I rolled my eyes. “I can take care of myself.”
Thelma reared up. “Jacki? Hey, Jacki.”
A woman with bobbed gray hair beneath a gray knit cap turned and waved. “Hey, Thelma,” she called over the crowd. “You made it.”
Thelma stood, her gaze eagle-like. “Where is she?” she yelled.
I stilled. “I thought we were going to do this quietly?”
Jacki turned just as another woman walked inside, this one with red hair over a black jacket and snow pants. “Sharon is right here.” She jerked her thumb toward the redhead.
Sharon frowned, turned, and spotted us. Then she pivoted and ran out the door.
“Damn it,” Georgiana muttered, tossing her chair back and barreling through the crowd with Thelma right behind her.
I ran after them, aware of Bosco at my side.
We all skidded outside to see Sharon plunk a helmet on her head, jump onto a green sled, expertly start it, and zip out of the parking lot.
I spotted my cousin Rory next to his snowmobile and ran for him, jumping on. “I’ll be back.” I twisted the key and grabbed the throttle.
“Hey.” Rory barely shoved his helmet into my gut as I roared past him.
“Thanks,” I yelled back, slamming the heavy metal onto my head and flipping up the visor to follow the redhead through the snow. Lowering my chin, I settled into the seat and twisted the throttle, going full out through two trees onto a trail.
Chapter 28
Sharon was a decent rider on the older sled, but Rory had a new Arctic Cat, and so long as I kept it on the trail, she couldn’t outrun me. She tried to take a couple of different trails, and I followed easily, my palms kept warm by the heaters built into the handles. Unfortunately, the skin on the outside of my hands was freezing.
She looked over her shoulder at me, and I gunned it, coming up to her skis. I hit a couple of rocks in the trail, and my back protested, but I kept up the speed. The wind blew mercilessly, and my breath fogged up the helmet since it was too big for me. No way was I taking it off, though.
Then she took a sharp right turn, climbing up a hill.
I slowed and then stopped, considering my options. My sled was more powerful than hers, and I could probably climb the hill. She wasn’t going to make it.
She had to stop halfway up, partially turned and then sank right down into the heavy snow. Her head dropped. She was only about six yards up the hill from me, but the snow was at least at thigh level, if not more.
I cut my engine and took off my helmet. “Looks like you’re stuck.”
She turned off the sled and removed her helmet, turning to sit and face me. “Looks like it.”
The wind whistled through the trees, and the snow lightly fell, cocooning the two of us in the wilderness. Sleds could be heard in the distance, but right now, there were just the two of us and the snowy trees. “Why did you run?” I asked.
“I know who you are and that you’re representing Bernie McLintock,” she said, not having to raise her voice. “Gossip travels fast from Idaho to Montana, as you know. Also, I’ve seen you in the paper a lot lately—usually in bar fights or ridiculous situations.”
“Don’t believe everything you read,” I said. That darn Jolene O’Sullivan. At least she hadn’t caught up to me about the Santa case yet. For now, I had a job to do, so I studied Sharon. Red hair, blue eyes, fairly smooth skin for a woman in her sixties. “Should I know you?”
“Probably not.” She rested her elbows on her knees and seemed content to just sit there in the cold. “I actually go by Rona or Ronnie and not Sharon, but I have met your Grandma Albertini before. Nice lady.”
“You’re going to need assistance digging out the sled,” I said, rather helpfully.
She sighed, her nose turning pink. At least she was wearing gloves. I shoved my hands in my pockets, wishing I’d grabbed gloves before chasing her into the wilderness.
I cleared my throat. “Did you know you inherited a bundle from Lawrence Forrest? I was at the reading of the will.”
She cocked her head to the side, watching me. I had to admit, there was something impressive about her, about the way she just sat there unconcerned with anything.
I shifted my weight on the snowmobile, setting both feet on the runner and facing her. “I’m not leaving. You might as well talk to me.” I thought through what I knew about her. “Here’s the deal, Sharon. I’ve pretty much put it together that Lawrence hired you to pretend to sleep with Bernie McLintock, and you did so. It was five years ago, and any statute of limitations on fraud or anything else have run. You can’t be arrested or charged with a crime.” Bernie might have a civil case against her, but criminally, she was off the hook. “So talk. Either now, or I’ll subpoena you to come in and speak with me. It’s up to you.”
