Chapter 4: Twists

Chapter 4

Twists

Derek Mallory sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wanted so much to think about Jinx, about their future together. Instead, the only thoughts allowed to obsess him were Gunther Wagner, Gavin Wylie, Sky Whitney, and Damian Tyler. He mused about putting Wylie, Whitney, and Tyler together in a small room and allow Whitney to be beaten to a pulp. It would satisfy him immensely. Whitney had taken Raven form him, after all. No, that wasn't true, Raven was never his. She'd been waiting for Whitney's proposal all along. He shook his head. That was almost a year ago, Raven was out and Jinx was in, and Jinx made him smile more often than Raven ever did.

Calvin knocked and opened his door simultaneously. “Chief, you busy?”

“Always, what's on your mind?”

“I just got off the phone with Mike Karr. Looks like Gavin's troubles are over, at least legal-wise.”

“Oh?”

“He petitioned for the charges against Gavin to be dropped. Since he's the D.A., I don't think Cliff will object.”

Derek smiled slightly. “That's good. Nelson knew it was an uphill battle when he took the case. Probably his best move was convincing Mike to release him to Miles's custody. All else just seemed to fall into place without him.”

Calvin sat down. “Yeah. Mike already talked to Gavin. I'm just afraid for my friend right now.”

“Why?”

“Well, since it looks like Whitney set him up for Gunther Wagner's murder, Whitney might still carry a grudge. Once he hears about Gavin's release...”

Derek shook his head. “The trouble is finding Whitney. He'd be stupid to come back to get at Gavin.”

“Maybe he's already done something stupid. You know that intruder at the Whitney house last night?”

“Right, you think he was after the butler Spencer Varney?”

“Looks that way. Spencer could testify to Bobbie Gerard's shoe being in the fireplace.”

Derek pulled out a file folder. “Jack Gerhart, that's your boy down in the cell.”

“Yeah, I saw his ID. He hasn't confessed to anything yet. He's keeping to a house burglary claim. Not with that weapon.”

Mallory looked at the file. “He's not from here. He's from Detroit.”

Calvin raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh? Just passing through Monticello on a whim?”

“No. He has a quite a rap sheet, mostly gang activities. An rising underworld punk at 25.”

Calvin frowned. “That's a puzzler.”

“Maybe not. Remember that theory you laid on me last night about Romeo Slade?”

“It wasn't a theory, just something that Spencer himself put in my brain. Remember how Romeo Slade had nothing on his yellow sheet about burglary? So why did he have that fancy target pistol?”

“Yeah,” Derek mused half to himself. “But why would he want to kill Raven?”

“Unless hired.”

“By whom?”

“My guess is Whitney himself.”

Derek shook his head. “That makes no sense! They'd just gotten married less than a month before.”

“Ah, but we've been wondering why Whitney would want Gunther dead. Gunther knew everything about his boss, so that's something to blackmail him with.”

“Maybe. So the question is, why would Whitney want his bride dead?”

“If we find him we can ask him. Heard from Tyler?”

“Yeah, he's taking one more week to work with a cop named Isler. They left this morning for Bern, in fact, while we were just getting off from our late shift.”

Calvin was confused. “Bern? Why there? I thought all the action was in St. Moritz.”

“Key word there's was. Apparently Isler is transferring there anyway and the capital has better resources to track Whitney.”

“I don't know. His money can buy good hiding places.”

Derek grinned. “Now that Whitney's been made an international suspect, it's a whole new ballgame.”

Jefferson Brown looked out of his hotel window. He was angry, angry that his usually available Paris mansion was being used through May. Not that this suite was lacking, it was all he needed for...how long? A month, maybe two? Raven's 'accident' was surely arousing some suspicion by now. He wondered if the body had been found yet. If so, the injuries would be found be to more than just a ski accident. He shrugged, then sat back, fully realizing what he had done. He'd murdered four people, caused a heart attack death, and blackmailed a beautiful woman to be his love slave. He had to admit, money not only made for personal power, it made for personal hell. How the hell did that snot-nosed kid Whitney make it so easy? He was just as arrogant, after all. But Whitney had charisma, he drew people, albeit brainless broads, to him just through sheer magnetism. I had to blackmail and push my authority. A tear fell down Brown's face. And because of that, I ruined it for myself. Well, at least I have the money. From here I can sell the businesses and live in silent luxury.

Brown reached for the newspaper, wondering if any Swiss police business reached Paris. He was fluent enough in French to read the Paris headlines. After getting past the political and artsy nonsense, his eye caught the name Whitney on page 5, along with his picture. Decoding the French, it was perfectly clear: he was officially a wanted man, but not for Raven's death. He was wanted for murder in the States! He put the paper down and began to pace again.

Spencer, it had to be him! No, wait. He looked back at the paper. The manhunt had started in Switzerland. He read further and saw Damian Tyler mentioned. Damn him to hell! No, damn me! Too much emotion, too much anger went into that attempt on the slope. He got to a hospital, called in to Derek Mallory, and the wheels of justice began to turn, no, began to grind against me! He looked at the door, wondering how long it would be before the police knocked. If the clerk had seen him beneath the sunglasses, it was only a matter of time. Time now to move. But where?

In the Bern airport, Isler and Damian Tyler waited for their bags. Isler looked at Damian's leg. “Our first stop is the hospital.”

Damian shook his head. “No, I'll be fine! I have one week to bring Whitney back. After that-”

“After that you go home and I continue the hunt if it goes that long. You are of no use to me if we are in what you call a hot pursuit and you cannot move.”

“Fine, but no more than a few hours.”

“As long as it takes. I don't think much more can happen today, do you?”

Chapter 3: Spencer's Exodus

Chapter 3

Spencer's Exodus

Spencer Varney had searched and searched the house for days, weeks, since the Whitneys had left. No sign at all of anything out of the ordinary. Well, almost nothing apart from that shoe. He had thought nothing of it before his conversation with Raven. Then came the boss's anger, but he knew it was an act. The anger was always just an elaborate act to hide his fear.

He looked around the main room, at the portrait of Raven, at the fireplace. Apart from dealing with the boss's rage here and there, the job had been a good one. It was certainly better in some ways than other jobs, less violent for sure. Apart from trying to hold Gavin Wylie at bay that one night and almost pulling on Damian Tyler, his gun hadn't needed to be fired. Spencer chuckled. Not by me anyway. The boss had grabbed it from him after slapping him and fired at Wylie himself. Oh, that slap! I almost quit that night. There's a limit to what I'll do for Schuyler Whitney. A phone call to Libby had helped to calm him down.

In four months, he had accomplished nothing except to see what a maniac this impostor was. Well, killing Gunther seemed logical, actually. He inspired that kind of rage. Then Carlo Crown robbed the house, then Wylie and Jody Travis hid in the house for a week. Then came Bobbie. Oh how much he'd been tempted to help her! But no, his cover was fragile enough as it was. He'd almost blown it when he revealed that he'd known Gunther. Bobbie knew the risks when she took the job, she came for that watch. Subtlety wasn't her strong suit.

And then there was Nora. She must have heard about him from Dr. Cavanaugh that night Mrs. Saxon fainted, and he regretted agreeing to meet her the few times they did. The insane asylum had done nothing for her.

There was Damian Tyler. He was a bit more subtle, but his interest in Raven was too obvious. Or was it? That guy had something on his mind besides Raven and the boss seemed to get that. He remembered the day he saw Raven at the hospital visiting Tyler, and the fight that erupted at home later. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out the boss was involved in Tyler's stabbing somehow.

And then there was Raven. Did she know her husband was playing a role? It was hard to tell. She was a tough one. Warm at times, aloof at others, and always inquisitive. It might get her killed one day. Maybe it has already.

Spencer stood up and grabbed his two bags. It was time to go. He hated telling Sky the past few months were a complete waste, but the impostor was a genius. He wondered at times if the patient in Bern was the actual impostor, but no, the story was too real to not believe it, the man's pain too real.

As he walked toward the door, the phone rang. He knew he shouldn't answer it, but then nobody thought he was still here. “Hello?”

The female British voice replied, “It's Libby. We have a new problem.”

Spencer sighed. “Tell me.”

“I followed them like you suggested, I even overheard them in a restaurant saying what slope they'd be skiing. You were so right, he was there to kill her!”

“OK OK, calm down, Libby. What happened?”

“That animal threw her down a ravine after she fell while skiing.”

Spencer's mouth dropped. “She's dead?!” He listened to her story, then smiled. “I'm on my way, give me a day to get to Bern.” With that Spencer Varney locked up and headed to the door. That was when the lights went out.

It was a mild February night, so there was no winter storm to cut the power. On instinct he took to the stairs and then went into his room, where he had left the gun the boss gave to him. There hadn't been any point in taking it, especially since he was quitting. The sound of breaking glass confirmed it.He grabbed it and walked back to the edge of the top landing. He crouched to look. Yes, there he was, a man in black with what looked to be a gray ski mask.

Spencer smiled grimly. No style, just an ordinary burglar...with a Beretta. He thought for a moment. It wasn't just another break-in at the Whitney mansion. But they couldn't be there for him, the boss thought he went on vacation. Unless....the shoe! That had to be it! That stupid call Raven made, it also made me a target. Obviously I'd stick around and talk to the police. Well, I didn't! But he wants me quiet anyway. He looked at the intruder. It was a kid, most likely. He didn't look too sure of himself. It was too bad, really, but it always was. Hired goons had no brains, no ambition, and they had to know that death for them was a possibility. The kid was shaking.

Spencer stood and began walking down the steps. The kid heard him, turned, and fired a wild shot into the wall. Spencer quickly aimed and hit the kid in his gun arm. He dropped the weapon but was prepared to take a swing at Spencer with his other arm, but Spencer just pushed him away, grabbed the gun, checked the safety, and put it in his pocket. “Sit down, kid! My gun still has bullets.”

The kid sat on the divan. Spencer sat opposite him and called the police, the gun still on the kid. When he was done, he sat back and looked at the punk. “Take off your mask, please.”

He complied, wincing in pain as he did so. The kid was blond with a crew cut, no more than 23 or 24. There was a hardness to the eyes, though, maybe through experience or just hard knocks. Spencer remarked, “Why are you here?”

The kid shrugged. “I saw a fancy house and wanted its goods.”

Spencer shook his head. “If you had an ordinary six-shooter, I'd believe you. Your Beretta, however, is meant for serious business. I won't try to do the police's business, but just by curiosity, who hired you?”

The kid just sat staring, holding his arm. It was about another fifteen minutes before the police arrived, led by Calvin Stoner. The police went through their usual routine with the suspect while Calvin came to Spencer and asked what happened. After he gave his account, Calvin asked, “May I ask why you're here? I mean, I know you work for the Whitneys and live here, but I thought you were on vacation as well.”

A little lie wouldn't hurt him here. “Well, Detective, to tell the truth, I was not able to find a caretaker in good time. So today I just decided to go away for a week. I was all ready to leave when the boy came in.”

Calvin nodded. It was neither here nor there why Spencer was still in the mansion. “I'm glad I caught you anyway. We were going to have to find you eventually.”

“Why?”

“We got some information about a missing shoe that we believe belonged to Bobbie Gerard. Apparently Mrs. Whitney found it in Mr. Whitney's car.”

Spencer thought quickly. There was no point in defending the maniac anymore. “Yes. The remains are charred, but are sitting by the fireplace. Mr. Whitney had thrown it in the fireplace and instructed me to forget it. I pulled it out anyway.”

Calvin walked over to the shoe and made an examination. “Not much left of it, is there?”

“No sir.”

“Well, I think you have nothing to worry about, neither the shoe or the punk you shot. You have a license and you shot in self defense.”

“He's not dead, either.”

Calvin grinned. “True. Now for the big question. Why do you think this guy came here?”

Spencer replied, “Detective, you saw the gun, he wasn't here to rob the house.”

“Meaning he was after you?”

“Yes.”

Calvin folded his arms in thought. “Now why would he be after you?”

“Well, Mrs. Whitney called to tell me about it, the shoe I mean, she actually wondered if I had a girl in the car with me, which I never did. Mr. Whitney heard the whole conversation and knows that I know. He is my employer,  but I think he is also dangerous.”

Stoner nodded. “Evidence seems to be piling in that direction.”

“I have a bit more evidence that he killed Bobbie Gerard.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The last day that I saw Bobbie, Mr. Whitney asked me about his pocket watch and I told him that Bobbie probably took it to be fixed. He insisted on driving himself on an errand. I thought nothing of it at the time.”

Calvin nodded. “I think you tied it up for us.”

“Bobbie's murder?”

“Yeah, that and Gunther Wagner's.”

“How so?”

“Mr. Whitney wouldn't kill a servant over a watch unless it was evidence. Bobbie loved Gavin Wylie and would do anything for him. She was getting too close, obviously.”

Spencer nodded but knew all that anyway. “Detective, do I need to stay here longer?”

Calvin shook his head. “I think if you came to headquarters and made a statement, you could go.”

“Thank you.” Spencer started to turn, but then remarked, “Detective, I understand that an assassin was here last summer, trying to kill Mrs. Whitney.”

“Yes, but how did you know?”

“I read the papers, sir. Strange, so many intruders in this house since Mr. and Mrs. Whitney got married.”

Spencer turned to watch the punk getting patched up and arrested. Calvin gave him a bemused stare. He was an odd man. But he also made a good point. Calvin remembered the Romeo Slade case well. It had always been a puzzle, since the slimeball had no history of burglary. He understood Spencer's implication. But why would Whitney try to kill Raven? He shook his head and attended to police business.

Chapter 2: The Sky Has Fallen

Chapter 2

The Sky Has Fallen

Damian Tyler did not know how he had wound up in a hospital bed. His eyes barely open, a sea of gray, along with a mix of female and male voices speaking in German. What the hell happened? Last thing I remember is skiing away from Whitney’s cabin. Then, nothing. Wait, not nothing. It was a hard shove I felt, then my ankle was on fire. It wasn’t a tree. Then he remembered the look on Whitney’s face when he left, it was of controlled rage. He was trying to stop me! But if that was a murder attempt, he’s getting sloppy. But how did I get here?

The gray slowly cleared into hazy forms, then cleared instantly. A nurse was getting a hypodermic ready. He tried to quickly sit up, but the pain from his right ankle caught on fire and he winced in agony. “What are you doing?

“Something for the pain, that is all.”

He nodded. The pain blocked the sting of the hypo well. “Where am I?”

“A hospital in St. Moritz. One of the ski guides brought you here. You are very lucky. Even bundled for the Swiss weather, you could have frozen to death.”

At that moment, a man entered, presumably a doctor. “Ah, I have some good news for you. You ankle is not broken, it is just a bad sprain.”

This time, Damian could sit up, albeit slowly. “Great. I need to get out of here!”

“Oh no, that is not a good idea.”

“Look, doctor, I have to find some people.”

The doctor half-smiled. “Girls?”

“Well, yeah, one girl, and she’s in danger”

“Explain, please.”

Damian’s impatience was showing. “Look, I don’t have time to sit here and explain the whole story, but there’s a married couple visiting from Monticello named Whitney. I’m from Monticello as well. Mr. Whitney is a suspect in a murder and if we don’t find them, Mrs. Whitney may be his next victim!”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “I understand, but the first order of business is your ankle healing.”

“Doctor! I can’t just sit-“

“Oh yes you can. Nurse, get him into his room immediately. Tie him down if he doesn’t sit still.” He smiled at Damian. “Health first, Herr-..”

“Tyler. Damian Tyler, I’m a police detective from the States.”

“Do you need to talk to the local police?”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea. You see, I’m here unofficially and I didn’t bring proof to justify extraditing Mr. Whitney…at least not until I talk to my boss.”

The doctor nodded gravely. “This is what you do. Get to bed and call your superiors. When all is in order I will bring Inspector Isler in, he is a friend of mine.”

An hour later, after Tyler was in less pain after the injection, he placed a call to Derek Mallory. “Hello Chief!”

“Tyler, what’s going on over there?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve sustained a ski injury.”

Derek’s annoyance was clear before he even spoke. “Great! Just what this investigation needed!”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. In fact, I think we can tie the noose around Whitney’s neck.” He recounted the visit with Sky and the brief phone conversation with Raven as well as the ski incident. “So this trip was justified. I wish I’d made a copy of that letter to show him, the arrogance might have died right then and there. Now the trick is to find them again. I think Sky might try to kill Raven.”

Derek gasped. “Why?”

“She found the shoe. She’s not dumb, Chief, and he knows that. In fact, I think the reason for this trip was to find a private place to kill her.”

“All right, look. I’m calling Mike Karr in a minute. We’ll see if we can send the file and an extradition order to the Swiss police quickly.”

“Right. I don’t think they’ll take my word for it without an official order. So long, Chief.”

He laid back, exhaustion taking over. He did not know how long he had been out, but when he woke up, the sky was completely dark in the window., and a single light was on the ceiling, a very faint glow probably designed to relax patients. Damian, however, did not know how to relax. It was an alien feeling for him, especially since his father Fowler Wilcox died. Upon awaking, he was immediately stressed out. He looked for a clock, finally finding one on the wall. He squinted to see…it was 7:22p.m. Four hours! He looked for a button, but saw none, so he yelled, “Nurse! Doctor!”

It took less than ten seconds for the flying nun-like nurse to enter. “Ah, you are awake! Is everything all right?”

“No! I mean, yes, my ankle seems better, but I need to get out of here. Those people I mentioned, I need to find them and fast!”

“Impossible, Herr Tyler. The doctor has ordered bed rest for you for at least two days!”

“NO!! I need to get out!”

“Excuse me, nurse,” Tyler and the nurse turned their attention to a harried older man in a white winter suit. “I need to speak to Detective Tyler alone.”

The nurse glared at him. “Who are you?”

The man showed his ID. “Inspector Isler, St. Moritz Police.” The nurse acquiesced immediately and left. Tyler mused silently the weight of police badges in Switzerland.

Isler took a chair from the corner and brought it next to Damian’s bed. “I hear you were injured.”

“Just slightly. These people make it out to be like cancer.”

Isler nodded. “It can be in the Alps. Now, my office has received paperwork from your country.”

Damian's eyes widened. “Extradition orders?”

“Ja. For a Herr Schuyler Whitney.”

“Great! Do you have him?”

Isler sadly shook his head. “Nein. It is, how do you say, a funny thing. Herr Whitney alerted the police today as to a disappearance. He and his wife took a skiing excursion this afternoon and she went far ahead of him, most likely due to over-waxed skis. Herr Whitney says, however, that she was an inexperienced skier. Maybe she was an inexperienced waxer also.”

Damian shook his head He was too late, he couldn’t save Raven! But as sad as he was, his anger was still stronger. “No, Inspector! I think the overwaxer is Mr. Whitney.”

Isler shrugged. “Who can prove that? Mrs. Whitney is nowhere to be found…yet. We are beginning our official search tomorrow morning, first light. When we find her, if she is alive, we will know what really happened.”

“And if we don’t find her?”

Isler shrugged again. “We have the extradition papers for Herr Whitney. I am sure your questions will get the truth out of him regarding his wife.” He cleared his throat. “What I want to know is, why you came to Switzerland without the papers yourself.”

“Inspector, I was working on a strong theory regarding the murder of Mr. Whitney’s former servant. Another man went to jail and is about to stand trial for it. I wanted to confront Mr. Whitney with, well, my theory.”

Isler shook his head. “You confronted this man with your theory?”

“I did.”

“Tell me in brief what you believe happened.”

“I believe that Mr. Whitney’s servant Gunther Wagner was blackmailing his boss over something, maybe a business deal or something. Mr. Whitney also had problems with another employee, a dance instructor named Gavin Wylie, who was supposed to train his girlfriend Jodie for a big dance show that was premiering. Wylie instead helped Jodie to quit the dance company. Mr. Whitney devised a plan to kill Gunther and frame Gavin Wylie for it.”

“How did he do that?”

“Gavin had a gun, and Gunther filled it secretly one night with blank cartridges, then later arranged to confront Gavin. When Gavin pulled out his gun in defense, Gunther started a struggle and made the gun go off. He used fake blood to scare Gavin who dropped the gun and ran off. After that, Whitney came in, put live ammunition in Gavin’s gun and killed Gunther for real. Gavin went on the run for 2 months before he was caught.”

Isler nodded. “Quite a story. Where is your evidence that Herr Whitney did the killing?”

“I found out through an undercover assignment that Gunther had bought blank cartridges shortly before he died. Also, Gunther sent a letter to his ex-girlfriend that his boss hired him to play a joke on a guy in town.”

Isler stared at Damian. “And you came here without this evidence to convince Herr Whitney to confess? To return to Monticello? Sloppy police work, Herr Tyler! If Herr Whitney had filed a complaint for harassment, you would now be in jail.” He then lightened his tone. “However, that was not the case, so here we are.”

Damian thought about it. Yeah, this trip was sudden, and if Chummy Davis hadn't tried to kill him, he wouldn't even be here. “You're right, I should have come prepared with that letter. The evidence of the blank cartridges was destroyed, though. I was the only one to see it.”

Isler looked at his papers. “The extradition covers two crimes, I see. Another murder?”

Damian grinned. “By chance I got wind of that. A missing shoe was the key in the other murder. Mr. Whitney killed a girl named Bobbie Gerard because she found evidence to exonerate Gavin Wylie and expose Whitney. Mrs. Whitney found the shoe in their car while they were packing for the trip to St. Moritz.”

Isler grinned himself. “You know, Herr Tyler, I think this assignment will get me the transfer I want.”

“What, to homicide?”

“No, to Bern. More real action there.”

“All right. Now, what's our next step?”

“Simply, to arrest Herr Whitney at his cabin. We told him to sit and wait for word on his wife Raven.”

Damian swung his legs over the bed's edge and attempted to stand. It was pure agony, but it was only pain, it let him know he was alive. He took a step or two, then some more. Yes, if he took it slowly, he could walk. “I want to come with you.”

Isler eyed Damian's limp. “It does not look like you'd make it past the front door.”

“Look, with all respect, I want to be with you to exercise the extradition order.”

“Herr Tyler, you look to be someone who has passion for his assignment, particularly for these people. This is regular business for me. I mean, as an officer of the law. You look like you may do harm to Herr Whitney if you saw him.”

Damian stopped and thought quickly. “I have reason to, but I promise I will be there simply to observe, then take full custody of him at the airport.”

Isler looked out from the door and spoke to supposedly the nurse. “Bringen sie mir ein Krücke!” In a minute, the nurse brought a crutch and gave it to Damian. “The doctor does not want you to move.”

Damian moved with his crutch. “Nurse, I can move.”

Isler motioned to the nurse. “Get him discharged. I need Herr Tyler to identify a suspect. Immediately!”

Isler seemed to have some pull, because within an hour, they were in a helicopter headed toward the Whitney cabin, along with the caretaker who had a key. Damian insisted on him accompanying them, just in case. When they landed, the cabin was dark. Using flashlights, they made their way to the door, albeit slowly with Damian's injury. The caretaker unlocked it and the two policemen entered. What they saw was not a total shock, though Damian was both infuriated and panicked. All of the Whitneys' belongings, luggage, clothes, anything that spoke of evidence of someone living there, was gone!

Damian turned to Isler. “He left! Without waiting for news on his wife. What does that tell you about him?”

Isler grinned slyly. “It tells me that he's now mine.”

Chapter 1: The Crash of '82

Chapter 1

The Crash of '82

Jeff looked back. Tyler's body did not move. He felt at once satisfied and afraid. The cop had it coming. He should have stayed in Monticello. Did he really think I was going to confess? But what about that letter from Roxanne? And those damn blank cartridges? And now that damn shoe! Even if I took care of Tyler, Spencer is probably suspicious now. What do I do, go back to Monticello and kill him, too?

He stared at Damian's still form for another minute or so. No movement. Jeff turned and headed on his skis to the cabin. No. Stick to the plan. If I stop now, it's over for me. I can't turn back now...not on the plan or back to Monticello. Sell the businesses and live my life in Europe. Too many questions now. Geraldine is against me, the theater company is dead, and Raven...well, it's my own fault for letting myself fall in love. I could have had my share of Martines, it was so easy.

Jeff arrived at the cabin just in time to see Raven with her packages. It must have been quite the shopping adventure, all that money spent. Money! It has made me arrogant and controlling. Have I become like that little spoiled jackass? Maybe so. He couldn't fly well and I can't cover up a murder well...2 murders, 3 if Tyler's dead. He looked dead. And with Raven it'll be 4.

Raven looked absolutely radiant after her shopping spree. Jeff just listened to her ramble on about her clothes, that was easy. But when she mentioned Damian Tyler, he still tensed. Why? He was no longer a threat...but she was! As long as she was alive, she was a threat. After a long, passionate kiss, the 2 ran to the helicopter. It took them to the slope Jeff had pinpointed.

On the way up, Raven leaned against him. “I'm so glad you brought me here.”

Jeff just smiled and nodded. No words were necessary.

But she kept going, she always did. “I'm still wondering why Damian came to Switzerland.”

Jeff sighed and put on the indignance. “I'm not. He just wanted to harass me again about-”

Raven moved up and turned to look at him. “About Jeff Brown?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn't make any sense. I doubt Derek Mallory would give him that much leave, he missed enough after being stabbed.”

“Word was, he was suspended anyway, at least that's what Derek assured me.”

Raven looked him straight in the eye. “Was he suspended because you complained?”

“Yes, damnit! He spend entirely too much time coming to see you. He was a cop, he had real cases to work on, but instead he had his eye on you.”

Raven sighed. “You're right. He wanted to elicit my sympathy for his father's downfall.”

“And did he get it?”

She shook her head and retained eye contact. “No. It started to become a battle for my loyalty. And I will always be loyal to you.”

Jeff smiled. “No matter what?”

“What does that mean?”

She doesn't get loyalty, it means no matter what! “Nothing. But I know why Tyler was here. He wanted to come here to investigate the plane crash.”

“He told you that?” Raven was open-mouthed.

“Oh yeah.”

“Do you think he'll find anything?”

“Like what?”

“Like his body.”

Jeff looked at her darkly. This is just too much! First the questions about the shoe, then about Damian, and now she's wondering about poor dead Sky! His voice lowered so the pilot wouldn't hear. “You'd better hope not, my dear Raven. If that body is found, that's it for me and Sky's money! You hear me? Never speak of him again.”

Raven just stared at him. He knew she could see it, the panic. Those eyes just tore through every layer he had. That was why he fell in love. Fell, not still in. When was it, that I started to fall out? Yes, it was when I slapped her for visiting Tyler. I knew then that this time would come. He let his face relax a bit. “Hey, no time for this now, We're landing.” He allowed a reassuring grin.

She looked around and saw it, the vast expanse of snow she was about to take on. They got off and put on their skis. Raven took a lot time to check her bindings. Jeff was growing impatient but said nothing. It was a full five minutes before she looked up, the stress of the conversation gone. He leaned in to kiss her one more time. “Ready?”

She beamed. “Yeah!”

With that, she went first. He waited about 10 seconds before he, too, began. He watched her the whole time. Her form had really improved after several lessons and the runs they took together. He almost didn't want it to happen. They could spend eternity skiing the rest of Switzerland, then maybe France, Italy, Austria. But no, it was too late.

After a quick schuss, it happened. She spun too quickly and went down. She screamed in agony, then went silent. Was she dead? He came up to her. Tyler seemed to go quickly, why not her? But no, she breathed still. Jeff bent down and removed his skis and hers as well. He held her close. She softly professed her love for him. Oh, how easy it would be to get her to a hospital now, forget the past month. No, that wasn't the plan. He picked her up, silently cursing her interrogative nature. She had done this to herself. He carried her for several minutes easily, but his strength was faltering. He couldn't go much farther, but it was close. The cliff he had espied earlier.

At last they made it. Jeff stared down. It was an eternal fall, he couldn't even see the bottom. It was perfect. Raven pulled his neck close. “It hurts, Sky. Please take care of me,” she moaned.

Jeff nodded and replied coldly. “Yes, Raven. I'll take care of you. Just like I took care of Gunther.” He saw the look of horror and he just smiled. With a short heave, he flung her into the snowy abyss, her screams turning from live agony and fear to echoed, ghostly reverberations, then nothing. He stared down for several moments, almost hoping to hear her voice again, but there was nothing. With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed back to his skis. Hers were still there as well. It was a quick toss down the ravine. Afterward, Jeff made it to the village of St. Moritz. It was time to move quickly. Get the police involved now and get it over with.