Its the playground of snow, and gold. And she was at its heart. Beautiful, privileged. Magnetic. Whether it was a taxi driver or her movie star friends. She had a very genuine connection with people. But what happened one night in her secluded chalet sent shivers through this glamorous ski town. Oh my god. No. I was going into shock. Hyperventilating. Murdered in her sleep. It was a crime of rage. Where would investigators start . An exboyfriend . There were some stories about a jilted lover. Her new tenants . They were a couple that had been pushed over the edge. Her old friend . I just remember the hair. There is no way that she saw what she said she saw. The real killer would stun them all. Took my world and just flip it upside down. We were all wrong everybody was wrong in this case. [inaudible] oh my god. A cold night. February 2014. 911 colors can also be hysterical. This one was all but in comprehensible. I thought mys friend in the closet. She is dead. But then, the sort of thi
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Sometimes nature surprises us by transforming an otherwise ordinary day into something extraordinary. This happened for Nancy Hempstead, who rose early as usual on the morning of November 14, 1833 to .