Murder in the Mountains?
Chapter 3
"Hmm, I wonder what that was," Amanda pondered, staring into the forest. "Oh well, I guess it probably isn't anything we should worry about."
She turned around and walked towards the sauna; the masseuse followed her, still looking a bit confused.
"After all I've been through at this run down excuse for a campsite," the pathologist started, "I really do deserve a nice relaxing massage."
"And after such a boring, uneventful day, I'd be happy to give you one!" the woman trailing Amanda replied brightly, grateful to have at least somebody to talk to.
As the ladies entered the makeshift spa, Amanda's eyes seemed to grow to double their original size. First, she noticed the overturned bookcase, lying in front of the sauna door. Then her gaze fell on Mark's red face, smashed against the glass. He was banging on the door and shouting as well.
"Oh, my!" she finally exclaimed as she sprinted over to assist her friend.
Amanda couldn't remember the last time she'd been so scared. The dial on the wall was turned all the way to the hottest setting, and Mark had been in that sauna for quite some time. From the looks of it, it hadn't automatically shut off. Amanda just hoped she got that door open in time.
She hastily moved over to the wooden book case and tried to move it out of the way. Bending over, she grasped onto the top shelf and tried in vain to drag it away from the sauna entrance. Pulling until she was out of breath, she stopped and made one last attempt before admitting defeat.
Casting an annoyed look at the shocked masseuse, Amanda asked desperately, "Could you please give me a hand?"
"Uh, sure," came the reply as the other woman scrambled over.
The masseuse and Amanda each grabbed the top shelf and, slowly but surely, managed to move the book case enough so the door could be at least partially opened.
Mark burst through the door, flushed and gasping for breath. He nearly tripped on one of the "Dummies" books and stubbed his toe on the edge of the book case.
"Oh, Mark!" Amanda breathed as she ran over to him, "Are you alright? What happened?"
"I...I.. don't know," Mark began explaining, still panting. "I thought I heard something, but I didn't think it was anything important, so I ignored it. When the sauna didn't shut off after what felt like a pretty long time, I thought it must be malfunctioning. When I tried to leave, I couldn't get the door open; then I saw the bookcase."
"Mark, look at the wall," his friend instructed slowly.
He turned his head to follow Amanda's pointing finger. Then he saw the dial and the battered remnants of the timer.
"I knew something wasn't right," he mumbled bitterly under his breath.
The older man's demeanor rapidly changed. For a brief moment, Mark's eyes darkened. He didn't look surprised or curious at all. His son and Jesse were out on horseback in the mountains with Lindsay. He should have said something before. Now his son and friend's lives' could quite possibly be in grave danger. He could only pray that the tour guide would screw up.
"What do you mean, Mark?" Amanda asked after a pause.
"It's painfully obvious that someone wanted me dead," he said darkly, "and I don't have to guess to know who it was.
Jesse frantically yanked on his horse's reins, scared, lightheaded, and painfully aware of the distance he could fall if bucked off. His mare didn't respond at all, too frightened to stop galloping until it was was certain it was away from danger.
Steve was beyond the point of being scared; he wrapped his arms around his horse's neck, saying farewell to his father mentally.
Jesse started trying to comfort his horse as he noticed the narrowest part of the trail coming up. He whispered softly in its ear, meanwhile incessantly tugging on the reins.
Jesse's horse slowed to a canter, then eventually to a walk. He pulled back on the reins once more, this time more gently, and completely stopped his horse. The young doctor closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
Steve was surprised to no longer feel the rush of air around him or the horse's rapid, graceful movements. Was he dead? He forced his eyelids opened and realized that his horse had stopped and he was very close to a very steep drop.
"Oh!" Lindsay exclaimed in surprise, though only because Sloan and his friend were alive. "Are you guys Okay! I don't have any idea what could have caused them to act like that!"
"We... we're fine," Jesse attempted to answer, "but I'll walk back if that's alright with you."
"Turn your horses around, then," Lindsay instructed gloomily.
The two friends complied, riding their horses extra carefully until they reached a part of the trail wide enough to dismount. Lindsay helped the cop out of the saddle, then went to give Jesse a hand.
Steve looked around while the other two were busy, and a small, jagged rock caught his eye. He walked over and picked it up. This rock didn't look like any of the others on the trail, which were darker and covered with dirt. The lieutenant shrugged, dropped the rock, and returned to his horse.
The four friends were gathered in front of Mark's cabin that evening, discussing the strange events of the day.
"You were what!" Steve asked incredulously after Mark had explained the murder attempt.
"I was trapped in the spa sauna," his father repeated, unfazed. "The wires inside the timer were twisted together so the sauna wouldn't shut off after ten minutes. Also, the temperature dial was turned up high."
"Do you have any ideas as to who might have done it?" Jesse inquired, eager to help solve a mystery.
"Jesse, I know who did it," the older doctor said as he turned to his son. "Steve, you need to arrest Lindsay right now! Amanda said that she saw her walking out of the spa right after they heard the noise in the woods. She's the only one who could have been in there to do that!"
"Yeah, I had that feeling too when she decided to walk behind us on the trail. Then, for seemingly no reason our horses spooked on the worst part of the path. Look, Dad, I know something is up, but we don't have any proof. And besides," Steve added, "I think there is more to this than it appears. She doesn't seem like the type of person to hold a grudge. Maybe someone else is involved."
"What are you suggesting?" Amanda asked warily, not really liking where the conversation was heading.
"We wait until she really messes up, then confront her. Maybe we can get answers out of her."
"Great. Does that mean we have to stay in this dump for the rest of the week and try not to be murdered by a maniac tour guide out to kill us all!" Jesse asked nervously, his voice rising with each word.
"That pretty much sums it up," Steve replied, smiling politely.
"Well, we better be careful," Mark warned. "If she knows we're onto her..."
"Hey, what are you guys doing out this late?" Lindsay interrupted as she approached the group.
"Uh, just... talking," Jesse replied dumbly, plastering a fake smile on his face.
"Well, it's getting late. Lights out."
With that, the tour guide huffed and marched away. So, she thought, the old man was onto her, as was the rest of his group. She guessed that they would have to be pretty clever to outwit her. She would not fail.
As the foursome went to their cabins, each was filled with overpowering worry. None could let their guard down even for a minute.
As the group met for breakfast in the activity center the next morning, they were surprised not to find any staff in the building. Instead of the usual bored worker serving food, they found Lindsay dressed up in an apron. She looked ready to cater to anyone who sat down at one of the cheap, plastic tables.
"What can I get you guys this morning?" she asked, pulling out a notepad and pencil.
"Where is everybody?" Mark asked, ignoring her question.
"Oh, the three guys got up early, grabbed a bite to eat here, then hit the trails for a day-long excursion. The couple was here not long ago; I think they are going out on horseback to one of our easier trails."
"Easier trails?" Jesse complained under his breath. "Then why did we have to go on the harder one?"
The tour guide pinned him with a glare, then gave him another mini-lecture. "Because, it is one of our most scenic trails. I was giving you a private tour. You know, you should appreciate the fact that I spent my time to ensure your safety and to make sure you didn't get lost!"
"No," Mark took back the conversation, "where are the employees?"
Lindsay looked at him nervously for a moment, then explained, "The masseuse said her talents were being wasted because there were only two women, besides me. I let the others go because almost none of you visited the activity center except to eat."
"Well, I'm starved," the lieutenant declared as he took a seat at one of the tables. "I'll have some pancakes and juice."
"Pancakes?" Lindsay asked in a confused voice.
"Yeah, that's what I had yesterday."
"Oh, well, I don't know how to make them. How about cereal?"
"That would be fine," Mark answered sweetly. "And please just give us a new, sealed box for us to share. I hate stale cereal."
Lindsay pinned him with a death glare and went to fill their order. How dare he be so bold and practically accuse her like that! She was sure they wouldn't eat anything that was prepared by her now, but maybe they wouldn't care about the drink!
"Don't forget my orange juice!" Steve shouted as she was leaving.
About five minutes later, she returned with a box of "Fruity Hoops" and four glasses of orange juice.
"Enjoy," she said, her voice dripping with venom, "I'm sorry, but this is the only kind we have."
With that, she turned and hurried back into the kitchen to wait.
A hand grabbed Steve's arm as he lifted the juice glass to his lips. Looking up, he saw it was his father who had stopped the motion.
"Steve, don't drink that! Who knows what she did to it!" Mark scolded in a hushed tone.
"Here, Steve, give the glasses to me," Jesse instructed.
The others looked on, surprised and amused at his tactic. Carefully, he took his own glass and emptied the contents into a nearby plant. He was halfway done with the second glass when Lindsay stepped out of the kitchen and saw him.
"What are you doing!" she demanded, arms folded across her chest.
"Uh... this plant looked like it needed water, and the only thing we had was orange juice so I just poured some in," the young man finished lamely, hiding the emptied juice glass behind his back.
"Right. I'm guessing you didn't like the orange juice? You could have just told me, though it was nice you didn't want to hurt my feelings." Her voice was sugar sweet.
"Well, you know, I hate pulpy juice, and this stuff had way too much pulp in it."
She studied him a moment, then spoke evenly, "It's pulp free."
Jesse looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He could have kicked himself for saying such dimwitted things. If she didn't know they were onto her before, they sure did now. Mark and Steve were going to hate him for being such an idiot!
"You know," Mark interjected, trying to save his colleague, "I thought it tasted pulpy too. I guess they're doing false advertising. Actually, I think we'll just eat this outside where it's warm. I have bottled water in the cabin."
As Steve rose from the table and everyone left, Lindsay's anger boiled. They were just taunting her! They managed to get out of all her elaborate plans. How could they foresee everything she was about to do! Oh, well, she would just have to consult more of her "How to" books.
Mark and Amanda picked at the sugary, tasteless cereal, while Jesse and Steve seemed to almost inhale it. The older doctor and the pathologist knew how unhealthy it was, but the youngest doctor didn't seem to care. In no time, the box was completely empty.
"I'm so tired of staying here, doing the same things. I want to call C.J. and Dion, but I can't get a signal on my cell phone," Amanda complained after staring at the wilderness around her for a few minutes.
"We can't just walk up to the tour guide and say, 'Sorry, Lindsay, but we really don't want to be killed by you. Could you please give us keys to the truck out here and tell us how to get to a main road?'" Steve pointed out. "We need to get her to do something really stupid. Then I can intimidate her into telling me who else is behind this."
"How do you know someone else is involved?" Mark asked.
"I'm just speculating, Dad."
Not a half hour after they left, Lindsay sauntered out of the activity center and approached Steve.
Mark inwardly groaned as he watched Lindsay coming towards them. He did not like the idea of being all alone in the mountains with a murder. The other staff and vacationers, at least for the time being, were all gone; it wasn't hard to imagine why. If they didn't play their cards right, they could all end up dead.
"If you are bored, how about you go on a hike?" she suggested innocently, "I'll show you which trail to take, but I want to be back here to serve lunch if one of the other guests come back."
Steve didn't know what to do. Would it really be a good idea to be out on an unfamiliar trail with nobody but a murderous guide around? Though, he might be able to catch her in a murder attempt this time. He would go, but he needed to prepare first.
"Sure," he said, forcing a grin, "but I have a killer headache. Let me just take some aspirin, and then I'll be ready."
Nodding to Lindsay, Steve dragged himself back to his cabin, rubbing his head; he had to make it look convincing.
The trio of doctors watched him go, took one look at the tour guide's strangely happy face, then quickly followed the lieutenant.
"You really have that bad of a headache?" Jesse questioned, concerned about the way his friend was acting.
"No," Steve replied after glancing behind him to make sure Lindsay was far away. "I need to get something from the cabin. I didn't want her to get suspicious."
"Why is it suspicious to go to your cabin for a minute?" Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow.
Steve sighed, quickened his pace, and walked into his cabin. The doctors watched as Steve ripped open one of his bags, then stuffed his pockets with rubber gloves and evidence bags. He also took handcuffs and his gun.
"That should do it," Steve said casually as he exited and closed the cabin door.
"You carry those around with you wherever you go?" Jesse asked, bewildered.
"Well," Steve stated, "you never know when there's going to be a murder. Or, in this case, attempted murder."
"I hope you're right about the 'attempted' part," Mark whispered; no one else heard the quiet remark.