by Mary Daheim
Judith was about to inquire into Margo Chang’s background when Margo entered the kitchen. She had come through the dining room and was carrying a mug of hot coffee.
“Thank God,” she murmured. “The lifeline is open.”
“Dig in,” Renie urged, indicating the fruit and the cereal boxes.
Margo shook her head. “Right now, all I need is coffee. God, I was awake half the night. I kept thinking I heard someone trying to get into my room. It was just nerves, but it didn’t make for decent rest.”
Judith finished culling strawberries and leaned against the counter across from Margo, who’d sat down on one of the tall stools. “My cousin was just filling me in on who’s who in the company. How long have you been with OTIOSE, Margo?”
Taking a deep, satisfying swig of coffee, Margo eyed Judith warily. “What is this—a grilling of suspects?”
“No, no,” Judith said in her most self-deprecating manner. “I feel lost in this group. Which is kind of scary, all things considered. I’m just curious. You can’t blame me for wondering what I’ve gotten into.”
“That’s what we’re all wondering.” Margo made a face. “At the first sign of clear weather, I’m walking out of here, heading for the summit, and ordering a car to collect me. Then I’m going straight home to write my letter of resignation. This is one terrifying phone company.”
“I don’t blame you,” Renie put in. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes trying to explain all this to the media.”
Margo’s plain face looked drawn. “The worst is yet to come.”
Judith tensed. “What do you mean?”
Margo had set the coffee mug down on the counter, almost in the exact spot where the cousins had found Leon. “I mean, when the killer is unmasked, or whatever they call it in mystery novels.” The almond-shaped eyes darted from Judith to Renie. “Until last night, I honestly believed that some outsider murdered Barry. But it’s different now that Leon’s dead. Nobody could have gotten into the lodge.” Her lower lip trembled. “Don’t you see? It has to be one of us.”
EIGHT
IN THE STRAINED atmosphere of the kitchen, Judith felt the full impact of being sealed off from the rest of the world. Yet all three women carried on, perhaps in the hope that their mundane tasks could keep terror at bay. Margo drank more coffee, Judith took a fruit platter out to the dining room, and Renie flipped bacon. The snow continued to fall.
“It was seven years ago,” Margo said suddenly when Judith returned to the kitchen. “That’s when I joined OTIOSE. I’d been working in p.r. for a public utility company in California. I wanted a change, and L.A. was turning into a zoo.” She uttered a brittle laugh. “I should have stayed there. I didn’t know when I was well off.”
“Were you hired in at the officer level?” Renie asked.
“No. I went to work for Herb Oldman, who had the good sense to die of a heart attack three years later. I got his job, and thought I was on top of the world. Now I feel as if it’s caved in on me.” Margo held her head in her hands.
“Excuse me.” The uncertain voice came from the doorway where Russell Craven stood, his fair hair even more unruly than usual. “May I please have some cream? Real cream, if you have it.”
Judith went to the refrigerator. “How are you doing, Mr. Craven?” she asked with an encouraging smile.
“Doing?” He patted the bump on his head. “Not very well. This hasn’t been a congenial experience so far.”
Judith poured cream into a ceramic pitcher. “No one can be feeling good this morning,” she commiserated. “Are you really going to continue with your meetings?”
Russell exchanged a questioning look with Margo. “I suppose,” he said. “What else is there to do? We can’t leave. I went to the front door just now and when I opened it, a pile of snow fell on me. I could barely close it again.”
“Great.” Margo set her mug down with a thump. “We should have paid more attention to the forecast. Why do we always assume the weatherman is off-base? And why doesn’t somebody come get us? Aren’t there search and rescue people around here?”
“They’re probably having enough trouble with people stranded on the highway and at the ski areas,” Judith said, then went to the phone. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try…”
The line was still dead. The spark of hope that had appeared in the eyes of the others flickered and died. Judith gave them a rueful look.
“Sorry. But breakfast is almost ready.”
Russell and Margo didn’t budge. It occurred to Judith that they preferred staying in a group. As if to underscore the conferees’ feelings, Max Agasias and Ward Haugland appeared next, entering from the laundry room.
Max went straight to Russell and put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Hey, no hard feelings about last night. I lost my temper, that’s all. Sometimes I get pretty damned frustrated with the second-class way my marketing people are treated.”
Russell recoiled slightly, but managed a small smile. “We’re all protective of our own shops,” he said simply.
“Coffee’s ready in the dining room,” Judith announced as a furtive Nadia Weiss slipped into the kitchen.
“I saw it,” she said in a nervous voice. “But I…well, I thought I’d wait.” Her blue eyes darted every which way, then came to rest on Russell. “Shall we get coffee now? Or…?”
“We’ll all go,” Max said.
“I need a refill,” Margo chimed in. The five of them trooped off to the dining room.
Judith began cracking eggs in a frying pan. “Take that toaster out and plug it into the outlet with the coffee urn,” she said to Renie. “It’s almost eight. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
They were, except for Andrea. As Judith dished fried eggs directly onto the conferees’ plates, Frank Killegrew opined that his vice president-human resources was probably too upset to come down for breakfast.
“Andrea was fond of Leon,” Killegrew said, passing the toast around the table. “I mean, really fond of him. She took his death pretty hard.”
“Oh, Frank.” Margo was shaking her head.
“What?” Killegrew stared at Margo.
“We’re all taking it hard,” Margo asserted. “Don’t you get it, Frank? Somebody is out to kill us.”
“That’s extreme,” Gene Jarman said quietly. “We mustn’t jump to conclusions. Nobody knows for certain what happened to Barry Newcombe.”
“We know he’s dead,” said Ava Aunuu. “That’s not a good sign.”
Gene’s calm brown eyes rested on Ava. “It could have been an accident. Think it through, consider the exigencies. Barry went off to the store or wherever just before a storm like this one hit. He could have returned in the middle of it, lost his way, and sought refuge in that cave or whatever it was. He froze to death. It happens.”
“With a leather strap around his neck?” Ava sneered at Gene. “So what happened to Leon? He smothered himself in angel food cake?”
“I thought he was hit on the head,” put in Russell, who again fingered his own skull and winced.
“Afraid so,” Ward mumbled. “It’s a nasty business, all right.”
“The point is,” Killegrew said between mouthfuls of fried egg, “we might as well carry on. We can’t leave, and there are plenty of items left on our agenda. As long as the cabin’s still airtight, we can fly.”
“You’re right, Frank,” Ward agreed. “Besides, it’ll keep our minds off…this other stuff.” The second-in-command lowered his eyes to his breakfast plate.
Judith, who was reaching between Nadia and Gene to set a coffee carafe on the table, summoned up her courage. “Excuse me. I have a small announcement.”
All eyes veered in her direction. To her acute embarrassment, she blushed. “Someone took Barry’s items out of my handbag last night.”
“Cripes!” exclaimed Ward.
“Oh no!” cried Nadia.
“Ridiculous,” murmured Gene.
“That does it!” Margo
threw down her napkin and stood up. “Isn’t there some way we can get help? This is a nightmare!”
“Now, now,” Killegrew said, though he sounded shaken. “Has anybody tried the phone this morning?”
“I did,” Judith responded. “It still doesn’t work.”
Max Agasias sat far back in his chair, balancing his burly body in what struck Judith as a precarious position. “You see? What do we tell our customers? Go cellular, go wireless—and never leave home without it. I guess only OTIOSE people are too damned dumb to take marketing’s advice.”
Margo, who was pacing back and forth in front of the buffet, swung around. “Well? Did you bring your cell phone, Max? Did you take your own bright-eyed advice?”
Max locked his hands behind his head and grinned. “Hell, no. I followed Frank’s orders here, like a good little Nazi.”
Russell Craven was shaking his head. “My, my. No cell phones, no laptops, no pagers, no…” He stopped and looked somewhat diffidently at Killegrew. “Wouldn’t you think,” Russell said quietly, “that there would be a battery-powered two-way radio around this lodge?”
“Dubious,” Max responded dryly. “Why would they need it? We sell complete communications systems, and old-fashioned battery-driven radios are dinosaurs.”
“We could look,” Gene put in. “They might have one stored in the basement.”
“It’s an idea,” Killegrew allowed, though he, too, sounded dubious.
“Forget the damned radio,” Margo implored. “I want to know how somebody got into Ms. Flynn’s handbag.”
Judith explained how she had left the bag in their room when the cousins had come down to get a snack. “I didn’t discover the theft until this morning,” she added, “but it probably occurred before Ms. Jones and I finally retired some time after midnight.”
“You said you didn’t lock the door?” Gene Jarman had assumed his role of witness interrogator.
“No,” Judith replied. “It didn’t seem so important to keep people out when we weren’t inside.”
A silence fell over the dining room. Margo began to pace again, Ward toyed with his food, Russell sat with his chin on his hand, Ava stared off into space, Gene sipped coffee, Nadia twisted her hands in her lap, Max twirled a piece of melon on his fork, and Frank Killegrew grabbed the coffee carafe. Judith went back into the kitchen.
“I eavesdropped,” Renie admitted. “Do I detect a note of desperation?”
“Several,” Judith said. “Some are louder than others.”
The cousins remained on kitchen duty for another half-hour, eating their own breakfasts between treks into the dining room. Shortly before ten, the conferees headed in a body to the lobby. Apparently, it was business as usual.
Judith and Renie were clearing the table when Ava and Nadia reappeared. “We’ve formed a buddy system,” Ava announced. “Nobody goes anywhere alone, including to the bathroom. In fact, we’re thinking about sharing bedrooms tonight. If we’re still here.”
It was unclear if Ava’s reference was literal or—really literal. “Good idea,” Judith remarked. “My cousin and I are sticking together like glue.”
“If only,” Nadia sighed, “Leon had taken Andrea with him last night when he came down to get the cake. Or if Barry had asked one of us to go with him a year ago. I would gladly have accompanied him on his errand. I’m used to fetching and carrying.” Only a hint of bitterness was evident in her voice.
“You couldn’t guess what would happen to either of them,” Ava said, not unkindly.
“I enjoyed talking to Barry,” Nadia went on as if she hadn’t heard the other woman. “He always had all the news.”
“Gossip, you mean.” Ava’s tone was good-natured. Judith noticed that she looked reasonably rested. Or perhaps it was the rich blue high-necked sweater and slacks ensemble she was wearing. It was the one that Judith had seen in the suitcase, and it was definitely a becoming color with Ava’s dark complexion.
“Yes, gossip.” Nadia smiled, producing a rather charming effect despite the obvious strain on her thin face. “You see,” she said to Judith and Renie, “Barry heard everything. Staff assistants usually do. And he had this most ingenious way about him. If he had an interesting piece of news—”
“Gossip,” Ava interjected.
“If you like.” Nadia darted Ava an amused glance. “Anyway, when he heard something truly interesting, he’d call around and ask if whoever he was speaking to had any recent tidbit. If that person—”
“You,” put in Ava.
“Possibly,” Nadia agreed, “but by no means just me. If you—”
“He never called me with gossip,” Ava asserted.
“You know what I mean.” Nadia was growing impatient at the interruptions. “If you had something worthwhile to tell, then he’d reveal what he knew. It was like a game.”
A deadly game, Judith thought, with a quick look at Renie.
“From what I’ve heard,” Ava said, nibbling at one of the leftover strawberries, “most of his so-called news was about who used the Cloud Room.”
“The Cloud Room?” Judith echoed.
“Now, Ava,” Nadia began with a reproachful expression. “Don’t go telling tales out…”
“Come on, Nadia, you started it.” Ava waved a contemptuous hand. “I don’t think so-called Cloud Rooms are exclusive to OTIOSE these days. In this case, there are actually two of them, the men’s and women’s rest rooms on the twenty-ninth floor. It’s where employees go to do cocaine.”
“Oh!” Judith was shocked, even though she knew she shouldn’t have been. Joe constantly railed against the onslaught of drug traffic in the city. “Is this a big problem?”
“That depends on the individual,” Ava replied, despite a warning glare from Nadia. “In some cases, it doesn’t appear to affect a person’s work. In others, it’s ruinous. I had to recommend the firing of two people in the past year, and authorize rehab for another half dozen. OTIOSE contracts out with a firm that deals in addiction among corporate employees.”
Leaning against the counter, Renie nodded. “Newer Resolutions, isn’t it? I did some design work for them two years ago. As I recall, in most companies, it’s a three-strikes-and-you’re-out program.”
“That’s right,” Ava agreed. “At least it is with OTIOSE. The company will pay for two rehab sessions, but after that, you’re gone and on your own.”
“Why,” Judith asked, “can’t they nip it in the bud? That is, if they know where employees go—to this so-called Cloud Room—why don’t they stop the drug use right there?”
“Because,” Ava answered, “they’d simply go somewhere else. Our headquarters is a thirty-story building. There are lots and lots of places to do drugs. And that’s just during office hours.”
“Sad,” Judith murmured.
“But true.” Ava gave Nadia a gentle shove. “Let’s go, we’re holding up progress. Frank wants to start the meeting in ten minutes, and we’ve got to get Andrea down here.”
The two women went off through the laundry room to the back stairs. Judith eyed Renie. “What floor are the executives on at headquarters?”
“Thirty.” Renie’s lips twitched.
“That’s what I thought,” said Judith.
Judith had just turned on the dishwasher when she heard the screams. Renie jumped and knocked a cereal box off the counter. An eerie silence ensued.
“What was that?” Renie asked in a startled voice.
“It was a scream. Or screams.” Judith was trembling. “Where did it come from? And,” she gulped, “why did it stop?”
Cautiously, the cousins went into the laundry room, then as far as the bottom of the back stairs. They heard nothing.
“Maybe it wasn’t upstairs,” Renie whispered. “Maybe it was downstairs, in the basement.”
Judith glanced around the small hallway where the top of the basement stairs could be seen near the rear entrance. “Maybe. But I’m not going down there. Let’s go into the lobby and find
out if anybody else heard anything.”
If the others hadn’t heard the screams, they now saw a most alarming sight. Ava and Nadia were huddled in the open elevator, seemingly paralyzed by fear. Just as the door automatically started to close, Ava hurtled into the lobby. Nadia stumbled behind her.
Gene and Max rushed to meet the women. “What the hell…?” shouted Max, grabbing Nadia before she fell.
“It’s Andrea,” Ava gasped, leaning against Gene. “She killed herself! Andrea’s dead!”
NINE
AVA BURIED HER face against Gene’s shoulder. Max half-carried Nadia to the nearest sofa, almost bumping into a dazed Russell Craven, who was wandering around the wide hearth, glassy-eyed and muttering to himself. Frank Killegrew and Ward Haugland simply stared at one another. Margo Chang picked up her black suede bag and pulled out a Ladysmith .38 Special revolver.
“If anybody comes near me, they’re dead!” she shrieked. “Nobody’s going to kill me, nobody’s going to drive me to suicide! I’m getting out of here alive!”
“Margo!” Killegrew turned white. “Is that thing loaded?”
“You bet!” Margo swung the gun around the room, taking aim at each of the others in turn. “I know how to use it, too! I go to the range once a month!”
“My God!” Killegrew sank down on the sofa next to Nadia.
“You know,” Russell said, no longer wandering around the hearth but edging nervously away from Margo, “firearms are very dangerous. Do you realize you should never point a gun at anyone unless you intend to use it?”
“Shut up, Russell!” She pointed the gun straight at him. “Of course I know that! Furthermore, I’ve got a concealed weapons permit, a federal firearms license, a long-standing membership in the NRA, and I belong to the local chapter of OFF, the Organization of Firearms for Females.”
“Then you’re legal.” Gene Jarman shrugged.
“Now, now,” Killegrew said without his usual hearty reassurance, “let’s not get excited. Andrea’s the problem here. I can hardly believe she’d kill herself.”
With a wary eye on Margo, Gene led Ava to one of the other sofas. “Brandy would be in order,” he said to no one in particular.