Page 25 of K-9 in Pursuit

“Was she having sex with someone you know about?” he asked.

“No. She never talked about seeing anyone. But it’s not like we saw her away from the slopes. She could have been doing anything after the lifts closed.”

The chair slowed as they reached the top of the lift. Their skis hit snow and they stood. “We have to go,” Leann said, and skied away, Krista behind her, before he could even say goodbye.

He turned the opposite direction from the girls, Daisy trotting ahead. Had the girls been uncomfortable with his questions because he was a suspect in Sharee’s murder—or because they knew something that could implicate someone they wanted to protect? Or simply because even in death, Sharee continued to be the center of attention?

Chapter Eight

Wednesday morning, Chloe started the day with a color and cut followed by a keratin treatment to straighten hair. She was saying goodbye to the last client before lunch when the bell on the front door announced a new arrival.

A tall, thin man with a long blond ponytail and aviator sunglasses, which he didn’t remove, looked around the shop. “I’m looking for Chloe Anderson,” he said.

Nadia, who was cutting hair at her station nearby, turned to Chloe. A head taller than Chloe, with smooth, dark skin and hair tamed into a chic chignon, Nadia exuded calm. Simply being next to her made Chloe relax a little.

Chloe stepped out from behind the counter. “How can I help you?” she asked. Something told her this man wasn’t interested in a facial or a pedicure.

“Jay Kleinman, True Crime Online.” He moved toward her. “I’m working on a story about Sharee Anderson’s death and wanted to ask you a few questions.”

Chloe shook her head and retreated behind the counter once more. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Mr. Kleinman.”

“I’m interested in finding out what your sister was really like.” He continued moving forward until only the narrow counter separated him from Sharee. “My stories always focus on the victims more than the criminals.”

Chloe shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.

“What is True Crime Online?” Nadia asked.

Kleinman pivoted to face her. “Only the fastest-growing true crime community on the web. Did you know Sharee? From her photographs she looks like a very attractive young woman. I’m sure she had lots of friends.”

“You really need to leave now,” Chloe said.

The door opened and Kleinman turned toward it. A middle-aged blonde in a silver ski jacket stepped in. “Good morning, Marsha,” Nadia said. “Come right over to my station.” She sent Chloe a sympathetic look and escorted Marsha across the waiting area.

Kleinman turned back to Chloe. “I won’t take up much of your time.”

“You need to leave,” Chloe repeated. She took out her phone. “If you don’t, I’ll call the sheriff and ask him to escort you out.”

“You don’t need to be so rude,” he said.

She stared him down, silent. Frowning, he turned and walked out. Chloe gripped the counter and focused on her breath, trying to slow her racing heart. Should she have spoken to him about Sharee? Would a story on his site induce someone to come forward with more information?

But the idea of serving up her sister’s story for public entertainment curdled her stomach. Let him find his information from someone other than her.

IT WAS AFTER lunch Wednesday before Chloe made it to the sheriff’s department and asked to speak to the detective in charge of Sharee’s case. A uniformed woman with the expressionless face of a mannequin led her to a cramped office filled with a single desk and half a dozen filing cabinets. She sat in a folding chair in front of the desk and studied the bulletin board beside her, the surface covered in layers of memos, notices of regulations, memos marked urgent, and pages filled with small, close type. She wondered how long ago the paper at the very bottom had been thumbtacked to the board, and if anyone ever read the notices again once they were consigned to this purgatory.

She started when the door opened and a man in black trousers and a dark wool blazer entered. “I’m Detective Renfro,” he introduced himself as he squeezed between the filing cabinets to take a seat behind the desk.

“I’m Chloe Anderson. Sharee Anderson’s sister.”

“What can I do for you, Ms. Anderson?”

She opened her purse and took out the envelope of photos and handed it across to him. “I found these in my sister’s room last night. They were in a box pushed far back on the top shelf of the closet. I guess your investigators missed them.”

He took the envelope and spread the photos across his desk, like playing cards in a game of solitaire. “Why did you think we’d be interested in these?” he asked.

“They’re photos of Cameron Douglas, the teacher Sharee got in trouble for pursuing. Him and his family. Sharee apparently took them with an instant camera.”

“Douglas was the reason Sharee came to live with you here in Colorado, correct?” Renfro asked.