by Mary Daheim
“It looked like him. But I could be wrong.” They’d reached the motel. “Let’s go in the back way. I’d like to see if that BMW is still there.”
Renie scowled. “There are probably a half dozen . . . never mind. I can’t squelch your curiosity.”
There was no sign of the blue BMW behind the motel. Judith decided to ask Niall about the owner. He was on the phone, but held up a finger to signal for the cousins to wait. After a few more words, he hung up.
“That was Mr. Barnes,” he said. “I can’t interrupt the boss. Are you checking out now?” His expression was apologetic.
Judith looked at Renie, who merely shrugged.
“We might as well,” Judith said. “But I’d like to make sure Trixie’s okay. Have you seen her this morning?”
“No,” Niall replied ruefully. “Jenny and I have been busy. Do you want a passkey to her room?”
Judith refrained from saying she didn’t need it. “Yes, thanks.”
Niall opened a drawer and handed over the key. “You can drop it off on your way out, eh? I’m really sorry about not being able to accommodate you and Mrs. Jones tonight.”
“That’s not your fault,” Judith said.
“Right,” Renie put in. “Blame it on our husbands. They can’t stop fishing and admiring glaciers. We both intend to file for divorce when we get home.”
Seeing Niall’s startled face, Judith told him her cousin was kidding. “By the way, who owns the blue BMW that’s been parked out back?”
“Nobody,” Niall replied. “It’s Trixie’s rental. It has Alberta plates because she rented it after she got here. I think she came to Banff by bus.”
“From Nebraska?” Judith said.
Niall shook his head. “She mentioned Winnipeg. I guess that’s not all that far from Nebraska, is it?”
Judith wondered if Canadians were as vague about geography as Americans. “Both places are sort of in the middle,” she said. “Should we settle up with our bill now?”
Niall told them they could. After the paperwork was finished and the cousins prayed that their credit-card charges would be approved, they went up to Trixie’s room. Judith knocked, but got no response.
“She’s probably still asleep,” she said, using the passkey.
“Who do you think drugged her?” Renie asked.
“Honestly? I can’t imagine.” Judith opened the door. And gasped.
There was no sign of Trixie—not in the bed, not in the room, not in the bathroom or the closet. Her clothes and other personal belongings were gone. Except for the rumpled bed and the soup container, it was as if Trixie O’Hara had never existed. Judith said as much.
Renie merely shook her head. “Maybe she didn’t.”
Chapter 24
Back in the Flynns’ suite, the cousins sat down to conjecture. Judith started by recalling that they’d seen Trixie’s wallet with the Nebraska driver’s license. Yes, it could be phony. There were do-it-yourself Internet sites for creating a new identity.
“The problem,” Judith said, “is why Trixie would do that. She doesn’t strike me as the criminal type.”
“Unless the ditz bit’s a put-on,” Renie remarked. “Gold diggers and scam artists often start young.”
Judith ran a hand through her graying hair. “Maybe I’m too old for this bunch of craziness.”
“No, you’re not,” Renie insisted with a shake of her head. “Let’s keep to the latest weirdness. Why would Teddy Stokes be driving Trixie’s rental car?”
Judith considered the question. “The only reason I can think of is that Trixie was in it.”
Renie’s eyes grew round. “In the trunk?”
“No. She may still have been asleep or at least groggy. Trixie may’ve been slouched down in the passenger seat. I barely glimpsed Teddy.”
“But . . .” Renie paused. “The Other Woman?”
“That thought just crossed my mind,” Judith said. “Trixie comes here to marry an old man. Let’s assume it could be Codger. He dies. Teddy somehow meets Trixie. Remember, someone mentioned seeing her at the Stokes encampment. He likes what he sees, he’s tired of Martha Lou, he may be fed up with raising corn. Am I making sense?”
“As much as anything around here does,” Renie replied. “But leaving the farm would mean leaving Codger’s inheritance. Or would it? Adela left the farm ages ago, so I’m assuming Corny and his wife would inherit everything. They’re in their fifties, which means it could be a long wait for them to be out of the picture, especially given Codger’s longevity.”
“But his wives didn’t live long,” Judith noted. “Nobody can predict that sort of thing.”
“True. Look at your own father. He died in his forties.”
Judith stood up. “Let’s get out of here. We can load up the car and have an early lunch while we go through the AAA tour books and try to find some lodgings.”
“Lunch is always a good idea,” Renie said. “We can do it up right at one of the restaurants in the Banff Springs Hotel.”
Judith winced. “I’m getting kind of low on money.”
Renie grinned. “Who isn’t? I’m down to eight bucks. American, of course, since we never changed our money. Let’s go out in style. We can card it.”
Having made their farewells to Niall and Jenny, the cousins went directly to the parking area. The Odells were just getting into their Buick, but Adela paused to say hello. Judith asked if they were checking out.
“No, unfortunately,” Adela replied. “We planned to, but Corny called to say they had another crisis. We’re going to get some expensive Canadian gas for the car first in case we can make our getaway later today.”
For fear of sounding too nosy, Judith hesitated. But she decided it wasn’t fair not to let the Odells know that the motel was booked for the night. “We have to find another place to stay,” she added.
Adela made a face. “Darn! It’s too bad we didn’t keep the twins’ room. But we’d already paid for it before we found out they wanted to go home. Our own reservation is open-ended.”
“Lucky you,” Judith said with a rueful little smile. “What’s the Stokes crisis this time?”
“I didn’t ask,” Adela responded. “We’ll find out when we get there. By the way, thanks for being so understanding about all the horrors. I’m sorry you got mixed up with our loony relatives. Now you know why I stayed away from Big Stove for so long.”
Renie waved a dismissive hand. “No problem. We’ve got some loonies of our own. Most families do.”
“I suppose,” Adela murmured. “Maybe mine aren’t as crazy as they act. Good luck finding another room.”
“Thanks,” Judith said. “Oh—by the way, did the crisis involve Ada?”
Adela looked curious. “You mean about her going missing? That’s old news.”
Judith shook her head. “She spent part of the night in your car. Ada wanted to talk to you.”
Adela gasped and Norm scowled. “What about?” he asked. “That girl doesn’t make any sense.”
Judith wasn’t sure she should blow Ada’s cover, but Renie had no such qualms. “Ada’s probably the smartest one of the bunch. Present company excepted, of course,” she added with a wry expression.
Norm looked flabbergasted. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Renie shrugged. “Ask Ada.”
“We sure as hell will,” he bellowed, grabbing his wife’s arm. “Let’s go!”
The Odells hustled themselves into their car and roared out of the parking lot.
“I’d kind of like to be there when Ada reveals all,” Renie said as she and Judith got into the SUV.
“So would I,” Judith agreed, “but it is a private family moment.”
Renie laughed. “You want to hide behind the VW bus and listen in?”
Judith didn’t answer right away. “No. But I’m wondering what Adela meant when she referred to how her family acts. Especially since Ada told me they like to pretend all sorts of weird things. So how mu
ch of what’s going on with that crew is an act, besides Ada?”
“A corpse being sent on a bier down the Bow River seems fairly theatrical to me,” Renie said as they drove away from the motel. “Blame it all on Marilyn Monroe. She dazzled a lot of people besides Codger.”
Again, Judith was briefly silent. “That white dress and blond wig in Trixie’s closet. Did Trixie intend to dress up as Marilyn to make sure the old coot would marry her?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past anyone involved in this caper,” Renie declared. “We don’t even know if Codger existed. At least here in Banff.”
Judith nodded vaguely. “I wonder how the RCMP is coming along with their investigation.”
“What’s to investigate?” Renie retorted. “They can’t prove Codger didn’t die a natural death—even if he did exist. Heck, they can’t even prove Codger is Codger.”
“True.” Judith braked for a teenager who had swerved in front of them on his bicycle. “If the old guy really was stabbed in the back, he would’ve bled out where I could see it. Maybe we should stop at RCMP headquarters on the way back from lunch.”
“You think they can put us up for the night?”
“Hardly,” Judith replied as they drove through the hotel’s porte cochere. “But I’d like to hear Brewster’s take on the Stokes stunt with the alleged Codger.”
After a parking valet hurried to meet them, they entered the Banff Springs Hotel’s handsome two-story lobby. To Judith’s surprise, Renie headed for the front desk.
“What are you doing?” Judith asked her cousin, who was waiting for the desk clerks to finish dealing with departing guests.
“You’ll see,” Renie whispered. “You’ve taught me a lot about lying over the years.”
“l never lie,” Judith whispered back. “I only tell fibs for a good cause . . .” She had to stop. One of the desk clerks had turned to Renie.
“I’ve just arrived in town,” she said, fanning her face with her hand. “There’s been a family tragedy here and I’ve no place to stay. Is it possible you have a vacant room at least for one night?”
The clerk, who was a fair-haired young man with a ruddy face, exhibited concern. “A death?” He saw Renie nod solemnly. “I’m sorry. Yes, we always keep at least one room available for . . . emergencies.” His eyes flickered over Judith. “Is it just for you or . . . ?” He raised his eyebrows.
“That’s my maid,” Renie said with a vague gesture. “I couldn’t cope without her. She’s so good at scrubbing.”
“Of course.” He handed Renie a form. “Your luggage?” he asked when she was done.
“The valet may’ve already parked my SUV. I’ll have someone fetch my bags later. Now I’d like to lie down for a bit. Grief is so stressful.”
“I understand,” the desk clerk said in a tone that would have done an undertaker proud.
Judith had backed off a bit. “Well? I don’t know whether to congratulate you or kick you. What made you think they’d have a room in reserve?”
“High-end hotels always do,” Renie replied as they headed for the elevators. “Hey, if your mother ever dies, you could use the toolshed as your emergency reserve room.”
“Ha! Mother’s so ornery she’d come back to haunt it. Now we’ll have to collect our luggage from the parking lot after we have lunch. Don’t you dare suggest that your maid can do that for you. And,” Judith went on as the elevator door opened, “how are we going to pay for this?”
“Good question,” Renie muttered. “Why don’t we let our goofy husbands figure that out when they show up tomorrow to collect us?”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had since you lied to the desk clerk,” Judith responded as they got out of the elevator on the third floor.
Renie checked the key’s room number. “This way,” she said, turning left. “I only got one key because you don’t need one. You’re the maid and she picks locks. We can go back to get our luggage after we eat lunch. I’m famished.”
As they expected, the room was tastefully furnished with a view of the mountains. There were two beds, both standard size.
“Good,” Renie said. “We won’t have to fight over the covers. You always need too many blankets. Let’s head for the . . .” She paused to study a brochure on the desk next to the window. “How about the Rundle Lounge? We know their food is really good.”
“Fine with me,” Judith agreed.
By the time they reached the lounge, it was still a few minutes before noon. There was no lineup though half of the tables were already occupied.
“Feels like home,” Renie said after they’d been seated in white high-backed chairs. “This lounge is big. Take a look outside to admire the view in daylight.”
Judith had already seen the balcony that went around the big room. Straight ahead, she saw a window in an archway and the green grounds outside. “Lovely. It’s a shame we couldn’t have stayed here as we planned in the first place. But it turned out just as well, since the extra days would’ve put us in the poor house.”
“I think I’m already there.” Renie perused the menu. “Ah! Smoked salmon sandwich, fries, and a salad. Sounds good to me. I can never eat enough smoked salmon.”
“I’m going old school,” Judith said. “A beef burger with Gouda on a brioche.”
“That sounds more like nouveau French Canadian to me. And it definitely calls for a glass of beer.”
“You don’t like beer,” Judith reminded her cousin. “But I might do that.”
“Go ahead.” Renie checked the menu. “Why not? How can I resist a Grizzly Paw Powder Hound Blonde ale?”
Judith shuddered. “I can. Okay, I’ll stick to Moosehead ale. It should be tamer than your Grizzly.”
After giving their orders to a bubbly redhead named Fay who wore braces on her teeth, Judith noticed that the lounge was beginning to fill up. An elderly man was being seated at the table next to them. She wondered if he was waiting for his wife. Apparently, his server wondered the same thing. But the man shook his head and the unneeded place setting was removed.
Judith smiled wryly. “I never mind seeing an old woman—a lot older than we are—sitting alone as much as I do an old man. That’s unfair, I suppose.”
“Not if she’s like Aunt Gert,” Renie said. “But you’re right—women cope better than men when they’re on their own. Even my worrywart mother does quite well. She’s always having people stop by to chat and have tea.”
“I wonder if we should ask him to join us,” Judith said softly. “I suppose that would be cheeky.”
“For all you know, his wife’s out playing golf.”
“That’s possible,” Judith allowed. “Or he may be visiting here with his children and grandchildren, who are doing something that didn’t appeal to him.”
Their orders arrived. Judith couldn’t resist asking Fay about the elderly man.
“A lovely old fellow,” she replied softly with a dimpled smile. “He’s been staying here for a week. He’s a Yank, but he doesn’t seem to know anyone here. He never leaves the hotel grounds. I guess he just enjoys the scenery.”
“That’s nice,” Judith said. “I mean, it really is. Maybe this was a favorite vacation place for his family.”
Fay nodded. “We get a lot of return visitors, even from abroad. Three, four generations, I’m told. Enjoy your meal.”
Renie took a sip of her beer. “This Grizzly Paw’s not bad. Try your Elkhead.”
“It’s Moosehead,” Judith declared. “I’ve had it before. I think they sell it at Falstaff’s Grocery on the hill.”
“Probably.” Renie darted a glance at the elderly man. “He’s not having beer, but wine instead. Classy kind of guy. I’ll bet he never stranded his wife while he took extra days to go fishing and she was forced to spend all of her money.”
“You want to put a move on him?” Judith asked wryly.
“No thanks,” Renie replied, enthusiastically attacking her smoked salmon sandwich. “Ahmtufundobll.”
<
br /> Judith translated that mouthful to mean that she loved her husband. Then she looked at the old guy sitting at the next table. He was eating slowly, savoring every bite. She hoped that if he’d had a wife, she’d been good to him.
Judith didn’t know the half of it.
Chapter 25
After Renie’s Visa card was approved, they headed for RCMP headquarters. Sergeant Brewster greeted them with a wary smile.
“I hope you don’t have a crime to report,” he said.
Judith decided to approach the Mountie obliquely. “We wondered what’s going on with the Stokes investigation.”
Brewster’s smile disappeared. “We’re not sure that it’s an actual investigation. The only reason they’re still here is because of some technicalities that are being sorted out by Inspector Colbert in Calgary.”
“Technicalities?” Renie echoed. “Such as what?”
Brewster’s tan face seemed to darken. “It’s complicated. They arrived late at night to set up their encampment. We didn’t know about it until last Thursday afternoon. That vacant strip of land belongs to George Barnes, who owns the motel you’ve been staying in. He plans to develop the site—maybe a pool or tennis courts. We contacted him and he stopped by to see what was going on. After speaking to Cornelius Stokes, Mr. Barnes decided there was no reason they couldn’t stay for a few days as long as they didn’t cause trouble.”
“But they did,” Judith declared. “Even if Codger Stokes wasn’t stabbed to death, you and your other officers had to investigate what appeared to be a possible homicide.”
Brewster grimaced. “True. Colbert called on Mr. Barnes, but he told the inspector that homicide or natural causes, the family’s loss was still hard to cope with. They should take time to mourn, eh?”
“Mourn?” Renie practically shrieked. “Frankly, they seemed almost cavalier. Who did they fool with their sad-sack act?”
“Mr. Barnes,” Brewster replied doggedly. “I told you that already.”
Judith felt she’d better speak up before Renie blew a gasket. “I assume money didn’t pass hands.”