Chapter 9

Rays of sunlight glistened and shimmered off the waters of Lake Tahoe even in the heart of winter. Della Street relished the warmth her mug of coffee provided to her hands as she stood on the front deck of her little mountain cabin. A different kind of warmth radiated from her own heart as she recalled her first cautious steps up the short flight of stairs a few days before. Once more holding her securely against his side to avoid a slip and fall into a snowbank, Perry Mason paused long enough to make sure she saw the sign which identified the cabin. It was hand-painted in a delicate floral design. It read simply "La Place de Della."

The burly man's smile was almost shy. "It's my gift to you…to us, really. Just a little place we can call our own when we want to get away. What do you think?"

Della looked up at him through misty eyes. "I love it and you," once again he had managed to surprise her. Mason had given a passing thought of carrying her over the threshold but instead just unlocked the door and ushered her inside. He had phoned ahead to the hotel's Guest Services Manager and it had paid off. A resort maintenance crew had shoveled the walkway and deck. A fire was lit in the stove and the cabin was warm and comforting as they entered. Housekeepers had also descended and had worked their magic like so many busy elves. The men's abandoned ski equipment was now placed neatly against the cabin wall awaiting the next trip down a groomed slope. The beds were made with fresh linens and everything was neat and tidy. Perry took great enjoyment in pointing out the petite chalet's features including a direct phone line to the hotel's concierge's desk and how they'd be able to make a call and arrange for dinner reservations at one of the resort's eateries-or have room service delivered to their door. They had stopped for groceries on their way back up the mountain and the kitchenette's icebox and cupboards held a week's worth of ingredients for simple meals. He also reminded her of the many shops and services available to the resort's guests. All she had to do was to pick up the phone and a snow coach "taxi" would soon arrive to whisk her to the resort destination of her choice. These vehicles were specially designed for winter and summer travel. In winter on snow-covered trails they became motorized sleighs, covered and heated for the comfort of the passengers.

She wasn't up to walking the first couple of days at "Della's Place" but she was feeling better now and had begged off most of her pain meds, cutting her dosage to half and skipping the muscle relaxants entirely since the prescription did read "as needed". True to her promise, she had rested all cozy and warm inside while the men were out and about during the day playing in the snow. She was content to listen to the radio, read or take naps. Perry discovered he could go off trail and literally ski down to their cabin's door, have lunch with her and call for a snow coach pick up when he was ready to go back up to the chair lifts area to rendezvous with Paul Drake. Paul had managed to make the acquaintance of more than one ski bunny and had his pick of luncheon companions. He reasoned he was giving Perry and Della some privacy. Now, as Della enjoyed the view of the lake, she was expecting Mason to swoosh his way again down the mountain to join her at any moment. He would greet her with his frosty cheek against hers and then go warm his hands next to the woodstove. But as the time neared one o'clock and her tummy began to grumble, Della surrendered to hunger and went back inside to make herself a sandwich.

As for the noted L.A. attorney—he was in the company of Sandra Larsen, the Hollywood mega-star. Sandra had been in search of her lawyer since she had arrived at the resort a few days prior via helicopter. She was dismayed to find out Perry Mason was unavailable for a consult, as his whereabouts were unknown. Her entourage; consisting of her personal assistant, beautician and cosmetologist were all drafted to spread out on reconnaissance missions to locate the deceptively handsome bachelor with the dark, piercing blue eyes. Their efforts paid off when they were informed by a resort maintenance worker that Mason was staying in a private cabin with friends. Even more helpful was a conversation with another employee. For a $20 bill, a snow coach driver recalled where he had picked up two guests by the names of Mason and Drake, and remembered he had delivered them to the Timberline Ridge double chairlift when the ski hill began operating at 10:00 a.m.

So it was that the famous actress just happened to arrive at the same chairlift approximately at the same time as Mr. Mason and Mr. Drake. Photographers followed behind Sandra Larsen like hungry puppies waiting to be tossed treats by their mistress, or in this case playful poses of the starlet on her Tahoe ski vacation at the newly opened Big Blue Basin Resort—of which she was a proud partial owner. The pictures would serve dual publicity duty for the all-seasons resort and Sandra Larsen. "Perry, darling! There you are!" she happily called out and attempted a herringbone ascent up the slight incline to the chairlift. But then in a well-executed pratfall she managed to topple over into Perry Mason's arms. The photographers swarmed and began snapping away at the beautiful star decked out in the latest designer ski apparel. She clung to him and laughed away her clumsiness gaily. "Thank you, Perry! I'd better stay close to you! I'm afraid I'm a little out of practice on skis."

Mason was a gentleman. "I'm sure you'll do fine; muscle memory will soon get you going again." He steadied her as she leaned heavily against his body. "May I introduce my friend and associate, Paul Drake? He's traveled with us from L.A. to enjoy the grand opening. Paul's been acting as my ski buddy. Where's yours?" Mason wondered as he attempted to extricate himself from the attractive woman's grasp. He jabbed his own ski poles into the snow to brace himself and then leaned down to scoop up the ski poles she had dropped.

Paul Drake flashed his most devastating smile to no avail. "Good morning, Miss Larsen."

"Yes hello," she smiled dismissively. She returned her attention to Mason. "I'm afraid I'm flying solo on this trip, Perry. You see Rodney and I have decided to end our little romance, he was becoming quite the drag. Motion picture executives lead a dull life compared to criminal defense lawyers handling high profile murder cases." She reached out and placed her mittened-hand on Mason's chest. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Perry handed her back the dropped poles and then took possession of his stocks. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the camera men and a curious crowd on onlookers pressing closer. "I wouldn't know, Sandra. I've not met enough motion picture executives to base an opinion on one way or another."

Sandra Larsen was keenly aware of her audience and let loose with a peel of delighted laughter. "Oh Perry! I just love you and your sense of humor!" She then looked at Paul Drake who was taking in the entire scene as just another spectator. "Tell me, Paul is it? Be a doll. You wouldn't mind if I ride up with Perry? I just hate when they call out for singles! and you are forced to ride up with a complete stranger."

Paul smiled graciously and gave her a slight bow. "Not at all. I'll meet you at the top." But he added in sotto voce, "Your Highness." He then stood back and watched as the actress and her lawyer were lifted into the air and headed up the mountainside.

Sandra Larsen sighed happily and slipped her arm through Perry's. "It really is fabulous, isn't Perry?" Her breath was visible in the cold, crisp air.

"Yes, Big Blue is quite impressive," Mason agreed as they soared above part of the El Dorado National Forest. At the lift line's end on top of Blue Mountain skiers were treated with an even more spectacular view of the turquoise, pristine gem of the Sierra Nevada range, Lake Tahoe in all its breathtaking glory.

"So, tell me, Perry dear. Just who do you mean by "us"?

"Beg your pardon?"

"Just now when you introduced to me to your big strapping friend…you said, and I quote, "he's traveled with us from L.A."

Perry thought of Della and reflexively smiled. "Oh, I'm referring to Della Street."

Sandra looked at him askance. "Della who?"

"You've met my secretary, Della."

Sandra Larsen lifted her designer sunglasses to peer curiously at the attorney over the frames. "You bring your secretary with you on vacation? Perry, darling. You must learn to enjoy life and relax. This needn't be a working vacation. Surely the woman would appreciate some time off from her demanding boss." She then took the opportunity to squeeze Mason's arm suggestively through the fabric of his ski jacket. "Tell Miss Street to run along home and I'll see to your needs the rest of this week…any needs you might have, Mr. Mason." she added seductively.

Normally never a loss for words in or out of a courtroom setting, Mason's mind grappled for an appropriate response. "Perhaps you heard of the recent train derailment near Modesto? Della happened to be on that train and was badly injured."

"Oh no! That's terrible!"

Perry explained, "Della is here with Paul and I recuperating from her injuries. I wanted to take her home, but she insisted I not miss the grand opening of the ski resort. Our firm has invested a lot of time and energy into the project, as I'm sure you're aware." The exiting slope was approaching with the warning signs of "TIPS UP!" posted below to remind skiers to have a safe landing as the chair lift deposited them on the mountain peak.

"Don't you mean your law firm, darling?"

Perry's smile was pleasant but forced-he wasn't about to expose the true nature of his relationship with Della even though he personally didn't care if the entire world knew they were in love with one another. Della Street did care and jealously guarded his professional integrity. "You know the old saying, Sandra. Behind every successful man is a woman. The same holds true for me. I'm a very fortunate man because Della is beside me. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

It was then that Sandra Larsen realized there was more to Mason and Miss Street's relationship than just employer and employee. The Hollywood golden girl didn't mind competition. After all, she had survived audition cattle calls and casting couches. She wasn't about to let one confidential secretary stand in the way of what she wanted. And she wanted to be more to Perry Mason than just a client. If this Della Street was injured—she'd just push her aside and take what she wanted.