Celia rose and stood in front of me, as if to block his path. “Molly, need I remind you that you have an obligation to—”
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he began, “but I just wanted to tell ya not to go making plans about leaving anytime soon. Heard on the radio that there’s been a rockslide on Route Seven a mile or so down the road. It’ll be early morning at best till they’ve had a chance to reopen.”
Route Seven was the one and only road out of the mountains and back to Boulder. He turned on his heel, then left us sputtering our protestations at him, as if he were in charge of the news instead of merely its messenger.
“This must be a new rung of Dante’s Inferno,” Professor Katherine moaned, her doom-and-gloom tones in full force. “We’re never getting out of here.”
Celia, however, smiled, then clapped her hands once sharply. “This is for the best. We all committed to be here for the weekend. This is a sign that we need to fulfill our agreement to one another.”
Thank you, General Custer. Me ‘n’ the troops feel much better now.
Julie and Allison rose, put on their jackets, and brushed past Celia. Allison said to me, “We’re making a run for it, back to the cabin.”
“Molly,” Celia said, her hazel eyes glaring at me, “I hope you agree that, since we now have no choice but to stay, you must carry on with the workshop.” She trotted toward the other two, calling, “Julie? Allison? If you would wait just a moment, I’ll come with you.”
“Karen, you look cold, sweetie,” I said to my daughter, holding out my arms. While Katherine, Nancy, and Lois left, Karen got out of her chair, and I pulled her onto my lap to cuddle her. She hadn’t really looked cold, but I needed to hug my child. I kissed her fine, light brown hair, and she leaned back against me. Even at age ten, she fit so wonderfully on my lap, a bonus of her diminutive size.
Nathan had gotten some cake and asked me what “the gooey stuff” on top was. When I told him it was pineapple, he made a face and shoved it onto his sister’s plate, who objected vehemently, until Rachel told her it was “yummy.” Karen then returned to her chair, took a bite out of each cake slice, and raved about the flavor while eyeing her brother as if he’ d accidentally given her a winning lottery ticket.
“Why don’t you go ahead,” Lauren told me. “My ankle’s not hurting much now, and I’d rather stay here as long as possible. To be honest, it’s a lot nicer than the cabin.”
I whispered, “There’s something I need to show you.” I pulled the note out of my pocket. “Just handle it by a corner. I plan to give this to the police for fingerprints.”
Lauren carefully got the paper from me and read it solemnly. When she’d finished, I put it back in my pocket.
“What was that, Mom?” Karen asked.
“A bad greeting card idea.”
“Can I read it?”
“No, sorry. It’s for adults only.”
Karen, bless her sweet, innocent soul, accepted my answer.
“How did you get that?” Lauren asked, her voice full of worry.
“I was having everyone slip greeting card captions into a bowl, and it was among them. Not exactly Hallmark material.”
I longed to discuss the threat further but needed to wait until the children weren’t near. Instead, I insisted that I would get the car and drive them as far as the upper parking lot. Lauren didn’t have the car keys after all, but then, I lose my keys so often that my hunting for them qualifies as a hobby. They must be at the other cabin.
The rain was now a light but steady drizzle. In the darkness, I could barely make out the rivulets formed from melting hail that ran alongside the path as I made my way to the women’s cabin.
“The roof leaks,” Katherine said to me by way of greeting, just as I stepped through their door. They were all seated in the living room, looking wet and tired.
“Yes, but can you believe our good luck?” Julie said, gesturing. Even, she, with her youthful complexion, looked bad, her mascara having run, which lifted my spirits. “The water dripped right into the salad bowl instead of the furniture. Although on the downside, that ruined all of the card suggestions.”
“My life’s work was in that bowl,” Professor Katherine deadpanned.
I glanced around. If something did happen to one of us, I would need handwriting samples. “Where are the slips I’d already collected?”
“Thrown out,” Celia answered. Her makeup and hairspray had somehow survived the rain. “I spruced up a bit before we left for dinner. Are we ready to begin another writing session, ladies?”
“Maybe you can begin by rewriting whatever got soaked. In the meantime, I just need to find the keys to my car so I can go pick up my injured friend and my children.”
“You stay here. I’ll go get them,” Celia offered, picking up her purse and rifling through it. “That way, you can start the class.”
Lois groaned and smacked the floor with both hands. A cloud of dust arose. “I’ve had it! I’ve been patient enough. I’m not going to sit here in a freezing room with a leaking roof, just to hear about some silly career no one can make a decent living at.”
Celia looked up from her purse, wide-eyed. “Where are my keys?”
“Neither of you have your keys?” Lois asked. “What is this? Weekend with the half-wits?”
“Hey!” I glared at her. “That was uncalled for!”
Lois furrowed her heavy brow and said nothing. No wonder there was so much animosity in this group. I’d only been with them for a few hours, and I wanted to resort to violence. They, according to Celia, had known one another for years.
“Your cabin lights just went on, Molly,” Nancy said, looking out the window. “Your friend and the children must have walked back up.”
“Really?” I joined Nancy at the window. The lights were indeed on. “I think I’ll see how Lauren’s ankle is and be right back.”
Celia stepped in front of the door, blocking me. “Nobody is leaving this cabin until the person who took my keys returns them.”
“You must have misplaced them,” Lois said.
Celia shook her head and turned up her already turned up nose. “I always put them in a special compartment in my purse. They aren’t there. Somebody took them.”
I gritted my teeth but then turned to the others and asked, “Did anybody borrow the keys to get something out of the trunk?”
A chorus of nos greeted me.
“My car is a Suburban, Molly. It doesn’t even have a trunk.” Celia’s voice was so haughty, I fisted my hands.
“Think about what you’re saying, Celia,” Nancy said in gentle, therapeutic tones. “Who would possibly want to take your keys? It’s not as if anyone wants us to stay here.”
Unless one of us intends to commit murder.
Maybe I hadn’t simply misplaced my keys after all. A chill ran up my spine.
“Besides,” Katherine said, “the road is blocked.”
Just then, an enormous flash illuminated the sky. Simultaneously, a tremendous crash resounded. We all gasped. An instant later, the lights went out. We were left in total blackness.
Chapter 3
She Mustard a Smile
I tried not to panic as I blinked, hoping my eyes would adjust. A death threat in my pocket, a room full of suspects, and the lights go out. During my far-too-short-to-end-now lifetime, I had read more than enough mysteries to know exactly how this was going to end: One of us would be dead when the lights came back on.
Get a grip, I silently chastised myself. The note was just a sick joke. But just in case…”Can everybody please say their name? So we can get a feel for where we all are?”
“Celia Wentworth,” Celia began without hesitation. She was still directly behind me, in front of the door. Her carefully plucked eyebrows would be drawn together in a stern mask. “Let’s not lose sight of the fact that someone has taken my keys, and that I demand to have them back!”
“Lois Tucker speaking, and I’m so ticked off at you, Celia
, if you weren’t across the room from me, I’d wring your neck. I never should have listened to you! You lied to me about this weekend! You’ve lied to me more times than I can remember.” She’d risen. I could just make out the silhouette of her sturdy frame in front of the window opposite me. Her arms were akimbo, her hands no doubt fisted.
“Lois, Celia, please,” Nancy said in her placating, therapeutic voice. “Let’s all just take a couple of deep, cleansing breaths and count to ten. There’s no sense in making this even worse.”
“Cleansing breaths?” Celia repeated in disdain. “Sounds like advice from a midwife.”
“You sound angry,” Nancy replied calmly.
“Brilliant deduction,” Celia snapped. “That must be why you make the big bucks.”
There was a dull noise from the center of the room.
“Ow! I just kicked the goddamned salad bowl!”
“Who said that?” I asked.
“That was me, Julie,” came the small, embarrassed-sounding voice. “And please excuse my French.”
“Julie?” Allison said. Her melodic voice was immediately recognizable. She was still seated on or near the couch. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Truth be told,” Julie explained, “I’m scared of the dark.”
My mind raced through the layout of the room and my recollection of the voices. One had been missing. Our professor! “Katherine? Are you still with us?”
“Where would I go?” came her monotone answer. “We’ll be here till the end of time. This greeting card workshop is our rock, which we, like Sisyphus, are condemned to push uphill for all eternity.”
So long as there wasn’t a ventriloquist in the room, everyone was still alive. “Katherine, are you saying you’re not enjoying my workshop?”
I had hoped to lighten the mood with my remark, but nobody laughed. There was only the sound of a lot of shuffling and mumbled apologies as someone moved about.
“Allison, do something about this,” Celia snapped.
“I’m trying to find my suitcase to get my flashlight,” Allison answered, her voice coming from another room. “The lightning probably knocked out a main power line, in which case there’s nothing I can do. But I’ll go out and check the breakers.”
Celia called out, “Allison? Once you find your flashlight, get mine, too. It’s in the side pocket of my suitcase, located by the foot of my bed. Did everyone else bring theirs?”
“It isn’t as though we had a lot of time to pack,” Katherine snarled.
“Let me get this straight,” Celia said. “We’re on a weekend trip in the mountains, and only Allison and I thought to bring a flashlight. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct. Want to make something of it?”
“Now, really, Katherine,” Celia scolded, “I was simply making an observation. There’s no cause to take it personally.”
“That is so like you, Celia,” Katherine retorted, her voice still so angry I could imagine how her students would cringe in their seats. “You refuse to be held accountable for whatever hurtful or vitriolic remark you make, yet you treat everyone else’s verbal miscues as if they’d been etched onto your forehead.”
The was mood deteriorating. I needed to extricate myself. “I’ve got to get to the other cabin and check on the kids. They must be scared stiff.” Actually, they all had flashlights and were probably enjoying this.
I bumped directly into Celia and apologized as I tried in vain to get around her. “Wait just a minute, Molly,” Celia said crossly. “Let’s make sure Allison can find her flashlight before we go traipsing around on one another’s feet. All right?”
“Well, fine. I’m sure worse things could happen than my stepping on your toes.”
“Such as Lois stepping on them,” someone muttered.
“Julie! How dare you!”
“I’m so sorry, Lois,” Julie said in a near whimper. “We’ve just got to get some light in here. I’m starting to have an anxiety attack.”
“Let’s all relax and imagine ourselves floating down a river,” Nancy said soothingly.
If I tried to follow her suggestion, I’d envision myself careening toward Niagara Falls without a paddle.
“I’ve got my flashlight,” Allison called, “but your batteries are dead, Celia.”
“That isn’t possible. I checked the batteries before we left. You must not have pushed the button hard enough.”
“I’m an electrician,” Allison said. “I know how to operate a flashlight.” The small, oblong light from Allison’s flashlight played across the room. Everyone rose and followed Allison’s light as if they were gypsy moths.
“Let me take that,” Celia barked as soon as Allison reached us. “We’ll escort Molly to her cabin.”
“No,” Allison said. “I need it to check the fuses.” The glow of the light darted across the room in a frenzy as Celia and Allison played tug-of-war with the flashlight.
“But we need it to get to Molly’s cabin,” Lois said.
My temper finally snapped. “Nobody is going to my cabin but me! Let me out of here, Celia, before I have to hit you!”
“Just as soon as I get the flashlight, I’ll move,” Celia growled.
“This is just the way things turned out the last time we tried to go someplace together,” someone whined.
The statement distracted Celia enough that she turned and said, “We all agreed we would never—”
She broke off as Allison seized the opportunity, shouldered her, and opened the door. I grabbed it before it could swing shut again and left. The damp, chill air was a welcome change.
Allison had already started up the hill to circle the building. The moonless sky cast little light. I made my way down toward my cabin, indistinct shapes all that were visible within the blackness. I crooked an arm in front of my face to protect it as I was thwacked by one soaking wet pine branch after another . Each time I was rewarded by an extra shower of water coming off the needles. Occasionally the lightning bolts would illuminate my way. I wasn’t worried about getting electrocuted; that would be too quick an end to this miserable weekend.
From our cabin window’s dull glow, it was obvious the kids had turned on their flashlights. I felt around until I found the door, threw it open, and called, “Is everybody all right?”
“Yeah, sure Mom,” Karen answered. “We’re playing flashlight tag. Want to play?”
Several minutes later, Lauren and I convinced the children that it was bedtime, leaving them with two of the three flashlights between them. They would no doubt be wide-awake for a long time yet, but at least I finally had an opportunity to speak to Lauren alone.
“What are we going to do?” Lauren asked as soon as the bedroom door was shut behind us.
“All we can do is—”
Just then, the lights came on. The sudden brightness painful, I blinked while the children giggled that we forgot to turn the lights out in their room. This led to another round of tucking children in and saying good night, but we managed to collect the flashlights—their greatest distraction from sleep.
Lauren was already seated on the couch when I closed the bedroom door behind me. “What on earth has been happening in the other cabin?” Lauren asked quietly. “I thought you said this was going to be a fun workshop.”
“Well, I was wrong. This is about as much fun as a combination tax audit/root canal.”
Just then, Lauren and I gasped as the door flew open. Allison stepped inside, held up an almost full bottle of red wine, and cried, “Success!”
“Is everybody all right over at your cabin?” I asked.
“Depends what you mean by ‘all right.’ I think you may have taken over my standing as Most Despised.”
“Why would you ever have been Most Despised?”
Ignoring the question, she set the bottle on the counter. “I decided to break out some wine to celebrate having lights. Nobody over there wanted to join me, so I came ov
er here.” She started taking drinking glasses down from the cabinet.
“Count me in,” Lauren said.
“Just a little for me.” I paused, trying to decide what tack to take for gleaning information. “I’ve gathered that this wasn’t the first time you women tried to take a trip together.”
Allison nodded and handed an eight-ounce glass of wine to Lauren, who reclaimed her seat on the couch. “We took a trip two months ago, when Katherine won an award of a couple hundred dollars from the university. She claimed she wanted to treat her ‘best friends’ to a luxury weekend at the Broadmoor.”
“Wow. That was nice of her.” The Broadmoor was one of the ritziest hotels in the state of Colorado. I sat down beside Lauren. “Except she changed her mind when she checked out the cost. Celia said she’d handle making comparable arrangements.”
“You didn’t end up here, did you?”
Allison laughed. “Not quite this bad, though the company stunk. If I’d had any idea I’d wind up having to spend another weekend with those bitches, I’d have refused to come here.”
Lauren’s face paled and she shot a nervous glance my way. My heart seemed to skip a beat. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, sorry. With these unlikable people. I forget how motherhood has tamed your language.”
I stared at her, surprised and a little hurt by her snide tone of voice. Plus, her last remark made no sense. She hadn’t even known me before I’d had children. “What’s caused the bad blood among all of you?”
She held up a palm and let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not about to ruin a perfectly good glass of wine by opening that Pandora’s box.” She started to hand me a glass.
“That’s way too much. If I drink more than half a glass, I suffer for the next twenty-four hours.”
She pushed the glass into my hands nonetheless. “Aw, it’s just a domestic. Pour out what you don’t drink.” She sank sideways into the upholstered chair and crossed her legs at the ankles across the armrest. In a nasty impersonation of Julie, Allison clasped her hands and asked, “So, Moll. Isn’t this place just adorable? And aren’t my friends just wonderful?”
Death Comes to a Retreat (Book 4 Molly Masters Mysteries) Page 4