Seductive Suspect

He nodded. “We decide to stick around, listen to some of the local talent, and eventually switch over to drinking cappuccino. They serve it with those sticks of colored rock candy to swirl around.”

“A nice touch.” My eyelids drooped, and I laid my head on one hand. “Are the musicians any good?”

“No, most of them are terrible.” I laughed, and he went on. “But when some young kid sings everything he’s learned about love over the only four chords he knows how to play, I reach across the table and take your hand. Even if the song sucks, the sentiments behind it are nice, and it’ll give us something to talk about on our next date.”

I tried to hide my smile behind my arm. “Oh, so there’s definitely going to be a second date? Aren’t we confident.”

“You know what they say—always leave them wanting more. By the time we part ways, you won’t be able to resist.” Adampushed away from the wall. “And, on that note, I think I should say goodnight now. You look like you’re finally ready to fall asleep, and we need to be alert tomorrow.”

A yawn slipped past my lips despite my efforts to hold it back. “You’re probably right on all counts.” I stood up and moved the chair away. “Thanks again for helping me keep my mind off less pleasant subjects.”

“Likewise.” He tapped the windowsill and gave me a little wave before stepping back in the direction of his room. “Sleep well, Veronica. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I closed and locked the window, double checking the latches to ensure they were secure. Before climbing back into bed, I did the same for my makeshift barricades in front of both doors. Wrapping myself in the covers, I reclined against the pillows and tried to think of cozy cups of coffee instead of poisoned teabags.

Day Three

Chapter Six

I woke early after a night of restless sleep. When I glanced at the clock, I saw I still had time before we were due to meet for breakfast. Grabbing a pencil and notepad from the drawer, I sat on the bed and tried to organize my thoughts in an effort to find some clues.

I made a list of everyone’s names and jotted down a few notes about what I knew about them, along with my general impressions. Dylan didn’t seem to care what anyone else thought of him, but would the killer come across as so flippant and rude? Or would they be more likely to act outgoing and approachable, like Paul? Was Victor’s professional demeanor a cover-up for brutal crimes, or was the flaky Brittany secretly a criminal mastermind?

As I’d said to Adam, no one stood out to me as a prime suspect. I flipped over the piece of paper and sketched the layout of both floors of the lodge. If I couldn’t figure out who, maybe I could determine how one of the murders occurred. I labeled each bedroom on the second floor with the occupant’s name, going in order.Isabel, Mary, Laura, Veronica, Adam, Jeremy, Paul, Dylan. Someone had caught Mary alone the previous morning, but had it been one of her neighbors or one of the men closer to the staircase? Would someone like Paul or Dylan have been able to get back to his room after throwing her to her death without the rest of us hearing anything? Or could he have lured her closer to him?

Frustrated, I turned my attention to Ruth’s murder. The staff’s rooms were on the lower level of the lodge, giving Victor and Brittany easier access to the kitchen and everything inside. I also assumed the two of them had arrived before any of the guests, making it easier for them to tamper with the tea andotherwise plot out their crimes. But on the other hand, just because they had more opportunities didn’t mean I could rule anyone else out.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. I’d accomplished nothing more on my own than we had as a group. In fact, that’s all any of us had accomplished: nothing. So far, the killer had done a spectacular job of covering their tracks. If there were any clues left behind, no one had stumbled across them yet.

Peeling off my pajamas, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As I stepped beneath the spray, more pleasant thoughts entered my mind. Though I hadn’t been able to eliminate Adam from the pool of suspects, my heart wanted to believe he had nothing to do with the gruesome deaths. Despite my instincts and better judgment, I enjoyed his lingering glances and flirty touches. I hated to admit it, but it had been a long time since I’d been on the receiving end of such attention, never mind from anyone worthwhile.

As I dried off, I attempted to focus on more important matters. I needed to be vigilant and aware of my surroundings. If I survived long enough to get off this mountain, I could worry about Adam and his dimples then.

At eight o’clock on the dot, I opened the door a crack and peeked out onto the landing. No dead bodies. The day was off to a good start. I stuck my head farther out and found Laura doing the same from the room next to me. “Good morning,” she said.

“Morning.” I didn’t move.

One by one, the other doors opened. Through the bars of the railing, I saw Victor cross the foyer to the bottom of the staircase. Brittany followed soon after, heels clicking on the parquet floor. Everyone had survived the night.

We left our rooms and gathered downstairs. “Looks like the sun’s trying to come out,” Paul said. “I’m going to walk down the road a bit and see what’s going on while it’s dry outside. Ifnothing else, maybe I can at least get a cell signal to call for help.”

Dylan snorted. “Sure you’re not trying to escape, leaving us here to explain your victims?”

“Positive.” He headed for the front door. “Save some breakfast for me.”

Dylan had a tendency to rub me the wrong way, but I wondered if he had a point. WhatwasPaul doing whenever he left the house? Had Adam’s speculation been correct? I rubbed my temples. Trying to decide who to trust threatened to give me a headache, especially since I was used to dealing with prospective clients and other strangers via email from the safety of my own home.

“I’ll get out the bagels and stuff from yesterday,” Laura said. “If anyone—or any two or more people, I should say—wants to give me a hand, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“I’ll come with you,” Isabel said.

“I will, too.” Victor straightened his bowtie. “Like many of you, I’m starting to feel a bit restless.”

The rest of us sat in our usual spots around the dining room table and attempted some trivial conversation. I hadn’t said anything to Adam yet, or even looked at him. Thinking about our conversation through the window last night made my cheeks warm. If we were somewhere, anywhere else, would he be interested in me? Or was he just being nice by distracting me when I asked?

Was he a murderer?

Laura and Isabel came through the swinging door to the kitchen, each carrying a tray of food. Victor entered after them, holding a pitcher of orange juice in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. “While obviously not super fresh,” Isabel said, “the bread and pastries should be okay.” She set down her tray in the center of the table and picked up a croissant. “Some of themmight taste a little stale by tomorrow, though, assuming we’re still here. But I think I saw some eggs in the refrigerator.”