"You were telling me about the last time you saw Mr. Williams. Sunday evening, after skiing?"

"Right."

"What time was that?"

"Five, at a guess."

"You didnt have dinner together?"

"I told you no. We didnt necessarily all eat together every night."

"Who did you have dinner with?"

"Why are you bothering me with useless questions? My brother is dead. It was a car accident, plain and simple! Cant you just leave me the h.e.l.l alone?"

"For what its worth, I am sorry for your loss. But I have my reasons, and my questions are not useless. Dinner, Sunday night?"

"I went with Jason and Alan and his girlfriend Sophie."

"What did the others do, Jeremy, Rob, and Ewan?"

She took a deep breath and studied the wooden Santa Claus on the table. Jolly old Saint Nick. f.u.c.k him too. "I dont know. They went their way, we went ours."

"What did you do after dinner?"

"Came back here. Alan and Sophie like to go to bed early. Theyre tired after a days skiing."

"Did Jason go out again?"

She knew exactly what Jason had done and Ewan as well, but she wasnt going to tell the cops. She tried to look as if she were struggling to remember. "Sorry, Mr. Winters," she said at last, "but I cant say for sure. I didnt see him leave, but he might have." He had, in fact, phoned Lorraine, his bootie call, from the sidewalk outside the restaurant. He drove the group back to the B&B, went to his room for a few minutes, and then left, without telling anyone where he was going. Jason and Ewan were a couple of tom cats, always on the make. And that was none of this d.a.m.ned cops business. She looked at the tissue in her hands-it was shredded to ribbons. She wiped at her nose with the back of her sleeve. Winters got a box of tissues from the table and handed it to her. She pulled one out, and blew her nose, resisting the urge to be polite and say thank you.

He walked to the window and looked out on the snow-covered garden, allowing Wendy a few moments of privacy to wipe her face and compose herself.

Sunday night shed been lying in bed, not able to sleep, when she heard footsteps in the hall and Jasons voice. A female said something in return. Jason had been alone at breakfast the next morning.

Sergeant Winters turned from the window. "You didnt see Ewan Williams again, after approximately five oclock on Sunday evening?"

She wiped her eyes. "No."

"Ill need to speak with the rest of your group, Ms. Wyatt-Yarmouth." He handed her his card. She took it. "Id appreciate it if youd ask them to give me a call the minute they get in."

Nice words: Appreciate it. As if he wouldnt hesitate to clap them in irons if they didnt call.

He hadnt touched his coffee or the homemade cookies. Mrs. Carmine would be disappointed. Wendy could imagine the old bat leaning up against the kitchen door, ears flapping.

"We want to help," she said, getting to her feet to show him out.

Mrs. Carmine came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her ap.r.o.n.

"Id like to have a look at Ewans room, if I may," he asked her. "Have you cleaned the room since they died?"

"Of course I have. And I removed their things. Wendy wasnt up to it, so Sophie helped Kathy pack their suitcases."

"Id still like to have a look."

Mrs. Carmine led him back through the common room and up the stairs. Wendy threw herself into a chair. She heard Sergeant Winters ask Mrs. C if she had noticed anything out of order. She answered in the negative.

It wasnt long before they came back down. Wendy was still sitting in the common room, a pile of soggy tissues on her lap.

This was all such a nightmare. Her parents wanted her to wait in Trafalgar and go home together. She wanted to leave but the effort of organizing a flight home seemed beyond her.

It was just so unfair.

Mrs. C gave her what she probably thought was a sympathetic smile. Wendy got to her feet and followed them to the hall, wanting to see for herself that the cop got through the door and wasnt about to jump out and say "One more question."

"Isnt he just the cutest thing," Mrs. Carmine said, as the two women watched John Winters walk to his van. "His wife is a famous supermodel."

Yeah, right. Kate Moss secretly living here in back of nowhere British Columbia.

"Enjoy your nap, dear." Mrs. Carmine returned to her kitchen.

Wendy made major noise heading up the stairs. She used the bathroom and then tiptoed back down.

Never mind a nap. She needed to go shopping.

Lucky Smith came out of her cramped office at the back of Mid-Kootenay Adventure Vacations. It was past four oclock and the sun had dipped behind Koola Glacier. She zipped up her bulky winter coat and wrapped her beloved hand-woven blue scarf twice around her neck. Lucky didnt normally indulge in luxuries, but shed fallen so in love with a scarf shed seen being created on an old wooden loom in Crawford Bay that, after months of agonizing about the cost, shed gone back to buy one.

The shop was busy. Andy, her husband and partner in the business, was helping a young woman, an outsider, choose a ski jacket. Flower, their employee, was ringing up a pair of gloves and woolen socks for a local.

A man examined snowshoes hanging on the back wall, and a young mother held her toddler up to see the display of nature and eco-adventure books. The child pointed to one; his mom took it off the shelf, and without checking the price, carried it to the counter. It was the 28th of December and, so far, they hadnt had too many Christmas returns.

In years past the company had offered guided snowmobile tours and cross-country ski trips into the mountains, but as Andy got older and the children, Samwise and Moonlight, grew up and left home, theyd given up that part of the business and concentrated on the shop in the winter. The rest of the year, they offered guided hourly and multi-day hiking and kayaking trips.

The bell over the door tinkled as a group of vacationers came in. Laughing, they shook heads full of fresh snow and stamped slush-covered boots.

Lucky waved her fingers at Flower, and smiled good-bye to Andy. He gave her a wink so suggestive Lucky felt the color rising into her cheeks. Since Moonlight had moved out Andys libido seemed to have gone into overdrive. And Lucky didnt mind one bit.

She wouldnt be at all surprised if he told Flower he was going for coffee and hurried home after his wife. Even Flower might think an hours coffee break was a bit much. It had been easier when they were young and operated a shoe-string operation. Not having to worry about employees or inquisitive children, Andy would toss the sign on the door to closed and take Lucky into the broom closet.

Those had been good days for sure.

The glove-and-sock-purchasing local said hi to Lucky and left the store. She prepared to follow.

"Lucky," Flower said. "Can I speak to you for a minute?" Her face was drawn into serious lines.

"Sure." Lucky rounded the counter. "Whats the matter?"

Flower lowered her voice. Lucky leaned closer in order to hear. "I think weve been robbed."

"What?"

"See those goggles over there? End of the table beside the helmets?"

Lucky looked. The table featured a display of ski accessories. Helmets, gloves, a pair of very expensive goggles.

"Half hour ago, there were two goggles."

Lucky looked around the store. The outsider had decided that white wasnt what she wanted and asked Andy to find her a colorful jacket in the same size. She carried a shoulder bag not large enough to conceal anything bigger than a deck of cards. The man looking at snowshoes took a pair down from the wall. Unless hed stuffed them into his coat pocket he didnt have the goggles.

The snow-covered group picked their way through the goods. Just browsing.

"Are you sure?" Lucky asked Flower. "Maybe Andy sold it."

"Ive been the only one on cash for the last couple of hours. It didnt go through me, Lucky. There were three of them sitting there when I got back from lunch. Andy sold one about an hour ago. Half-hour or so ago, I noticed that the goggles-both of them-had been knocked askew. I was about to go and adjust them, when we got busy. Next time I looked up, one was left and no one around who might have picked them up while thinking about buying them."

Andy escorted his customer to the check out. Shed chosen a tight-fitting pink ski jacket that, in Luckys opinion, did absolutely nothing for a woman in her fifties with hair dyed as red as a rotting tomato.

Flower smiled at her and accepted the garment. "Ive had my eyes on this myself," she said. "It looks fabulous on you."

The woman beamed and pulled out a credit card.

Lucky drew Andy to the side and told him what Flower had told her.

He sighed heavily. "Can you do a quick search of the store? Look under tables and check the change room. If nothing, Ill call the cops, although thatll be a waste of time."

He looked so dejected Lucky knew shed been right-hed been planning on following her home.

Chapter Ten.

Molly Smith worked her shift in robot mode. She guided traffic around the mess of cars on George Street. A car with Florida plates and no winter tires slid off the road into a ditch. A fight broke out at the Bishop and Nun, apparently over a girl who decided that shed found someone more to her liking. She answered a call of a theft from, of all places, her parents store. An expensive pair of ski goggles, allegedly s.n.a.t.c.hed in the middle of the day in the middle of a crowed shop.

Shed seen Lorraine LeBlanc wandering down Front Street, her face white and her gaze blank. Smith hadnt spoken to her since Christmas Eve so she pulled up to ask how the girl was doing. Lorraine had tugged at the straps of her big bag and basically told Smith to take up s.e.x and traveling.

She had not been called to report to the Chief Constable. Her fellow officers continued to speak to her without sneers or smothered laughter or looks of pity.

Shortly before six oclock, she headed back to the station ready to close out her shift. Jim Denton smiled at her as she unzipped her jacket and pulled off her gloves. "Plans for tonight, Molly?"

Plans? Other than finding a redirection for her life?

"Nothing. Uh, has the CC left?"

"Long ago. Meeting at city council. Must be as boring as all h.e.l.l."

"You got that right." Barb rounded the corner. "Hi, Molly. I saw your mom and dad at the fundraiser for the environmental coalition the other night. I talked to your dad for a while. h.e.l.l never say so, of course, but hes so proud of you." Barb smiled at Denton. "Remember what it was like to be young, Jim? When our parents cared about what we did?"

"I was never that young," he said. "My kids would rather die than admit their old mans a cop."

Barb laughed. Everyone knew that Jim Dentons two children doted on their dad.

Smith searched around for a mouse hole to crawl into. Finding nothing suitable, she said to Barb, "Anything of importance happening? Say between the Chief and Sergeant Winters?"

"Steam was almost pouring from the top of Johns head, he was in such a fever to speak to the boss. You know I wouldnt tell you anything they talked about, Molly, but it doesnt matter as they shut the door. See you tomorrow, guys."

Tomorrow. Would she still be working here tomorrow?

"Are you okay, Molly?" Denton said, as the door closed behind Barb. "You dont look too well."

"Just the cold. It always makes my face red."

"Id say youre the opposite, very pale."

Dawn Solway came in, stomping snow off her boots. "One more shift, should I live so long, and Im outa here. Hawaii here I come."

Molly Smith had never been to tropical climes. She liked the winter too much. At this moment, however, Hawaii was looking like a promising destination. Although Outer Mongolia might be even better.

"Going by yourself, Dawn?" Denton asked.

Solway winked. "Top secret. Id tell you, but then Id have to kill you." They could hear her laughing as she headed down the corridor.

"Someones in a good mood," Denton said. "Unlike the thundercloud standing in front of me."

Smith walked around the desk to stand beside the dispatcher. She leaned over and whispered, "Jim, if you hear anything about, well about me, in the next couple of days, Id appreciate it if youd let me know."

"What are you going on about, Molly? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Id like a heads up, thats all." She straightened. "Now Im going to get drunk."

"Molly, wait."

Waving over her shoulder she went to the constables office to close off her shift. They couldnt fire her outright; she could take her case to the Union. She didnt know if shed do that-it would all be just too embarra.s.sing.

She stepped out the back door into the street. A light snow was falling, and the weather report on the radio had told her to expect close to twenty centimeters overnight. That was almost ten inches. It would be a great day on the mountain.

Her heart lifted a bit at the thought of going skiing. She was off tomorrow; shed come in today in the middle of her four days off as a favor to Brad Noseworthy, who wanted to watch his fifteen-year-old daughter play an important hockey game. According to Brad, the girl was so good she was on track to make the Womens Olympic team.

She took the short cut down the alley toward her apartment, watching her footing as she walked. The path hadnt been cleared and it would turn to ice soon enough. Shed told Jim Denton she was going to get drunk. Sounded like a great idea, but she didnt have anywhere to go. She was so well known in this town, both as Moonlight Smith and Constable Smith, that if she pulled up a stool in some low-life bar, or even some high-end bar, everyone would be discussing it over their morning coffee. She could call her friend, Christa. But their relationship had been strained almost to the breaking point-perhaps beyond it-when Christa had been beaten up by a stalker. At least Charlie Ba.s.sing was doing well-deserved time in the lockup. Smith did some arithmetic and realized that hed be eligible for parole any day now. Unlikely hed come back to Trafalgar: too much would have happened to him in court and in prison for him to maintain his strange obsession with Christa. It wasnt as if shed been his girlfriend, or even a close friend. He had no ties to Trafalgar, and no ties to Christa. Shed be free of him, Smith was sure, but it was unlikely the two women would ever again share that casual friendship which had made them as close as sisters.

She waited for traffic to clear and watched an elderly lady on the other side of the street picking her way through the snow with only a cane for support. The light turned green and Smith crossed. She was about to ask the woman if she needed help when she turned into a shop doorway.

Light and laughter spilled out the back of Feuilles de Menthe, the restaurant next door to Mollys apartment. She walked past, feeling nothing but sad and lonely. In any anonymous city, shed go to the restaurant, after changing out of uniform, take a quiet table in the back and settle in with a good book, a gla.s.s of wine, and the days special. But here someone was almost sure to ask her to join them, and be offended if she refused.