by Mary Daheim
stubbing out her cigarette and heading for the bathroom.
“They’ll close the pass. They always do.”
As soon as Renie disappeared, Judith opened both windows to air out the room. The explosions had stopped. Judith
wondered where the blasts had been set off. Perhaps at the
summit, where the main ski areas and the private chalets
were located. Though loud, the booms hadn’t sounded very
close. Maybe there was no danger around the lodge.
But there was danger inside, Judith reminded herself
grimly. Half an hour later, she and Renie were in the kitchen.
It was a shambles. Coffee had been spilled all over the
counter, egg yolk dripped down the front of the stove, there
was burned toast in the sink, and a broken cereal bowl lay
in several pieces on the floor.
“Pigs!” Judith cried. “Look at this mess!”
“It’s not our mess,” Renie pointed out. “Shall I tell Frank
Killegrew to come in here and clean up?”
“Yes.” Judith folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, I’d
like to see that. I’m sick of these jerks.”
Renie started to shake her head, then straightened her
shoulders and marched out to the dining room. Vaguely astonished, Judith followed.
“Okay,” Renie barked, “we’re padlocking the kitchen
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 213
unless you lazy swine get off your dead butts. You have five
minutes.”
Judith saw the seven disbelieving faces stare at Renie.
Seven, she thought. They’re all still alive and eating breakfast.
Why am I surprised?
Nadia got to her feet. “Of course we’ll tidy up. I always
tidy up. Ava, Margo, let’s all pitch in.”
Margo held onto the edge of the table as if she thought it
might levitate. “Screw it, Nadia. One of the men can help.
Why should Ava and I get stuck with so-called women’s
work? Why should you, for that matter? Stand up for yourself for once.”
Nadia looked shocked. “It’s no trouble. Really, Margo…”
“I can wash dishes,” Russell offered with a sheepish expression. “I do it whenever I run out of plates.”
Margo snapped her fingers at Russell. “Then do it here.
Get going.” Russell scurried away, while Nadia started to
follow him. Margo, however, put out a restraining arm. “No,
you don’t. Let one of these bozos go with Russell.” Her
withering glance took in Killegrew, Max, and Gene.
“Why not?” Gene said with a shrug. “I’m single, like Russell. I have to fend for myself sometimes.”
Margo dropped her arm but kept her attention on Nadia.
“What are you going to do when Frank retires? You’re not
yet fifty, you’re too young to retire. Are you going to hang
on with OTIOSE and be a slave for the next CEO?”
Nadia lifted her pointed chin. “Frank’s not going to retire.
How can he, after all this?”
“Isn’t that up to the board of directors?” Max’s expression
was puzzled as he regarded his chief.
Killegrew held his head. “Of course it is. I’ll be sixty-five
in June, which is the mandatory retirement age. Of course,”
he continued in a thoughtful voice, “the board could change
the by-laws.”
“Maybe they will.” Ava’s tone was bland. “Why not,
Frank?”
214 / Mary Daheim
“Well…” Killegrew scowled at Ava, then brushed toast
crumbs from his plaid shirt. “If WaCom really plans to attempt a merger with us, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep
the same skipper at the helm of the S.S. OTIOSE.”
Max was now looking more worried than puzzled. “Are
you saying you won’t fight the merger, Frank? Hell, you
won’t officially retire until June. This deal’s supposed to
come down next week.”
“I haven’t charted our course yet,” Killegrew replied. “How
can I, without a first mate? Ward’s…gone.”
“Name someone to fill his spot,” Margo said, finally sitting
down again. “The board can ratify the appointment later.
You can exercise emergency powers. If,” she added dryly,
“there ever was an emergency, this weekend is it.”
Judith thought that was an understatement. Still standing
by the door, she peeked into the kitchen. Somewhat to her
surprise, Russell and Gene were hard at work. The vice
president—research and development was scrubbing the
stove; the company’s legal counsel was sweeping the floor.
Judith quietly closed the door.
“We should discuss this,” Killegrew said. “Formally, I
mean. Nadia, bring my coffee into the game room. We’ll
take a meeting there. Get Gene and Russell out of the kitchen.”
Five minutes later, the OTIOSE contingent had adjourned
to the game room. Renie surveyed the mess they had left
behind in the dining room. “So much for my big mouth,”
she said. “Now I suppose I won’t get the graphic design
consulting contract.”
“Do you still want it?” Judith asked, forcing herself not to
start clearing away the table.
“Sure,” Renie answered, heading for the kitchen. “If I
turned down jobs from all the corporate types I thought were
unethical or arrogant or even criminal, I’d go broke. As long
as their money doesn’t have pictures of Bugs Bunny on it,
I’ll take it straight to the bank.”
The kitchen, at least, looked almost clean. Judith and
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 215
Renie made toast, fixed bowls of cereal, and poured coffee.
“I guess we won’t be going to church this Sunday,” Judith
said in a wry voice.
“I guess not,” Renie agreed. “I wonder if Father Hoyle has
ever heard an excuse like ours for missing Mass?”
“You mean, ‘I didn’t attend church last Sunday because I
was trapped inside a mountain lodge during a blizzard and
possible avalanches with three dead bodies and a homicidal
maniac?’” Judith laughed, a slightly bitter sound. “As excuses
go, it’s not bad. Let’s hope Father Hoyle believes us.”
“He will,” Renie said, opening a jar of boysenberry jam.
“I’m sure he recalls a rather lethal Easter Bunny a few years
ago at Our Lady, Star of the Sea.”
“Don’t remind me,” Judith said. Given their current situation, she wasn’t in the mood to think back to the deadly
doings in her home parish. “Hey,” she burst out, knocking
the spoon out of her cereal, “let’s go exploring.”
Renie’s eyes widened. “Where? Not the third floor—I
don’t need to see any more bodies.”
“The files,” Judith said. “Somebody must have them. What
do you bet that most of these people don’t lock their doors
after they leave their rooms? We didn’t.”
“They would if they had the files,” Renie countered. “If
they haven’t destroyed them, they’d stash them somewhere
no one else would think to look.”
“Good point.” Judith was momentarily subdued. “Do you
really think they’ll talk Frank into not retiring?”
Renie narrowed her eyes. “What do you think?”
; “He doesn’t sound like a man who wants to retire,” Judith
said after a brief pause. “I’ve never heard him mention a
single thing about what he plans to do. Joe’s already sending
away for information on fishing trips.”
“He should have asked Bill,” Renie said. “My husband’s
got a suitcase full of fishing brochures, not to mention cruises,
Amtrak trips, and half the hotel-casinos in Vegas.”
216 / Mary Daheim
Abruptly, Judith stood up. “Let’s go.”
“You’re serious.” Reluctantly, Renie set her coffee mug on
the counter.
Judith nodded. “Two points—first, would whoever stole
the files keep them or burn them? Second, whoever didn’t
take them might not lock their doors. We can get rid of some
suspects.”
“Somebody’s already doing that,” Renie remarked, but she
followed Judith to the back stairs.
Andrea’s room wore a desolate air. But it had definitely
been disturbed since the cousins had searched it. The daily
planner was lying on the spare bed and the personnel files
were gone.
Max’s room was also unlocked. It looked virtually the
same as it had when Judith and Renie had gone with him to
look out the windows. There were no items of interest, and
it appeared that nothing had been burned in the grate except
logs and kindling.
The same was true of Russell’s room. Indeed, it was so
Spartan that it might never have been occupied. The cousins
moved on to Ava, who, they recalled was staying next door
to Russell. Somewhat to their surprise, Ava hadn’t locked
her door, either.
“I suppose there’s no point,” Judith mused. “They’re all
together during the day, or at least in pairs.”
“True,” Renie agreed. “If they don’t have anything to hide,
why bother?”
Judith scanned the top of the bureau where Ava kept her
personal items. There was a hairbrush, a mascara wand, an
emery board, and a packet of birth control pills.
“Maintenance or prevention?” Judith inquired with a sly
smile.
“Either one. Both. Lots of women take the pill for reasons
other than contraception,” Renie noted.
“That’s so.” Judith opened the small closet. The only items
hanging there were a yellow flannel nightgown, a black
bathrobe edged with white piping, and the red jewel- SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 217
necked sweater and woolen slacks Judith had borrowed.
“Odd,” Judith said under her breath.
“What’s odd?” Renie came to stand next to Judith.
“Why hasn’t Ava worn that red outfit? All three days, she’s
had on either the blue or the green ensemble. Wouldn’t you
change clothes if you had any?”
“Sure,” Renie responded. “Maybe Ava doesn’t want to wear
that one because you did. No offense, coz,” she went on,
poking Judith in the ribs, “but some people are funny about
things like that. Besides, Ava said she didn’t care much about
clothes.”
“Yes, she did,” Judith said, giving the red outfit one last
curious look.
They moved on, but the next room they checked was
locked. “Who is it?” Renie asked. “Gene?”
“I think so. I’m trying to remember who came out of where
when we brought the latest gloomy news.”
“Gene would lock up,” Renie said. “He’s a lawyer.”
Judith pointed to the damaged door across the hall. “That’s
Ward’s room. Shall we?”
“Well…” Renie hesitated.
Judith didn’t. She opened the door, but everything seemed
the same as it had been when she’d accompanied the others
in their futile search for OTIOSE’s executive vice president.
“No sign of a struggle,” Judith murmured. “Do you realize
that Ward must have been lying outside those windows while
we looked around for him in here?”
Renie grimaced. “Why didn’t anybody look outside?”
“It never occurred to any of us, I guess. Besides, Ward’s
body must have sunk into the snow before it slid inside the
lobby.” Judith checked the grate, the closet, the bathroom,
then went to the windows. The rain was still pouring down
and the snow had melted another two inches. The dull, gray
morning light cast a pall over the landscape.
“At least we can see something out there,” Renie noted.
“Not that there’s much to see except melting snow.”
218 / Mary Daheim
Judith, however, wasn’t looking at the gloomy scenery.
She opened one of the windows which, like the others in the
guest rooms, swung inward. “Stand here, coz. I’m going to
try to kill you.”
“Oh, goody,” Renie said, but complied.
Judith approached Renie from behind. “Lean out over the
sill, as if you were looking for something.”
“Okay.” Renie leaned, bracing herself on the window
frame.
Judith contemplated her cousin’s bent-over form. “This
isn’t working. I can’t kill you because you’re too short. Let’s
change places. You sneak up behind me and put a garrote
around my neck.”
“I don’t have a garrote.” Renie gazed around the small
room. “Wasn’t Ward killed with a belt?”
“Yes. His own, presumably.” Judith sighed. “I’m getting
soaked. Use a towel.”
Renie grabbed a bath towel. “Here I come,” she said.
“Ooof!” Her assault on Judith went awry. Renie collapsed
on top of Judith. “I can’t reach your neck,” she complained.
“I may be too short, but you’re too tall.”
Judith backed up, sending Renie into the bureau. “My
point exactly,” she said, closing the window. “I’m five inches
taller than you are. Ward was about six-one. Maybe we can
eliminate Russell and Nadia. She’s not as tall as you are, and
Russell can’t be much over five-eight.”
“Margo’s no taller than that,” Renie noted, regaining her
balance. “What if Ward was sitting down?”
“Where?” Judith looked around. The armchairs were at
the other side of the room.
Renie pointed to the space between the windows. “On the
honor bar. Heck, anywhere. Whoever killed him must have
had to push him out the window.”
“That indicates strength,” Judith said, running her hands
through her hair which had gotten quite wet while she hung
out of the window. “Oh, shoot—we’ve been through all
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 219
this. An adrenaline rush can accomplish just about anything.”
Renie was heading for the door. “I’ve had a good time,
but this wasn’t it,” she said. “Let’s finish our fruitless search.”
“Okay,” sighed Judith, then stopped next to the bureau.
“Did you see this?”
“What?” Renie sounded impatient.
Judith bent down. “It’s some kind of pin. You must have
knocked it loose when you fell against the bureau. It says,
‘Bell System—twenty-five years service.’”
> Renie examined the pin and nodded. “So who has twentyfive years of service before coming to OTIOSE? Ward comes
to mind. It’s probably his.”
Judith’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. “Oh, well. I
was hoping it would point to somebody else.” She took the
pin from Renie and placed it on the bureau.
It didn’t surprise the cousins to find that Margo had locked
her door. Nadia’s was open, however. Unlike the other
rooms, hers was cluttered. Clothes, cosmetics, notebooks,
paperbacks, perfume, and enough lingerie to last through an
arctic winter filled every nook and cranny. But none of it
seemed pertinent to the murders.
“This must be Frank’s room,” Judith said, nodding at the
door next to Nadia’s.
It was also unlocked, and if not cluttered, it was messy.
Frank Killegrew was obviously not a man who was used to
looking after himself. The bed was unmade, the cap was off
the toothpaste tube, the sink was full of whiskers. But except
for evidence of being spoiled, the cousins found nothing.
“That’s it,” Renie declared. “We flunked. I think I’ll go
downstairs and smoke a lot.”
Judith started to trudge after Renie to the elevator, then
called to her cousin to wait up. “Leon—we forgot about him.”
220 / Mary Daheim
“He’s eminently forgettable,” Renie responded. “Alas, poor
Leon.”
The room was unlocked. The bed, where Andrea had
waited for the man who never came to share his angel food
cake, was still in disarray. The extra pillow, which Judith
had put behind Andrea’s head, remained in place.
The only difference was that Nadia Weiss was lying on
the spare bed, and she was obviously quite dead.
SIXTEEN
“THIS…CAN’T…BE…happening,” Judith gasped.
Renie was stunned. She neither spoke nor moved, but
simply stood at the foot of the bed and stared at Nadia with
unblinking eyes.
“Coz…” Judith began, but also found herself at a loss for
words.
Nadia Weiss lay on her side, the right arm extended, the
left curled around her stomach. Her face was contorted and
her stockinged feet dangled over the edge of the bed. She
was fully clothed, though her large-rimmed glasses lay carefully folded on the nightstand.
Judith knew it was useless, but she finally moved closer
and tried to take Nadia’s pulse. “She’s still warm.” Judith let