Mountain Ice (David Dean Mysteries)

"If you keep buying 'opportunities' like Mr. Stanislaw's Salvation Army box, you'll be too broke to answer the door if a real opportunity does come knocking."

Cynthia jumped in to give Fred a hand. "It would be nice if we did have ghosts. We could advertise them in our brochure. It might pick up the Halloween season. Late October was a little slow." She bit back her smile and returned to her myriad of ornaments, carefully laying a tissue paper over a packed box of delicate pieces, merged memories of two families, joined now by a few items of their first Christmas together. "Fred might have a point," she continued. "Dreams always relate to something on your mind, don't they? What have you been thinking about? Pretty girls or just murder and mayhem?"

"Neither. It must be some movie I saw on TV or a book I read a long time ago."

She laughed. "The only thing you watch on TV is football and the last 'book' you read was a bicycle magazine."

"I'm speaking hypothetically," he grumbled. "Just because my conscious mind doesn't remember doesn't mean my subconscious didn't dredge it up with the steak and onions we had for dinner."

"Now you're going to blame my cooking," she said with burlesque severity that made him smile.

"Why are you busting my chops today?" he asked as Fred rose and wandered back to the kitchen for more food.

"I guess I'm just frisky because it's so quiet around here."

"Let's take advantage of it," Dean suggested. "Bird Song's going to be close to empty for a few more days until the ice climbers arrive. How about getting outdoors this afternoon?"

Cynthia readily agreed. They discussed their options-snowshoeing and cross country skiing-but decided to try out the ice skates that they had purchased for one another for Christmas.

When the Deans first arrived in Ouray, they weren't sure how they'd adapt to the long winters but when the first serious snow blanketed the western Colorado Mountains in early December they took up winter sports with the enthusiasm of children. Ouray County was perfect for invigorating outdoor activity, with its crystal clear air and dry, windless temperatures just below freezing. Most days were blessed by a sun that warmed you enough that a couple of heavy sweaters were more than adequate outer wear. And the Ouray County scenery, regardless of the season, always provided a spectacular backdrop to any enterprise.

Fred O'Connor strolled back to the room, his platter replenished, the garage sale section of the newspaper tucked beneath his arm. "So who's our new guest?" he asked.

Cynthia described the woman and boy. Dean was hoping his wife would refrain from expressing her concerns about the woman, but no such luck. He cringed as Cynthia described her giving two different names, allowing Fred yet another shot at constructing a mystery.