Killer Christmas Cozies Page 7

  I opened one eye and peeked at her. “Really?”

  “Okay. Maybe I thought we could do shopping and see if anyone remembers seeing Bitsie and Helen in town Saturday afternoon.”

  I sighed. I knew she was right, we needed to get up and go investigate. However, my head wasn’t currently up to the task.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ophelia said, peering down within an inch of my face. “You don’t look too good.”

  I gave her a shove and sat up. “Nothing. I just need some water. This altitude is killing me.”

  I could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t believe a word I said. “Fine. I’ll go get you some water while you get dressed.”

  “Coffee,” I croaked.

  “Water,” she said as she walked out the door.

  Groaning, I threw the covers off me and started setting out clothes. I then cracked open my door to see if anyone was in the restroom. Coast was clear. I finished my morning routine in fifteen minutes, then scooted back inside my bedroom to get dressed.

  “Water’s on the dresser,” Ophelia said as I closed the bedroom door.

  “Thanks.”

  I took a huge gulp, grateful for the cold, soothing liquid. Even though coffee would have been better. I threw on black skinny jeans with a hideous Christmas sweater complete with dancing Santa and reindeer. I zipped up my boots then stood up with my arms out ready for appraisal.

  “That’s absolutely hideous,” Ophelia said.

  I smiled. “It’ll help me blend in. I look all sweet and Christmas-like. No one will think twice about answering our questions.”

  Ophelia gave me a wry look. “If you say so.”

  We grabbed our purses then headed upstairs. Helen and Bitsie were in the kitchen making breakfast.

  “Hey, you two,” Helen called. “Do you guys want some breakfast?”

  “No thanks,” Ophelia said. “Holly and I are going to go into town and see what Christmas sales are going on. We’ll grab some coffee and a snack at a café.”

  “Have fun,” Bitsie said as we walked out the door.

  The ride to Winterdale was short, and a few minutes later we were slowly creeping along the two-lane road straight through town. According to the sign, Winterdale boasted over twenty-five thousand people. We passed day spas, high-end boutiques, tourist shops, coffee shops, bars, and countless other merchants flooding the downtown portion of the town. Overall, Winterdale definitely had a young vibe to it thanks to the local university.

  “It’s not like this is Kansas City,” I whined to Ophelia as visions of me still sleeping permeated my brain. “No one is going to be fighting for after-Christmas sales.”

  “I wish I knew what stores Bitsie and Helen had gone into,” Ophelia said, ignoring my remark and pulling into an empty space on the square.

  Our first stop was a high-end boutique that sold trendy clothes we could never afford on a teacher’s salary. We made small talk with the girl behind the counter as we rummaged through locally made jewelry.

  “We’ve enjoyed our stay here at the Chateau and Ski Resort,” Ophelia said as she dug in her purse and took out her cell phone. “Despite the tragedy that happened, we’ve made new friends.”

  “I heard about what happened,” the young girl said. “I didn’t know the man who was killed, but it’s still such a tragedy.”

  “Here’s a picture of some of us girls who are staying in a condo,” Ophelia said, handing her the cell phone. It was the picture of the four of us the night we met. “That’s our first night together.”

  The girl took the phone and looked at the picture, smiling at the four of us toasting to a good night. “Looks like you guys had fun.”

  “I think the girls in the photo are from this area,” Ophelia lied. “Do you know them?”

  The girl looked closer then shook her head. “I’ve never seen them before.”

  “Well, they said great things about this store,” I said. “You have beautiful pieces.”

  We offered a few more pleasantries then went to the next store—another dead end. In fact, we hit a wall at every store we went into. Either Bitsie and Helen hadn’t left a lasting impression on anyone, or the workers that we spoke to weren’t on duty Saturday afternoon…because no one remembered seeing Bitsie or Helen.

  “I say you make good on the promise of coffee and pastry,” I said, noting the time on my cell phone. “It’s a little after eleven and I haven’t eaten today.”

  Ophelia chuckled. “Fine. Let’s find a coffee shop.”

  I scanned the stores on the square, my eyes making instant connection with a coffee shop across the street. I took off at a near sprint, practically tasting the double-shot mocha already.

  The tinkling of a bell overhead alerted the lady behind the counter of our presence. A slightly overweight woman with short brown hair looked up and greeted us. “Welcome to Katie’s Coffee Shop. I’m Katie. All our Christmas pastries and cookies are on sale today. Take your time and order when you’re ready.”

  I sauntered over to the display case and took in all the goodies. On the sale rack were cranberry scones, candy cane cupcakes, and gingerbread men. You didn’t have to twist my arm.

  “I’ll take a cranberry scone, a gingerbread man, and a large mocha.”

  Ophelia snickered. “Hungry much?”

  I shot her an evil eye. “I’ve been needing this for hours. You’re the one that dragged me out of bed to go shopping.”

  Katie smiled as she started the process for my mocha. “Are you girls staying at the chateau?”

  “Yes,” I said over the hiss of the coffee machine. “We’ve really enjoyed our visit.”

  “A shame about that young man dying.” Katie loaded the top of the cup with mounds of delicious whipped cream. “Sprinkles?”

  “Goodness yes,” I laughed. I’d never been offered Christmas sprinkles on my mocha before.

  “Did you know him?” Ophelia asked as she pointed to the gingerbread man she wanted.

  “I’m afraid so. I’ve lived in Winterdale for about twenty-seven years now. Hard not to know everyone.”

  Ophelia perked up at that response and dug out her cell phone once again. “Holly and I are staying in the condos at the resort, and we’ve had such a great time. Here’s a picture of our first night together.”

  I noticed she didn’t mention Bitsie or Helen being in the photo.

  Katie took the cell phone and frowned. I took this for a good sign.

  “You might recognize the other girls in the photo. They’re at the condo, too. I think they came in town on Saturday and went shopping. They’re both from Colorado Springs.”

  “Colorado Springs, you say?” Katie continued staring at the picture.

  “Yes,” I said. “One of them is from Wyoming, and the other was born and raised in Colorado Springs.”

  “Oh,” Katie said as she handed the phone back to Ophelia. “That’s so strange. I waited on them both Saturday, and I swear I knew one of those girls. But I guess not.”

  My heart skipped at her words. She thought she knew one of them…but that made no sense. Bitsie and Helen had both claimed this was their first time in Winterdale.

  “Which one?” Ophelia asked.

  “This one,” the woman said pointing. “Only she looks different. When she used to live here and attend the university, she was a lot heavier and her hair looked nothing like that.”

  Chapter 11

  “This is so not good!” I exclaimed for the third time on our way back to the resort. I couldn’t help it. My mind was having a hard time putting the pieces together.

  “Obviously Helen has been lying to us the whole time,” Ophelia said as she pulled onto the blacktop highway that would take us to the resort.

  “I’ve always said something weird was going on with those three girls. I think Helen is the girl that Margot and Chloe were making fun of the first night we arrived. Which leads me to believe that maybe Helen is here for more than a little Christmas skiing.”


  “But murder?” Ophelia asked. “I have a hard time picturing that. She seems so meek.”

  I scoffed. “That could just be a ruse. I’m thinking she somehow found out Andrew was back and she decided to make her move.”

  Ophelia shrugged. “I suppose that could be true. I don’t think we can believe anything Helen has told us so far.”

  “Exactly. Do we really think she was sitting in the condo, alone, for over two hours Saturday afternoon? I don’t think so.”

  “Simmer down there, Sherlock. Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.”

  I scowled at Ophelia and then pointed to a parking space mid-way between the chateau and our condo. “Park here. I want to go inside and double check on tonight’s activity time. It’s the white elephant gift exchange.” I turned to Ophelia and grinned. “You know how much I love white elephant exchanges.”

  Ophelia parked and we hurried into the chateau and found the activities table. Cocktails started at five, and the white elephant gift exchange started at six.

  “Perfect,” I said. “I say we go back to the condo, grab some lunch, and clear our minds by doing some skiing.”

  “And then sometime before we leave tonight we talk with Helen. We need to know what’s going on.”

  I stopped suddenly and pointed to an empty computer that was set up for guests. The sign on the wall above the computer said that since the chateau was nestled back in the mountains and cell service could be spotty, guests were more than welcome to use the computer.

  “I say we do some stalking of our own.” I dragged Ophelia over to the computer and signed on under my name to a well-known social media site. “Let’s look up Margot and Chloe first.”

  I typed in Margot’s name and was shocked to see there was very little activity on her wall.

  “That’s weird,” I said. “They talk nonstop about posting pictures, yet I don’t really see anything on here.”

  “I think they use Instagram more,” Ophelia said. “I heard them talking about it.” She pulled out her phone and hit the app. She then typed in Margot Martin and the screen filled with dozens of pictures. Ophelia scrolled down even further, and the dozens became hundreds. “Holy cow, these girls are all about posting pictures of themselves together.”

  “There’s one with a video sign on the picture. Looks pretty recent. Push it and let’s see what’s going on.”

  The cell service was so slow it took a few seconds to load, but eventually Margot and Chloe filled the screen. Both girls were obviously clubbing, the gyrating bodies and strobe lights a huge clue. Margot’s excited voice told everyone they were going to be in Winterdale next week and they’d be posting pictures and videos for their fans.

  “Is it weird they have fans?” I asked. “I mean, they don’t really seem to have day jobs. They’ve never mentioned what they do in Denver.”

  Ophelia laughed. “That’s how these people are. They think everyone hangs on to their every word. When you add in the mix all the social medias out in the world, people have a tendency to become very narcissistic.”

  “How many followers do they have?” I asked as I turned back to the computer to pull up Helen’s name.”

  “Pretty much the same number. Margot has about five thousand and Chloe just under that.”

  “What!” I exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous! There’s no way they can know all those people!”

  Ophelia laughed. “You can be so naïve sometimes.”

  “No wonder they think they are important people, they have thousands of followers.” I turned back to the computer and silently perused Helen’s Facebook wall. Compared to Margot and Chloe, Helen’s wall was pretty tame. “Lots of pictures of books and of the library.” I clicked on the photos. “No photos of her when she was overweight. No pictures of her alma mater. That’s interesting.”

  “What about Bitsie?”

  I searched for Bitsie Carpenter and found she had her page blocked.

  “Wonder why all the privacy?” Ophelia asked. “I mean, I have privacy on who can see my friends and what can be posted on my wall for non-friends to see, but Bitsie pretty much has a complete block.”

  I bit my lip in concentration. “What about searching them on Google?” I asked. “Think I should try that route?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Let’s look up Helen since we know she’s lied and that she actually did attend the university here in Winterdale.”

  I logged out of the social media site and pulled up Google. I typed in Helen Beckett and then hit return. The screen quickly filled with links. I scanned the numerous links and saw the first three were different social media links where she could be found. Another link had her name and the Colorado Springs library, while another was for a Helen Beckett that was a lawyer and had nothing whatsoever to do with her.

  “There doesn’t seem to be anything juicy here,” I said, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but I thought maybe something good would stand out. Like maybe an arrest record that had her labeled a crazy stalker.

  I typed in both Margot and Chloe’s names, and just like with Helen’s there wasn’t anything juicy that stood out. Margot and Chloe were both obvious socialites, but that didn’t make them crazed killers. At least, I had to tell myself that.

  Ophelia whistled when I clicked on one link to read the article. “Wow, looks like Margot and Chloe both come from wealthy, affluent families in Denver. This article has Margot’s family donating money to build another wing on a hospital. That’s pretty major.”

  I didn’t say anything, just clicked out of the article. Scanning the list of links, most were of the girls’ immediate family and the many contributions they made to Denver.

  “Makes more sense as to why they feel they are mini celebrities,” Ophelia said begrudgingly. “I guess in some ways they are. I mean, I can’t really see what they contribute themselves, but their families are obviously very community oriented.”

  “Let’s check out Bitsie,” I said.

  Ophelia chuckled. “I don’t think her real name is Bitsie, so I’m not sure what exactly you’ll find.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her called by her real name.” I turned in my seat to face Ophelia. “What do you think Bitsie stands for?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “Could be anything. Heck, it could be a nickname because of her size. She’s not exactly a giant of a woman. Maybe when she was younger she was ity bity and her family called her Bitsie for her size.”

  I let out a disgusted breath. “We’re gonna need to find out her real name.”

  Ophelia chuckled. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “I am. I don’t like the thought of sleeping next to a killer.”

  Ophelia turned serious. “Well, there is that.”

  “I’ll try and look up different versions of Bitsie tonight while you’re out flirting with men.”

  Ophelia got up from her chair. “There’s only one elf for me right now. And you have to admit, he’s a hunk of a man.”

  I laughed. “He is that. So while you’re flirting with your elf at the party tonight, I’ll do some more research while I’m sitting alone by the fireplace watching all the couples dancing and having a great time.”

  I meant it to be a joke, but it came out harsh and biting. Obviously my jealously was rearing its ugly head.

  Ophelia frowned and hooked her arms through mine. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight? We’re only here for another day. I can blow the little elf off and be with you tonight.”

  “No! Go and have fun with him. Don’t worry about me. I was really just teasing. You know I enjoy people watching. I’ll have a couple drinks, sit by the fireplace, and watch the other couples and be completely happy.”

  “Okay,” Ophelia grinned mischievously at me. “You don’t have to twist my arm too much.”

  We strolled through the chateau, ready to head back to the condo when Ophel
ia and I spotted Clive standing by the fireplace talking with guests.

  “Now that we have a timeline to work with, I want to ask Clive where he was Saturday afternoon,” I said.

  Ophelia stifled a groan. “You really aren’t going to let this go until you solve this, are you?”

  “Just a couple quick questions, I promise.”

  “Sure, it’s not like we have anything else do to.”

  “C’mon.” I dragged her over to stand next to Clive.

  I waited impatiently for him to finish speaking with the guests before bombarding him. “Can I ask you a couple questions?”

  Clive looked down his nose at me. “What now?”

  I was undeterred. In fact, now that I knew a little bit more about his background, I kinda understood the haughtiness he exuded. Not that I was excusing his behavior, just that I understood where it came from. “I know you told Sheriff Morgan you were working Saturday, but what time did you report to work?”

  Clive frowned. “This is your business, how?”

  “It’s really for me,” Ophelia said quickly. “I just want to make sure I had my own timeline right. I didn’t have a watch on me, so when I asked Margot what time she came in off the mountain to find you and talk with you, she said she thought it was around two.” I tried to control my face so Clive wouldn’t know that Ophelia had just told a bald-face lie. “Would that seem about right?”

  “Margot said she was with me most of the afternoon?” Clive asked confused.

  “Wasn’t she?” I asked, realizing the direction Ophelia was going with the line of questioning.

  “Well, yes. I guess. I just can’t get caught fraternizing with guests is all.”

  Was this a lie or the truth?

  “But your sister was with you the whole time, right?” I asked for clarification.

  Clive frowned. I could see the wheels turning in his head. If he said no, she wasn’t with him and Margot, then Chloe would have no alibi. If he said yes, then he ran the risk of contradicting anything Margot and Chloe may have told the sheriff.

  “I’m not quite sure,” Clive finally said.