I waited, knowing Edwin would tell the story of how he got us the slope time at the pace he chose, no matter how much I might want to rush him.

  “I got us a private lesson with the lodge’s ski instructor, Ridge Tragger. Pierce and I need to brush up on our skills, and you said you’ve never skied before. I thought it was the perfect choice.” He sighed. “I’m convinced that Tate is a talented skier and won’t need the lesson. Is there anything that man can’t do?”

  As luck would have it, Edwin was right about Tate’s skiing skills. Just as we approached the ski shop, Tate took off down the hill on a set of skis. He expertly wove back and forth down the mountain. He never came close to running off-course or hitting another skier. At the bottom of the mountain, a cloud of snow kicked up in the air as he brought himself to a complete stop. When the snow settled, he waved up at us.

  Pierce clicked his tongue. “I think it would be boring to be good at everything. Where’s the uniqueness in that?”

  Edwin smiled. “You’re right, hon. There’s a bunch of stuff we’re bad at. That’s what makes us perfect for each other. Even better, we’re bad at completely different things, which mean we complement each other.”

  “Are you the Yule party?” a man asked.

  When I turned around, I found myself looking into the face of Ridge Tragger. He scowled when he saw me standing with Pierce and Edwin.

  He pointed his clipboard at me. “You! What are you doing here?”

  Edwin looked from the ski instructor to me. “You two know each other?”

  “Not exactly,” I said with a red face.

  “She was at my cabin last night accusing me of murder!” Ridge said.

  “Darby, you have to stop going around and doing that,” Pierce said. “It’s going to be impossible for you to meet someone if murder is all you talk about. You have to think about your future.”

  “I don’t just talk about murder,” I muttered.

  Edwin and Pierce shared a look, as if they weren’t so sure about that.

  “I’m not giving her a ski lesson,” Ridge said, and started to leave.

  “Wait!” Edwin said. “We paid for this lesson. You’re obligated to give it to us.”

  I waved my hand. “Edwin and Pierce, you two take the lesson. I’m happy to sit this one out.”

  Edwin frowned.

  Ridge folded his arms. “I’ll give the two of you a lesson. Just not her.”

  Pierce and Edwin looked at each other.

  I made a shooing gesture. “Go. I don’t mind. Really.” It was true. Not having to ski was a relief, and I didn’t think I would have much luck questioning Ridge after the stunt I’d pulled last night at his cabin.

  “All right,” Pierce said. “You’ll meet us back at the restaurant for lunch?”

  I smiled. “Sure, and you can tell me all about skiing.” I waved to them and started back to the lodge to prove to Ridge I was leaving.

  The three of them made their way to the ski house. When they disappeared inside, I gave a great sigh of relief. I didn’t want to ski. There weren’t many things I was afraid of, but hurling myself down the face of a mountain on a couple of slick boards was one of them. Any bravado I’d been feeling when I first said yes to the idea had dissipated.

  I realized something as I made my way back to the lodge. Pierce and Edwin’s lesson was forty-five minutes long. Ridge would be busy for that time. Which would give me a perfect opportunity to check out his cabin again, this time unnoticed.

  Before I could change my mind, I walked to the path that led to the ski instructor’s cabin.

  Halfway down the path, I looked behind me to see if anyone was following me. No one was. Though I saw an immediate problem. The snow. I was leaving boot prints on the path. Unfortunately, it was something that couldn’t be helped. I would just have to be quick and mask the prints as best I could when I left the cabin.

  Ridge’s home came into view, and it was far less intimidating in the daytime than it had been the evening before. I approached.

  I stopped a few yards from the small building. I hesitated, then walked up to the front door. With the boot prints I was leaving all over the place, Ridge would know that someone had walked around his home.

  I was just about to move forward when I heard a great woof and a man shouting. I was hit on the right side by a truck.

  Okay, it wasn’t a truck, but it sure felt that way as I rolled onto my back in the snow. Tiny, wearing his giant Saint Bernard grin, dripped a glob of dog slobber on the front of my coat. Ick.

  “Tiny!” I struggled to sit up, but the dog wouldn’t have it, and pushed me down by the shoulder with one of his mighty paws. He then proceeded to lick me up one side of my face and down the other.

  I waved my hands. “Okay. Okay! I give!”

  With another woof, he hopped off me.

  I sat up slowly. I wasn’t hurt, just slobbered. As cute as Tiny was, my ick factor was at an eleven plus.

  Herschel ran over to me. “Darby, I’m so very sorry. Tiny still thinks that he’s a puppy. Even when he was a puppy, he was too big to jump on people.”

  I got to my feet and brushed snow off myself. “It’s all right. He didn’t do any harm.”

  “I’m glad.” He looked around. “If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing this far from the lodge?” He glanced at Ridge’s cabin nervously.

  “I was just out for a walk.”

  He relaxed. “It’s a lovely day for it.” He sighed. “Tiny and I were out doing the same. It’s been such a stressful weekend. I’m hoping that the lodge will survive it.”

  “You think Dr. Madd’s murder will have a lasting impact on the lodge?”

  A black cloud floated across his face. “I’m hoping that’s not the case, but Cecily will have to decide what she wants to do. The last I heard, she was putting any changes to the lodge on hold for now because she would have to take over MaddlyCare, which is far more work than management of Garden Peak Lodge. I promised her that we had everything here under control. To be honest, she has never had much interest in Garden Peak until recently.”

  “Why do you think she developed a sudden interest in the lodge?”

  Herschel looked around as if to see if anyone was watching us. We were alone. There was a faint sound of music floating to us from the ski house, but we couldn’t even see the building from where we stood.

  “I don’t know exactly. I think she and Dr. Madd were having marital problems. The lodge is something that she owned without her husband. Maybe she saw it as a backup plan.”

  It reminded me of what I had heard about the prenup between Cecily and her husband too. If she stood to get nothing in the divorce, then the ski lodge might be her best hope of financial security. It would still be a step down from her penthouse life in New York, though.

  “If they were having issues, why did Dr. Madd agree to hold the party here?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “It’s just a mess, and I hate to sound selfish, but I don’t know what this will all mean for the lodge. Cecily’s father was a good man, a great boss. I wish his children had followed in his footsteps, but it wasn’t to be. They were too spoiled. While their father had to work for everything he had, they got handed everything.”

  “Isn’t Ridge a good ski instructor?”

  “He is. When he’s sober. Did you know he was bound for the Olympics? Everyone was convinced he would go, especially his father. And then, he went to the trials when he was twenty and completely froze up. He couldn’t make himself kick off. They gave him chance after chance, and he wouldn’t budge. His father was devastated. He had put so much into Ridge’s success. He had sent him to the best ski schools and trainers all over the world. But when the moment came to show the world what he could do, he couldn’t do it.”

  “I imagine his father was disappointed.”

  Herschel nodded. “He was a mess afterward. He felt like he’d wasted money that could have been poured into the lodge. Instead, he’d wasted it on his son. Ridge couldn’t deal with the guilt of it. He drowned his disappointment with himself into alcohol. He fell in with the wrong crowd. He even went to jail a few times.”

  I made a mental note to ask Austin about Ridge’s past arrest history. “Was that why his father cut him out of the will?”

  He nodded. “I suppose he reduced Ridge’s inheritance. Cecily got everything, but Ridge got a permanent job and place to live here as long as the lodge stayed in the family.”

  “As long as the lodge stayed in the family? What if she decided to sell? It could go for a handsome price.”

  He shrugged. “Then Ridge would have to go.”

  Ridge had just gone up three notches on my suspect list.

  Chapter Twenty

  As much as I wanted to snoop around Ridge’s cabin, it wasn’t something I could do with Herschel and Tiny looking on. The only good thing to come of it was Tiny, who galloped around the cabin like a newborn colt, completely destroying any evidence of my footprints. I decided to walk back to the ski house and catch a glimpse of Pierce and Edwin skiing.

  I wasn’t too worried about Pierce. He was an athletic guy, and I often saw him cycling on the roads around town when I was out for a run. Edwin, however, was about as athletic as Mrs. Berger’s cat, which meant he was willing to give just about anything a try, but more often than not, got stuck and needed to be rescued.

  Just as I reached the ski house, Tate jumped off of the ski lift. “Hey, where did you go? I thought you were taking a ski lesson this morning. And what’s on your coat?”

  I looked down at the drooly stain on the front of my coat. It was a fashion statement. “I ran into Tiny.”

  “Oh.” That was explanation enough.

  “As for skiing, Ridge refused to teach me because of the investigation.”

  Tate took off his skis. “I guess I can’t blame the guy.”

  “It’s fine. I didn’t want to do it anyway.”

  “What’s the deal with you and skiing? I have never seen you so determined to avoid something before.”

  I gave him a look. “I just have a fear of breaking my leg. I spent over half my life training to be a ballerina. A skiing injury wasn’t worth the risk of losing that dream.”

  “But you’re not a ballerina now, and you haven’t been for over a decade.”

  “Thank you for the reminder, but that still doesn’t mean I want to break my leg.”

  “I don’t think anyone wants a broken leg. I can teach you. Just go down the run once, and I won’t ever ask you to do it again.”

  I shook my head. “No. We have a case to solve.” I paused. “Or do we? Have you spoken to Cecily?”

  He frowned. “I’m working on it.”

  “It looks to me like you’re skiing.”

  “I am, and so is Cecily. I asked her to come out with us this morning to relax and blow off some steam. I’m positive she’ll put us back on the case. Anytime it comes up, it’s clear she is terrified of going to jail. I remind her time and again that hiring us back on is the best way to avoid doing that.”

  “Tate, we’re running out of time.”

  “I know,” he said. “Listen, Cecily just started her first run, so I can get you started on going downhill. I think it will benefit your investigation to see what Dr. Madd saw just before he died.”

  That was a stretch, even for Tate.

  “Will you give it a try?” he asked.

  “Will you stop asking me if I’m willing to try?”

  He clapped his hands together. “You bet.”

  Together, we walked the rest of the way to the ski house, where the Madds’ guests were chattering and talking outside.

  “That’s one of the steepest inclines I’ve even been on,” one of the guests said.

  I shot Tate a look.

  “I’ll send you down the less steep part,” Tate claimed.

  This was such a bad idea.

  Inside the ski house, there was a line of skis of various sizes, and men’s and women’s ski boots. Tate went over the line of skis, grabbed a pair, and picked out boots in my size too. “These will work.”

  Resigning myself to my fate, I put on the ski boots. They were a perfect fit.

  Tate and I went back outside, and he walked me through a quick lesson. “Point your skis straight to go faster. Turn them ninety degrees to slow down. The lower you are on the skis, the faster you will go, because there is less wind resistance. Be sure that you’re in control. You don’t want your legs pulled out from under you. That’s how you get hurt.”

  Terrific.

  “Also, lean over your skis for better balance. You may be inclined to lean back, but that will backfire on you. Any questions?” He beamed.

  Tate was a little too excited over the idea of me skiing for my liking.

  “Yes. Why am I here?” I lowered my voice. “How is this going to help us find out who killed Dr. Madd?”

  “Get in line, and you’ll see.”

  I was about to protest until I saw that Cecily stood at the end of the line of skiers waiting to make their way down the mountain.

  I shot Tate a glance and joined the end of the line. I’d stand in line and play the part, but there was no way I was going down that mountain.

  Cecily looked over her shoulder at me. She sniffed. “Shouldn’t you be trying to find out who killed my husband?”

  “That’s what we are doing. This is the scene of the crime, you know.”

  She sniffed.

  I changed the subject. “I spoke with your brother a little while ago.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “He’s my half-brother, and barely worth that title.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “It’s nice of your father to let him stay and work at the lodge.”

  “It’s ridiculous. Ridge never worked a day in his life, and he gets free room and board and a cushy job? As long as I have this place, I’m stuck with him.”

  I nodded. “I heard that as long this lodge was in the family, that was true.”

  “That’s why I have a mind to sell it. I came back here for that very reason. I wanted to see how everything was going and what I wanted to do. I realized that managing a lodge wasn’t for me. It would serve me much better to sell it and pocket the money. I’ve been putting out feelers to see if there is interest.”

  I removed the flyer I had kept from the staff locker from my pocket. “Like this? Posting it’s up for sale on websites?”

  She ripped the paper from my hand. “Where did you get this?”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “It would also seem to matter to the lodge staff. It seems Herschel and the rest of the staff have done an impeccable job.”

  She nodded. “I’ll give them that. It might help me, too, because I think I can sell it all for a high price. There are many new entrepreneurs out there who have so much money they don’t know what to do with it. Several have expressed interest in the lodge. They might as well give their money to me. I can reinvest it into MaddlyCare. Now that my husband is dead, I own eighty percent of the company. Garret’s ex-wife owns ten percent.” She made a face. “And the other ten is owned by a small number of employee shareholders. I have a clear and strong majority, which means that I can make all the decisions pertaining to the company moving forward.”

  I didn’t know if Cecily realized, or maybe she did and thought she was untouchable, but she had just given me a very good reason as to why she might have killed her husband.

  “But will you have time to go through the sale if you are in charge of MaddlyCare? I imagine the company will take up a lot of your time.”

  She looked at me. “I’m capable of both, and it doesn’t mean I have to be here to hold anyone’s hand. As you said, Herschel has done a great job caring for the property. I don’t doubt for a second that he will do the same through the process of selling. I’m not concerned with finding a buyer.”

  The skier in front of us went down the mountain. I was running out of time.

  “I might hold off on trying to sell it,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “You don’t know yet how the investigation into your husband’s death is going to go. If MaddlyCare’s assets are frozen, or—”

  “That is not going to happen,” she snapped.

  “We don’t want it to happen, but the longer this murder investigation drags on, the more likely it will cause some trouble for your husband’s company and, in turn, you.”

  “What can I do about it?” she asked.

  “Cooperate to find your husband’s killer.”

  “Fine.” She turned all the way around and pointed a polished fingernail at me. “But you’d better find out who did this to my husband quick, or I’m suing you both.”

  I didn’t bother to tell her that wasn’t how it worked.

  “You’re next,” said the young woman who was directing the skiers downhill.

  From behind, I felt someone give me a little shove, and my skis tipped down. The next thing I knew, I was heading down the mountain.

  I tried to remember everything Tate had told me in what seemed a very short lesson. He said to keep my feet pointed straight ahead. When I did that, I went faster, so fast that I was hurtling toward a group of skiers going at a much more leisurely pace. What had he told me to do to slow down? I had no idea. My mind was a complete blank.

  “Move! Move!” I shouted to everyone in my path. I couldn’t control the skis. I had no idea how I was staying upright. I wanted to fall to my side and bail out, but I was scared. My boots were so tight in the ski bindings that I didn’t see how I could flop to the side without snapping an ankle. I was going too fast to bail out safely.

  A skier appeared at my side, matching my pace. When I dared glance in his direction, I saw that it was Tate.