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“What can I do for you, Detectives? You want me to start up this rust bucket and get you on the mountain real quick?”
“No need for that,” Elliot replied, shaking the man’s hand. “We just need some information from you, that’s all.”
The man rubbed his hands together, seemingly excited for some reason. “Shoot.”
“We’re looking for two young men, under twenty-five,” Kay said, forgetting for a moment that Jimmy Bugarin was more comfortable speaking with Elliot than her. His frown and hands shoved quickly into his pants pockets reminded her. “My partner will give you all the details.”
He instantly relaxed and turned his attention to Elliot, almost smiling with relief. Kay refrained from shaking her head. Some men had issues dealing with women, set so deeply within their psyche it was beyond logic or redemption.
Elliot shot her a quick look, then said, “We don’t have a sketch yet, but we should have one soon. For now, I can tell you one’s six feet tall, the other’s six-two. They’re Caucasian and dark-haired, with ‘hair that needs a trim,’ in the exact words of our witness.” He made air quotes with his fingers as he spoke.
The frown returned on Jimmy’s forehead, and his stained, stubby fingers found the brow creases and scratched them thoroughly. “Um, no disrespect, but why are you asking me about these two characters? I believe I done tellin’ you I wasn’t here on Tuesday, when that poor girl died. My kid was sick with the flu. I was here Wednesday, when I took the other cop up on the mountain with his dog.”
“Yes, I remember you mentioned it,” Elliot said. He spoke calmly, unrushed, as if they had all the time in the world. But his strategy worked. Jimmy tilted his head a little and raised an eyebrow.
“Then what do you need, folks?”
“One of these guys mentioned you.”
“Huh?”
“The same witness who gave the descriptions said one of the men was saying they knew someone at lift maintenance who would give them a ride up the mountain, free of charge.”
The man shrugged. “I wasn’t here. I didn’t give no one no bloody ride up the mountain.”
“We know you didn’t,” Kay chimed in, seeing how defensive Jimmy was becoming. “We had the K-9 unit track their footsteps up to the ridge. We know they hiked.”
“Who would say that about you?” Elliot asked. “Do you have friends or anyone who could claim you’d do that for them? Run them up there for free?”
Jimmy scratched the roots of the unruly tuft of hair that marked the top of his head. “I don’t do that for anyone.” He pulled out a pack of smokes from his side pocket and lit up, sending a whirl of blue smoke in the air. “I mean, yeah, for cops or any other officials, I won’t charge. Mountain rescue? Sure. But the rest gotta pay or I go broke. I don’t run the lift in the summer. Told y’all that.”
Kay groaned silently and looked at Elliot, urging him to end the conversation. They were wasting time. The man had nothing. “Thank you, Mr. Bugarin.”
Jimmy turned to leave, but changed his mind. “Um, I’d make an exception for one my regulars, you know. For season pass holders.”
Kay’s eyes lit up. “Do you have many of those?”
“A few. These mountains are filled with San Francisco weekenders with more money than they can figure out what to do with. Season passes ain’t cheap. For one person, that’s eleven hundred, nine hundred if they’re a student or ex-military. For a family pass, that’s north of two grand for the winter, and I don’t care if it thaws early.”
Elliot whistled. “And that’s just for the lift?”
“Uh-huh.” Jimmy took another drag and blew it out slowly, savoring it. “Lift, parking, and ski storage in one of them lockers out back.”
“We need to see your records,” Kay said. A flicker of sheer panic lit up Jimmy’s eyes. “Just to see if we can identify who these men are, based on your credit card receipts.”
He bit his lip, while his eyes darted all over, panicked. “There’s not much credit card receipts, ma’am. I give discounts for cash business, and I write the receipts by hand. No real way to track anyone. If they lose their pass, they have to pay for another one.”
Kay looked at him intently. Maybe the IRS would have a field day with him, or maybe he was honestly paying his taxes as he should have. Either way, that wasn’t her business.
“But you’d recognize one of your seasonal pass holders if you saw him?”
“Yes, I bet I would, ’cause they’re on the slopes a whole lot, getting their money’s worth.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bugarin, we’ll be in touch later today when we have the composite.”
“I’ll be here, tinkering with this hunk o’ junk,” he mumbled, heading toward the terminal.
Elliot looked at Kay. She quickly looked away. “I know how to handle this,” she said, rushing toward the SUV. She climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. Elliot took the passenger seat and immediately fired up the laptop. “I have an idea too. Who uses the ski lift a lot? A passionate skier, right?”
