She sighed.
I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to find her again, but I kept my expression confident. Well, as confident as possible, considering the frigid wind was trying to shred the different layers of my face off. I shivered and huddled deeper into my jacket, which was not made for snowmobile riding.
“Fine.” She pushed her hat farther back on her head. “Yeah, I helped Lawrence set up Bernie McLintock. Lawrence had been in love with Florence for eons, and apparently Bernie wasn’t being nice to her, so I figured, why not?” She rubbed snow off her face. “Although, it really wasn’t like Lawrence. I mean, I loved the man as a good friend, but he wasn’t a master planner, you know?” She shrugged. “Guess that’s what love does to a guy. I wouldn’t know.”
“Did you sleep with Bernie?” I figured I owed the guy to actually ask the question.
“No. Lawrence drugged him, and we carted his butt out to some apartment Lawrence kept for mainly business, after we put a bed in the night before. Woke up naked, lied, and figured I’d helped out Lawrence.” She blinked snow out of her eyes, her voice echoing off the trees behind me. “I think he and Florence would’ve been happy.”
I swallowed. “You know Florence?”
“No,” Sharon said.
The snow was clinging to my hair, so I shoved it over my shoulders to keep my face free. “How do you know Lawrence, then?”
Sharon smiled, making her look like a snow sprite. “Until I retired, I worked for Elroy’s Flies and met Lawrence at a trade show in Vegas about twenty years ago. We became friends. In fact, when I retired, I went to Montana after talking to him about it. I live in Missoula, and it’s a great place to be.”
“That’s it?” I asked, curling my fingers into my hands, trying to banish the chill. “You were just friends, and he left you a hundred thousand dollars in his will?” Sure, it wasn’t the millions he’d left Florence or even Hoyt, but it was still a boatload of money.
She chuckled, her eyes dancing. “Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? We were pen pals most of our working lives, and we became really good friends. I would’ve done anything to help him, and I guess I did.” She brushed snow off her forehead. “He sent me a letter after Florence divorced Bernie, saying that now he had a chance and would always owe me. That he was putting me in his will, and someday he’d be able to repay me, but hopefully not for a long time.” She sobered. “I can’t believe Bernie killed him. So sad.”
“Why haven’t you contacted the lawyers? Obviously you’ve heard of Lawrence’s death,” I said, my teeth chattering.
“I called them yesterday,” she said. “To be honest, I’d figured Lawrence was just talking and joking about his will. I’m shocked he left me that much money.”
I swallowed. “Where were you the night he was killed?”
Her smile was rueful. “I was at a Christmas party my neighbors threw and have about twenty witnesses. We partied all night, man. I had a heck of a headache the next day.”
“I’d like the names of your neighbors.”
“Sure,” she said, looking down the distance between us.
I tilted my head. “If Bernie didn’t kill Lawrence, who do you think did?”
She gingerly stepped down, sinking up to her hips in the snow. “Nobody. Bernie’s the only person in the world who would’ve wanted Lawrence dead, as far as I know.” She kicked snow out of her way. “You going to help me get this sled out?”
The roar of engines finally pierced the silence, and I turned to see Rory and Bosco riding with Thelma and Georgiana holding on tight behind them, both wearing helmets and protective gear. I wasn’t sure whose sled Rory had borrowed, but it looked like a new Polaris.
Sharon’s chin dropped and she snorted. “This is your backup?”
I looked to make sure everyone was safe. “Yeah. They found you, didn’t they?”
The ladies could barely containthemselves on the drive home from Montana, past Silverville, and through the pass. Unfortunately, my back was already aching from the ride, and my feet would not warm up. Plus, I was driving them all the way home, and then I needed to collect Violet and drive back over to Silverville. I should’ve thought of a way to combine the trips, but it wasn’t like I could’ve taken Violet to hunt for a woman in a bar.
“So,” I said, cutting into their excited chatter. “You never did tell me how you two found Sharon Smith.”
This time, Thelma sat in the front with the heat filtering across her tightly curled hair, and Georgiana sat in the back.
Thelma hopped in place, looking like a happy chipmunk who’d found some brightly colored fabric to play with. “It’s so wonderful. We canvassed Timber City and then headed over to Silverville where everybody knows everybody.” She grinned. “We talked to everyone we could, including the Lady Elks. They didn’t know a redhead named Sharon, but then Betty Johnsville mentioned that she had a cousin named Sharon who went by the name of Ronnie.”
I sped up to pass a truck that was catapulting dark chunks of ice up from its rear tires. “So you figured out Sharon’s name was Rona?”
“No,” Georgiana said, leaning forward as far as the seatbelt would allow. “But we did start to ask about Ronnie’s, and then we talked to Bobby Castanza, who leads the Silverville Snowmobile Club, and he mentioned a hottie named Rona, and well, we went from there. Got a description of her, talked to Bernie, and then we just had to find out when the next poker run or ride was happening.”
It was late afternoon, and the sun had disappeared, so I double-checked that my headlights were on. It was decent detective work, actually. “You two did a really good job.” It was true, and I appreciated it. “I’m not sure how long it would’ve taken to find her if you hadn’t been so successful.” They’d found Sharon before Pierce could, which was impressive.
Thelma preened. “It’s so nice to find a calling late in life. We were getting a little bored.”
