deeper into his coat. "Well I wouldn't suggest trying to get down to county this evening Sid. Weather's turning again. We're going to have a heavy snowfall this evening though it should clear up by midnight. Best get her back to town. I've called Bruce's Dad. He's got a tow-truck. We can haul the wreck back to his garage." Sid nodded and straightened up. "Wouldn't surprise me if it was the crash that killed her. She shouldn't have been driving. According to those boys, she and Sandra had had more than a few drinks together. Terrible business. She can't be much older than my daughter." Sam looked at the wreck sadly and shook his head as Sid placed a hand on his shoulder.
Don checked the glove compartment but found nothing. He reached down to the floor and stood up with her purse. Looking through it he found nothing but a wallet with some cash, a make-up case and a cell phone. Mac was searching the rest of the car but he shook his head. "Nothing." Don moved around to the driver's side. He leaned in and patted her down. He felt her pockets, and checked the side pocket in the car. He shook his head at Mac.
"Nothing Mac. She hasn't got it on her."
"Got what?" asked Sam.
"Ronnie Escott's little black book." Mac explained. "It seems that Sandra and Emily's death is related to the murder of Ronnie Escott, a well-known crook wanted by the NYPD. At present we believe that his brother Gavin Escott may be responsible for the murder."
Don picked up. "According to Ronnie's ex-wife, he kept all his business details, contacts, dirty secrets, bank accounts etc. in a little black book in a specially made pocket in his suits. Never went anywhere without it. A witness says that just before Ronnie died, he saw Emily take something from Ronnie's jacket."
Sam looked thoughtful. "And you think it's this little black book? That's why he killed Sandra Beale?"
"We think Gavin Escott somehow worked out that Emily took it. He turned over their apartment but found nothing. He probably did the same as us and checked the last dialled numbers. He found out that the girls had come up here. He followed them and was searching the B&B when Sandra came back unexpectedly. He killed her, attacked Mac and, like us, is still looking for Emily. Looks like Emily was running …." Don gestured to the car before bending down to examine the rear corner.
"Looks like a recent scrape." He peered more closely. "Red paint!" He turned to look at Mac who nodded as an enormous tow-truck pulled up followed by a white van driven by Bruce. A huge man with ginger hair got out. It was easy to see where Bruce got his looks from. He slithered down the slope towards them.
"How do folks?" Don felt his hand disappear into the larger man's bear-like paw. "I'm Jim and this 'ere is Digger." Don flinched as a large dopey looking bloodhound bounded out of the truck towards him and sniffed enthusiastically at his trouser legs and boots. Don sensed rather than heard Mac snigger.
"I think he likes you." Mac attempted to keep the smirk of his face knwing Don's aversion to anything with four legs. Don backed away from the large dog. Digger had a quick sniff at Mac who rubbed his ears then the big dog loped off to scratch away at a nearby pile of snow. "I can see why they call him Digger." Mac and Don moved back up the slope as Jim and Bruce hooked up the winch to the back of Emily's car with Sam and Sid looking on sadly. "Do you think Gavin Escott's still here?" asked Don quietly.
Mac shuddered as a gust of wind sent snow swirling around them. "That depends on whether he's found the book or not?"
Don looked at his friend's concerned face, at the bruise on his jaw and the cut above his eye. "You just can't stay out of trouble can you?" Mac arched an eyebrow questioningly. "You're supposed to be on vacation. You know, ski, eat, sleep ...etcetera." Don grinned. "Speaking of which have you told Stella how you got that scar on your hip yet?"
"Shut up Don!" growled Mac though there was no real anger in voice. Don chuckled to himself as they retreated to the relative warmth of Sam Kingston's 4x4. He was looking forward to getting back to the lodge, the roaring log fire and a generous helping of Sid's famous pot roast but he couldn't help wishing he could be a fly on the wall when Mac explained how got that scar to Stella.
'***************'
"Okay Lucy. Line it up and when you're ready push." Danny squatted down behind his daughter as she lined up the bowling ball with the pins. Lucy pushed the ball down the ball ramp and watched it roll toward the pins. It's slow progress was a little painful to watch but it eventually made it and as it hit the centre pin they all dropped in slow motion one by one.
"Strike!" squealed Lucy at the top of her voice. Danny stood open-mouthed staring at the bowling lane as the automatic barriers dropped ready for the next player. "Mommy! I got a strike. I'm beating Daddy." Danny turned to Lindsay and Stella who were endeavouring to cover fits of giggles, still not believing that it was possible to be losing to a pre-schooler. He slunk back to his seat and grabbed his beer. He decided that his aim must be off due to the kick in the face he had received earlier. He glared at his wife as she shot him an enormous grin as she took her turn. He glanced at Stella whose eyes were dancing with amusement.
"Yeah yeah yeah! I know! It was my idea." he grumbled as he looked around Zazi's. The bar had obviously recently been renovated and was separated from the bowling alley by an aluminium and glass partition. The bowling lanes were new and obviously a good investment as four were occupied and it wasn't relatively early in the evening. There was another family with two small children, and two couples, one of whom looked to be in their seventies. He grimaced as a smiling Lindsay returned to swap places with Stella. He was trying to pretend that he hadn't noticed her 'spare'. On the far side of the room, Danny watched a couple of men playing pool. He thought he recognized one of them as the guy from the ski hire shop. A dark-haired woman with red streaks in her hair who he took to be Ally Jackson, the owner was stood behind the bar chatting to a couple perched on a bar stools. As he glanced at the clock on the wall he caught a glimpse of a face at the door.
"You're up!" announced Stella. Danny spun to look at her and then back at the door but there was no one there. Perhaps it had just been his imagination."Come on Danny!" He stepped forward to pick up his bowling ball but glanced back at the door once more. He couldn't be sure but he thought he had seen Gavin Escott.
Lindsay jammed her daughter's hat on her head and just managed to pull up her hood before the bundle of energy shot out of the door into the falling snow. She smiled as she watched the little girl dance around trying to catch snowflakes. Danny grabbed his daughter's hand as they started to walk back to the lodge though he kept looking around.
Stella came up beside Lindsay. "So how's New Orleans?" she asked. Stella looked at her and knew what she was really asking. She sighed.
"It's hard. We talk almost every day and sometimes it's surprising how quickly the time goes. We're both so busy. It's funny but I'm becoming more like him with every day that goes past. I used to always be telling him to go home and get some rest and now I've got Gina telling me the same thing but there always seems to be so much to do … so much keep on top of!" She paused and looked at Lindsay. "I didn't want to go you know?"
"I know. Mac persuaded you?"
Stella nodded. "He thought I deserved it. He knew that was what I had worked so hard to achieve. He wanted me to have my shot at being boss and he was right. But it's hard Lindsay. I miss him so much." Stella took a deep breath. "Three and a half years."
"What?" asked Lindsay puzzled.
"Another three and a half years until he retires. Till he has to retire or take a desk job which I know he won't do. He'll retire and when he does ..." Stella smiled at Lindsay. "...so will I. I think five years playing the boss will have been more than enough. You know I actually enjoyed that series of lectures I gave just before I left. I think I'll take up a cushy little teaching job and then come back to a home-cooked meal..." Stella caught Lindsay's incredulous look. "...Oh he's not a bad cook. His Eggs Benedict are to die for! … Until then it's phone calls and a weekend every other month plus holidays."
Lindsay nodded slowly not really understanding how they could live like that but just from what she had seen this week she had to admit it did seem to work. And she knew that many families did live like that with one or more family members working away from for long periods of time especially military families. Lindsay was glad she didn't have to. "Well I guess you just have to make the most of the time you've got."
"Oh believe me we do!" Stella's voice dripped with innuendo, a huge grin lighting her face.
"Stella!" giggled Lindsay feigning shock. Danny turned around to look at them suspiciously wondering what on earth they were talking about. Lindsay smiled reassuringly at her husband but then decided to wind him up anyway. "Just telling Stella about our ski lessons." She smirked. "Seriously Stella he was going so fast I thought he wasn't going to stop till he hit the lockers."
Stella ground to a halt. Lindsay and Danny stared at her. Looking at her watch Stella ignored their shouts of 'what' as she sped off towards the Tourist Office before it shut. She heard Lindsay shout to Danny to take Lucy back. As she approached the doors of the brightly lit office she could see a young girl with a bunch of keys on a long string bending down to lock the door. Stella dug into her pocket and, bringing out her badge, she slapped it against the glass making the young woman flinch before she jumped up to open the door.
As Lindsay skidded to a halt behind her Stella took a deep breath. "I'm Detective Bonasera with the New Orleans Police Department. I'm here working with ..."
The girl beamed at her. "...with Dad. Yes I know. Please come in." Lindsay and Stella stared at her flabbergasted.
"Your Dad?" asked Lindsay, still wondering what Stella was so desperate to find out.
"I'm Sara Kingston. Dad told me all about you." She smiled at the two women's astonishment. "We're a very small community." she explained unknowingly reiterating her Dad's words from the previous day. "Now how can I help you?"
"The ski lockers you rent out? Did you rent one to Sandra Beale and Emily Carter?" asked Stella.
Sara nodded. "Yes I'm pretty sure they took one. Let me check the number." Sara went behind the desk. "Er yes. Number forty-two."
