by Mary Daheim
“Don’t worry about us,” Judith said. “We can amuse ourselves. I heard there was an outdoor concert close by tonight.” It wasn’t true, of course, unless she considered the possibility of Ada howling at the moon.
“That sounds really nice,” Joe asserted with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Then he lowered his voice, sounding more like himself: “You sure everything’s okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Judith retorted. “We’ve met some interesting people and there are some very intriguing shops. Be sure to tell Bill that Renie has a whole new wardrobe.”
“I’ll pass on mentioning that,” Joe said. “Hey, got to run. Snapper MacDougall—our guide—wants to show us some new lures he’s put together. Love you.”
“Enjoy.” Judith disconnected and looked at a bemused Renie, who’d been gazing out the window.
“Oh, so what?” her cousin said. “They’re having a good time. They’d have been bored hanging out here in town. Maybe we’d have been bored, too, if a dead body hadn’t turned up. Where do you suppose that body is by now?”
Judith shook her head. “No clue. Literally. I’m still trying to figure out who the body is.”
Renie hopped out of the chair in which she’d been curled up while Judith talked to Joe. “Why don’t you take a private poll of the survivors and see who each one of them thinks it is?”
“That’s up to the Force,” Judith said. “That’s what the RCMP is called up here.”
Renie looked askance. “You think I’ve never read a mystery set north of the border? Seriously, somebody has to know the victim’s ID.”
Judith was staring into the bathroom. “The killer probably does,” she said in a vague voice. “Why hasn’t housekeeping showed up with the towels?”
Renie scowled. “You can’t use the ones they didn’t collect?”
“That’s not the point,” Judith snapped. “I’m wondering about Trixie. She worries me.”
“Coz!” Renie looked unusually severe. “Stop. You’re suffering from your chronic Wounded Bird Empathy. You can’t get worked up over everyone you meet who seems to have a problem. Everybody has problems. You hardly know the girl. Trixie probably broke up with her boyfriend.”
“That’s not a minor crisis for a young girl,” Judith argued. “But most girls don’t actually pass out over a breakup. Besides, I’m not sure that’s the case with Trixie.”
“Then what is?”
Judith didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know. But I think we should figure out what is. Let’s find Trixie.”
Renie sighed. “I didn’t know she was lost.”
Judith was already at the door. “If you don’t want to come with me, watch TV or design something amazing.”
“I can get Canadian TV at home,” Renie retorted. “It’s part of whatever package Bill chose years ago.”
“Big deal,” Judith said. “We have the same package . . .” She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “That means Mother gets it, too. I hope she doesn’t watch the Canadian news. She might find out about the murder.”
“So? She won’t care,” Renie asserted. “Unless she thinks you’re the victim. Then she’d probably be mad at you for getting killed.”
“And I’d never hear the end of it,” Judith murmured as they headed to the elevator. “Even beyond the grave.”
“Speaking of which,” Renie said when they were descending to the main floor, “where do you think the alleged Codger ended up? Why didn’t you ask Adela? She might tell you. I’ll bet she and Norman are here in the motel.”
“I hate to bother them,” Judith said as the elevator doors opened. “They must be worried sick about the twins. I’d like to know if they got their car back.” She glanced at the clock above the vacant motel desk. “They may be at dinner. Where’s whoever should be on duty?”
“Let’s find out.” Renie slammed her hand down on the bell that sat on the counter.
The door behind the work area opened and a young man who looked as if he was at least part Indian appeared. “Yes?” he said deferentially.
Judith noted that his name tag identified him as Layak Patel. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Odell in their room?”
The young man frowned. “I’m not sure. They were here a while ago, but they may’ve gone out, eh? I was called away from the desk for a bit.”
Judith nodded. “Is Trixie working now?”
“Ah . . .” His dark skin grew darker. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s too bad,” Judith said. “I wanted to talk to her. Will she be here tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.” Layak didn’t meet Judith’s gaze. “I mean, I usually work the relief shifts, so I don’t always know the other employees’ schedules. Sorry.”
“Never mind,” Judith said, smiling. “But we do need clean towels. Flynn and Jones in the adjoining suite.”
“I’ll bring them up myself,” Layak promised. “As soon as everybody checks in. We’ve got one more party due.”
Judith thanked him and practically shoved Renie toward the entrance. “We need to check in with Brewster,” she said after they were outside. “He’ll know about the Odells’ car.”
“What about it?” Renie sounded irked. “You think it was carrying contraband maple sugar?”
Judith didn’t answer until they were in the SUV. “Despite what we were told, I’d like to know why Win and Winnie abandoned a perfectly good car. Why would they run away from the scene? And where did they go?”
“After meeting the Stokes folks, the twins may’ve run away to home.”
“Maybe,” Judith allowed, squinting into the early-evening sun. “It’s after six. Let’s hope Brewster hasn’t gone off duty.”
There were no vacant parking places within a block of the station. Lynx Street was busy with tourists as well as locals getting off work. Judith could pick out the residents. They kept their eyes straight ahead instead of gawking at the majestic mountains.
“Darn,” she said under her breath. “I don’t want to walk any more than I have to. We’ll park in the RCMP lot.”
Renie smirked. “Why not? You’ve virtually been deputized.”
Three minutes later and after one harrowing U-turn at Wolf Street that made Renie grit her teeth, they were in back of the station waiting for an answer to Judith’s ring. A young, fair-haired, and very startled Mountie finally opened the door. “Yes?” he said in an uncertain voice.
Judith asked to see Sergeant Brewster. When the young man hesitated, she smiled. “Tell him Mrs. Flynn is here to see him.”
The young man nodded, but still looked ill at ease. “Please wait here,” he said.
Judith stepped inside, but Renie leaned against the outer wall. “Good-bye,” she said with a little wave.
“What do you mean?” Judith demanded, turning around.
“Officer Adolescent didn’t say I could come in.” She started to pout.
“Oh, for . . . Will you stop acting like you’re six?”
Renie abandoned the pout and her brown eyes were angry. “Will you stop acting as if I don’t exist? What’s wrong with you the last few days? I don’t mind playing second fiddle, but I thought we were at least in the same orchestra.”
Judith bit her lip. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. Really. I’m used to being the only one who visits with my guests at the B&B. Yes, Joe helps with breakfast, but he rarely leaves the kitchen. He leaves the socializing to me. I can’t help it, even when I’m not in B&B hostess mode.”
“You’re not now,” Renie reminded her. “I don’t want to step on your act, but I like being acknowledged, okay?”
Judith sighed. “Okay, I get it—and I’m really sorry.” She reached out from the doorway to put her hand on her cousin’s arm.
Renie smiled. “Go do your thing. I’m not that keen on hanging out in police stations. You’re the one who married a cop.” She patted her cousin’s hand and smiled. “It’s fine. Really.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Go. I ac
tually enjoy being outside, where I can see some of the most spectacular scenery in North America. Or the world, for that matter.”
Judith entered the station and made her way into the front office, where she saw Brewster talking on the phone. The younger policeman was no longer in sight.
Judith waited patiently for what seemed like a long time but, according to the big clock, was less than three minutes. The Mountie’s black eyes briefly acknowledged her. He was uttering only monosyllabic responses and the nerve in his forehead indicated he was irritated. After almost two minutes had passed, he rang off.
“Yes, Mrs. Flynn?” he said in a tightly controlled tone.
Judith assumed an abject expression, which wasn’t hard to do under the circumstances. “I hate to bother you, but I have to ask what happened with the Odells’ vehicle. Was it in an accident?”
“No.” Brewster’s broad shoulders sagged. “See here, Mrs. Flynn, I realize you’re a bit of a sleuth and I respect that. The Odell vehicle is in our impound lot, which is at the edge of town. We haven’t been able to get in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Odell. They aren’t taking calls at the motel, although the desk clerk told us he thought they were in their room.”
“I believe they are,” Judith said. “I assume you’re waiting to tell them about the car so they can collect it.”
Brewster frowned. “They can if they have a set of keys. There weren’t any in the vehicle. That’s why we had to tow it into Banff.”
“Oh.” Judith paused. “Why would their kids abandon the car but take the keys?” The question came out in a murmur, as if she was asking herself as well as Brewster.
“They’re teenagers.” His wide mouth hinted at a smile. “Do you have children, Mrs. Flynn?”
Judith smiled. “Yes, a son. Mike’s a forest ranger in Maine. He and his family hope to visit us this fall.”
“A worthy occupation, eh?” Brewster acknowledged with a nod. “Is there anything I can do for you before I finally get to sign out?”
She offered him a sympathetic smile. “Not unless you have a positive ID on the victim.”
“We have to wait for your FBI to respond to our request for identification of the alleged deceased. There may be fingerprints on file. We were able to take some from the tent where he died. But I don’t think they work on weekends.” His expression indicated he would hold her responsible if the agency proved dilatory.
“Of course.” Judith was getting irked. First Renie, now Brewster. It was a beautiful summer day in a gorgeous part of the world. Why sour the atmosphere with personal grievances? Then it struck her that a killer had already done just that. “Thank you, Sergeant,” she said with a compassionate smile. “Go home.”
Chapter 15
Renie was nowhere in sight. Not on the stairs, not by the wall, not in the parking lot. Given how much her cousin hated walking, especially on pavement, Judith was flummoxed. She squinted into the western sun, wondering if someone had given her a ride back to the motel. But who? Judith’s trust in most of the people they’d met during their stay in Banff was on shaky ground.
She was still pondering when she heard a horn honk. Nobody was in the parked cruisers. Then her gaze traveled to their SUV rental. Renie was behind the wheel. Judith stalked over to the passenger side and opened the door.
“Well?” Renie said with a puckish expression. “Did you think I’d stay outside in the sun and wilt? I do know how to drive.” To prove it, she started the engine. “Where are we going now?”
“You scared me,” Judith confessed. “I thought something might’ve happened to you.”
To Judith’s relief, Renie laughed. “When you’re sleuthing, nothing ever happens to me unless it happens to you, too. Where are we going?”
“We?” Judith offered her cousin a tentative smile. “You’re sure you’re still not irked with me?”
Renie shook her head. “Of course not. You know I never stay mad for long. Especially at you. Besides, I have a short attention span. Now tell me where we’re going.”
“I’m not sure. On my way out, I noticed a map that shows the impound lot. Maybe we should head there.”
“I should ask why,” Renie said, waiting for traffic on Lynx Street, “but where is it?”
Judith fretted her lower lip. “Umm . . . take a right. It’s near the train tracks. I saw them on the map.”
Renie finally found an opening and swung out into traffic. “Now I’ll ask why.”
“That’s where we’ll find the Odells’ allegedly abandoned Buick,” Judith replied. “I gather the RCMP is shorthanded over the weekend with so many tourists in town. They haven’t had time to check it out.”
“But we do,” Renie said. “And how helpful of us. Your uncanny lockpicking skills will again come in handy.”
“I’m rusty,” Judith admitted. “It’s been a while.”
“I trust you. How do we get to the impound lot?”
“It’s west of town by the train tracks. Take a left up ahead on Railway Avenue. It can’t be far from the station.”
“Got it.” Renie made a sharp turn that forced a camper with Oregon plates to come to a jarring stop. Moments later they saw a ten-foot-high chain-link fence enclosing at least three or four vehicles. “That’s it. Want me to floor it and drive through the fence?”
“No!” Judith cried, terrified that her cousin might actually do just that. “But the gate has a padlock. Those are trickier than the ones on doors and windows. I might have a little problem.”
“You can do it, coz,” Renie assured her. “Let’s go.”
They went. Judith studied the padlock before getting out her nail scissors. “Move to my left,” she told Renie. “The sun’s in my eyes.”
“Got it.” Renie moved.
“Damn,” Judith said under her breath. “You’re too short. Hold up your arms.”
“Sheesh.” Renie shook her head but complied.
Judith struggled at first, then finally managed to tweak the mechanism just enough to release the lock. Renie lowered her arms to open the gate.
“After you, Super Sleuth,” she said with a little bow. “Why didn’t we become burglars instead of working for a living?”
“That lock was work,” Judith declared, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching them. “Let’s hope the Odells’ Buick is easier to get into.”
It was, taking Judith barely a minute to open the driver’s side. “Clean,” she announced. “I see the front tire looks a bit low. Maybe the twins hit something and it upset them. Let’s try the trunk.”
They moved to the vehicle’s rear. When they lifted the trunk’s lid, Judith let out a little shriek and Renie gasped. The first thing that met their startled eyes was a tattered blue blanket.
“I can’t look!” Renie cried, turning away.
“Then don’t,” Judith said sharply. Gritting her teeth and holding her breath, she tugged gently at the fabric’s edge. All she could see at first were a pair of running shoes and then a canteen. Judith finally yanked the rest of the blanket away and groaned.
“What?” Renie asked, peeking between her fingers.
Judith sighed. “You can look now, Chicken Liver. Codger’s gone.”
Renie lowered her hands. “Gone? He’s been gone almost since we got here. What are you talking about?”
“See for yourself. It’s not gruesome.” Judith gestured at the open trunk. “Come on, coz.”
Reluctantly, Renie came closer and took a deep breath. Then she looked in the trunk. “Okay. So how did Codger get into the Odells’ trunk in the first place? And does the RCMP know he was there?”
“No,” Judith replied. “They don’t have the keys. The twins made off with them. I wonder if Win and Winnie have shown up in Banff or if they really fled. But why?”
Renie waved away a mosquito. “Maybe they opened the trunk and got scared.”
“Of what? A torn blanket? I don’t remember seeing any blood on it.” Judith frowned. “Or . . .” She bit
her lip. “Maybe the family really did send Codger down the Bow River. But that could backfire on the Stokes family if it’s found this side of the border.”
“Could the twins have been delegated to do the dirty deed by one of the other family members?”
Judith sighed. “Anything’s possible with this crazy crew. Why didn’t the alleged Codger watch sci-fi movies and insist on being shot off into outer space?”
“I like that,” Renie said. “That might even get Ada’s attention. Especially if they did it at halftime of a Cornhusker game.”
“Ada,” Judith said softly as she closed the trunk. “I still want to talk to her. How do we cull her from the herd?”
Renie’s brown eyes lit up. “Tell her you’ve got footage of the Nebraska team’s practice?”
“I wish I did.” They started back to the SUV, but paused to padlock the gate. “I’d also like to find out why Doris and Jens Draper told me the Stokeses were originally headed for California.”
Renie handed over the SUV’s keys to Judith. “If they’re like the majority of people,” she said after they were in the vehicle, “they have no sense of geography. I read recently that ninety percent of all Americans can’t find Canada on a map. They probably think it’s in California. They both begin with a C-A. Where are we going?”
“Back to the motel,” Judith replied, driving away from the train tracks. “I need to unwind. And I want to find out what happened to Trixie. She puzzles me.”
“Hmm,” Renie murmured. “That’s all well and good, but I missed hearing the word ‘dinner’ in there.”
“It’s not yet seven,” Judith replied. “Let’s make a reservation somewhere for seven thirty. The restaurants shouldn’t be so busy on a Sunday night. You can do that while I inquire after the troubling Trixie.”
“Trixie isn’t troubling me,” Renie declared.
Judith turned off in the direction of the motel. “She’s an emotional disaster. Besides, I want to find out why she visited the Stokes menagerie. There must be a reason.”