Poisoned Prose (A Books by the Bay Mystery)

smiled back at her, and Olivia could see that the two cousins genuinely cared for each other. There was tenderness in Lowell’s eyes when he looked at Dixie that made Olivia want to know him better.
    “It must have been so cold that night,” she said softly, hoping to return to the scene of Hicks’s death.
    Lowell took the bait. “My breath froze as soon as it left my mouth. After an hour or two, I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes or certain other parts of my body. Important parts.”
    That earned another smile from Dixie, but Olivia wasn’t interested in levity. “Go on,” she said.
    “The sky was coal black, but there was a full moon. We had just enough light to see by. When we finally got close to the place where Hicks thought the hollowed-out trunk was, it started to snow. Not the pretty Christmas kind of flakes, but the wet, get-under-your-collar stuff.” He gestured at the dry yard with his beer can. “Hard to imagine how cold it was in this kind of heat. How wet and icy cold. I kept saying that I was turning back, but I didn’t. I was worried about bears. Coyotes too.”
    “I thought bears hibernate in the winter,” Dixie teased. “You think they’d wake up just to snack on your scrawny hide?”
    Lowell didn’t laugh. “They don’t go into a deep sleep like bears in the North, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
    Olivia tried to picture the scene. An isolated mountain covered with dark trees, long shadows, and snow. Three shivering men following the landmarks described in Violetta’s story, climbing up and up as the night wore on.
    “When we couldn’t tell the difference between a log and a stone, the guide called it quits. Hicks refused to leave, so we started going down without him. He was yelling something to us from a crag when . . .” He paused to finish his drink. “When he was pushed.”
    He twisted the beer can in his hands until a silver gash appeared in its side. “I know it sounds crazy, but when I looked up, I saw something move toward Hicks. It was more like the outline of a person than a real person. A shape with huge black eyes. It put its hands out, and next thing I knew, Hicks was falling.”
    Dixie shuddered. Olivia waited for Lowell to continue, but his eyes had gone glassy again.
    “Did the guide see the shape too?” she asked.
    “No. He was focused on the trail.” Lowell fingered the jagged edge of his can and then dropped it on the ground. “I didn’t think it was real. With the snow and the moonlight, I thought my eyes had played tricks on me. But I saw it. And I saw him fall. I see it over and over every night. I can’t sleep for seeing it.”
    Olivia believed Lowell’s account of Hicks’s death. He’d witnessed something that hadn’t made sense to him. It had frightened him to the core.
    “Did you tell the police about the figure?”
    Lowell snorted. “Come on, lady. They’d have thought I’d been into the white lightning.”
    Dixie and Olivia exchanged befuddled glances.
    “Mule kick?” Lowell said. “Hillbilly pop, wild cat, blue John, bush liquor—”
    “Moonshine?” Olivia interrupted. “And had you?”
    “Not until later, after the men went out to collect Hicks’s body. They called the cops, but it took them ages to come, and I was pretty far gone by the time they showed up.” He laced his hands together and stared at his palms. “Our footprints were gone by then, too. It was like we’d never been there at all.”
    Olivia considered the implications of the snowfall. “So if the shape had been a real person, his tracks would have been covered as well.”
    “It wasn’t flesh and blood, I tell you.” Lowell’s voice was a low and angry rumble. “You could see the tree branches right through it.”
    “No wonder you can’t sleep,” Dixie whispered. “But that thing belongs to the mountains. You told me that it looked like someone strangled Violetta. It takes a strong person to do that, Lowell. Not a ghost.”
    “Then where’d he come from? Her killer?” Lowell challenged. “I was only outside loading the car for a few minutes, and when I went in to get the last of our stuff, that’s when I saw her.”
    “Did you hear voices?” Olivia asked. “Any signs of an argument or a physical struggle?”
    Lowell shook his head. “I closed the door behind me each time. Violetta didn’t care for surprise visitors, and it was my job to make sure no one got near her.”
    His failure to protect Violetta hung in the air.