Snow Place to Die

by Mary Daheim

  “The files,” Judith murmured. “Andrea’s personnel files have disappeared—according to Max—and there must be a reason.” She set down the soda can and clapped her hands. “That’s it! That’s the link! Barry and Andrea worked in human resources. Andrea had all the dirt. Barry loved dirt, he traded bits of gossip. As a staff assistant, wouldn’t he have access to her files?”

  Renie nodded. “To her official files, yes. But Andrea may have had CYOA files, too. She may have kept them in a safe place.”

  Judith looked blank. “What’s a CYOA file?”

  Renie grinned. “It stands for ‘Cover Your Own Ass,’ excuse my French. It’s anything you keep that you can use to protect yourself or hold over someone else. It can be as simple as a phone message you received from somebody who might later deny they called you. Or it can be photographs of your CEO in bed with a donkey.”

  Judith’s excitement returned. “That’s good. That’s great. Like I said, the files are the link.”

  “Maybe.” Renie was definitely dubious. “How do they link up with Ward and Leon?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet, but they must,” Judith insisted.

  Renie finished her Pepsi. “Sleep on it. I’m tired, let’s turn out the lights.”

  Judith regarded Renie with wonderment. “You’re not afraid?”

  “You’re the one who dreamed up our insurance policy.” She glanced at Judith with alarm. “Don’t tell me you think it lapsed?”

  “So far, so good.” But Judith got up and started moving one of the two armchairs to the door. “Just in case the policy expires,” she said with a sickly smile. “And to make sure that we don’t.”

  “What about the windows?” Renie asked.

  Judith glanced across the room. “They’re latched from the inside. We’re okay. Oh!” She put a hand to her head. “Which is another reason why an outsider couldn’t have gotten in.”

  Renie went to one of the windows and jiggled the catch. “It wouldn’t take much to break this. Besides, we don’t know what the third-floor windows are like.”

  “Forget it,” Judith said with finality. “It’s after eleven, you’re right, we’re tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

  Renie was still fiddling with the window catch. “Let’s take turns sleeping.”

  “Fine. You stay up first. Wake me around eight.” Judith got into bed.

  “To hell with it.” Renie got into bed, too.

  The cousins slept.

  They were awakened by an explosion. Judith jumped up, got entangled in the bedclothes, and struggled to free herself. Had someone set off a bomb? She panicked, but finally managed to extricate herself and looked in every direction.

  Renie was wrestling with the pillow, trying to cover her head. “Stupid Bulgarians,” she muttered. “Why are they always working on their damned condos across the street? Why don’t they build something back home in Blagoevgrad?”

  Judith was at the door, shoving the armchair out of the way. “Wake up, you’re not on Heraldsgate Hill, you’re at Mountain Goat Lodge.” As she cautiously opened the door, another explosion sounded. “It’s outside. What now?” She rushed to the windows, then gaped. “It’s raining! Maybe that was thunder!”

  “It’s the Bulgarians,” Renie repeated, her voice muffled by the pillow. “Ignore them and go back to sleep.”

  Judith ignored Renie. A glance at her watch told her it was just after seven-thirty. The morning was very gray, with rain pelting the snow. Judith waited for a flash of lightning, but heard only another loud, shuddering noise.

  “That’s not thunder,” she said. “What could it be?”

  Renie finally removed the pillow and struggled to sit up. “Damn. You’re determined to annoy me.” She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and stretched. “Okay, you win. What explosions?”

  Judith turned away from the window. “Didn’t you hear them?”

  Renie yawned again. “I heard something, or else I wouldn’t be awake. I told you, it sounds like the Bulgarians across the street from our house. They’re always renovating or adding on or digging up or tearing…”

  A fourth explosion interrupted Renie. “That’s not the Bulgarians,” Judith declared.

  “Probably not,” Renie agreed, cocking her head. “It’s the avalanche crew.”

  Judith was startled. “What avalanche crew?”

  “You said it’s raining?” Renie yanked back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. “Then it’s gotten much warmer during the night, which, after a heavy snowfall, means there’s an avalanche danger. To prevent disasters, the crews set off explosions to break up the snow. I thought everybody knew that.”

  “If I did, I’d forgotten,” Judith murmured, moving away from the windows. “Great—now the roof will cave in. What next, plague and locusts?”

  “Floods,” Renie responded. “Maybe fires.” She reached for a cigarette.

  “Oh, no! Not this early!” Judith railed. “Haven’t you run out of those things yet?”

  Renie shook her head. “I brought a whole carton with me. Why do you care? Your mother still smokes. Joe has his cigars. What’s wrong with Little Renie’s little weedies?”

  “They stink,” Judith retorted, waving away a cloud of smoke. “Mother shouldn’t smoke. She’s so forgetful, but when I try to talk to her about it, she gets ornery. The last time I caught her putting a lighted cigarette in her housecoat pocket, she pulled it out and tried to stick it in Sweetums’s mouth. I swear I saw Sweetums inhale.”

  “Ghastly,” Renie remarked, puffing away. “Are we doing breakfast?”

  “Not for them,” Judith said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the corridor. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m tired of waiting on those spoiled brats.”

  “There might be fewer of them this morning,” Renie noted with an ominous look.

  “Don’t say that,” Judith shot back. Suddenly she went back to the window. “Look,” she called to Renie, “the snow outside the sill has melted a good four or five inches. Do you think we might get out of here today?”

  “Not if there are avalanche warnings,” Renie replied, 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 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 ca
n 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?”

  “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 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.”

  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-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 hes
itated.

  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.”

  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.”