by Mary Daheim
Finding a comfortable chair was no problem, though the handsome, two-tiered lobby was fairly busy. The other guests had an international flavor: women in saris, at least three Asian families who were speaking in unfamiliar tongues, a foursome with the two men in clerical garb and their wives in decorous frocks. Anglican, she decided. A little girl with curly blond hair broke away from her parents and had to be chased down before she left the premises. Judith smiled, thinking of Mike at that same adventuresome, heedless age.
Judith watched the family head for the elevators with the protesting little imp and her two older brothers. But after they disappeared, she turned away and saw a grim-looking Sergeant Brewster striding up to the front desk. He spoke briefly to one of the clerks before heading to what appeared to be an office door.
Curiosity got the best of Judith. She stood up from the chair and casually walked to the main entrance. Stepping outside, she again heard a siren wail in the distance. Brewster’s cruiser was parked right at the bottom of the stairs. He’d exit the same way he came in, so Judith would wait for him. She wasn’t leaving Banff without hearing what had brought the RCMP to the hotel.
Judith didn’t have to wait long. No more than five minutes passed before Brewster emerged, his stride longer and quicker as he headed down the stone steps.
“Sergeant!” Judith called after him. “What’s happened?”
Brewster turned to look at her. He didn’t seem pleased to see her. Or maybe he wasn’t pleased by what he had to tell her. The sergeant came back to the stairs and lowered his voice. “You’ll find out soon enough through the hotel grapevine, eh?” He saw her nod. “An elderly man was assaulted with some kind of weapon between the golf course and the hotel. A nine-iron, I’m guessing. He suffered a severe head wound and is on his way to the hospital. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you his name.”
Judith regarded Brewster with sad dark brown eyes. “That’s all right. I can guess. It’s John Smith.”
The sergeant’s eyebrows lifted. Then he shrugged. “Of course you’d know. You’re FASTO, eh?” He hurried down to his cruiser.
Judith was torn. She couldn’t go back to the room and just sit around. She certainly wouldn’t be able to go to sleep for a while either. Pacing a bit, she finally went back through the hotel lobby and out to the parking lot. Maybe she’d brought her purse with her because deep down she knew she had to find out if the Stokes family was still in Banff.
No parking valet was in sight. She crossed over to the lot, but it was getting darker, which made it harder to find the rented SUV. In fact, it appeared that almost half the guests had driven SUVs to the hotel. After about five minutes of searching, Judith found the one with Washington license plates—and Renie’s guidebook on the passenger seat.
She got behind the wheel and headed for the street next to the campground where she and Renie had parked when they’d sneaked onto the site and found Trixie in the VW bus. At this time of night, she was able to pull up next to the curb by the encampment. Sure enough, she could see the VW bus’s outline beyond the shrubbery. Briefly, she considered getting out of the SUV to find out if the Stokes gang was heading home in the morning, but before she could make up her mind, she saw a huddled figure coming out of the shrubs. She leaned across the seat, recognizing Trixie, who was furtively looking in every direction of the street and sidewalk.
Judith rolled down the window and softly called Trixie’s name. The girl seemed to shrink into herself as she froze in place. “Who . . . ?” The single word sounded like a sigh of relief. She stumbled over to the SUV as Judith unlocked the passenger door.
“Are you sick?” Judith asked after Trixie had settled into the seat and lain back on the headrest.
“No,” Trixie answered faintly, running her hands up and down the white pleated dress Judith had seen in the motel closet. “Just . . . scared. Why did I ever come here? It’s been a nightmare.”
Judith had pulled away from the curb. “Do you want to go back to the motel?”
Trixie’s head shot up. “No! I’ll never go back there! I hate that place! It’s even worse than being with the Stokes loonies. That man who . . .” She shook herself. “Never mind. Maybe all men are a pain.”
“Well . . .” Judith was driving aimlessly to give Trixie time to collect herself. “What about Teddy? I thought he wanted to marry you.”
“He’s creepy,” Trixie said in a more normal tone. “The whole family is creepy, at least the ones who live on that farm in Big Stove.”
Judith didn’t say anything for almost a minute. She realized they were going in the direction of the Banff Springs Hotel. Dare she suggest that Trixie spend the night with her and Renie? At least her cousin was asleep. Maybe she wouldn’t know they had company until she woke up in the morning. And if Renie was her usual barely conscious self, she probably still wouldn’t notice they had a guest. Judith finally asked Trixie what had happened to all of her belongings.
“Everything’s at the campsite,” the girl answered glumly. “Except my purse.” She fingered the small faux-leather shoulder bag. “And my money. They didn’t steal that.”
“Good,” Judith said. “How come you’re wearing that nice white dress? Was the family having a farewell party?”
Trixie shook her head. “It was Teddy’s idea. His grandpa Codger was crazy about Marilyn Monroe. It’s like the one she wore in those pictures of her standing over an air vent with her skirt blowing way up. Teddy insisted I wear it today. I guess it was his lame idea of a joke.”
They were approaching the hotel. “You can stay with my cousin and me tonight, Trixie. Unfortunately, we’re leaving in the morning. Our husbands are coming back from their fishing trip to pick us up.”
“I’m leaving, too,” Trixie said. “I’m heading back home to Lincoln, Nebraska. I can’t believe those Stokes creeps are from the same state. They give us all a bad name.”
“I’m glad you’re leaving,” Judith said as they approached the hotel’s porte cochere. “Do you have relatives and friends in . . .” The SUV suddenly slowed down—and stopped. “What on . . . ?” She scanned the dashboard. The fuel gauge was on E. “Damn! I forgot to get gas today! I’ll have to call Triple A or . . . Triple C . . . or whatever it is in Canada to rescue me.”
“That’s okay,” Trixie said. “I’ll wait with you.”
“No,” Judith responded. “You have to tell the front desk that I need help.” She paused to dig in her purse and take out the room key. “Then you can go up to our room and spend the night. Just be quiet so you don’t wake up Mrs. Jones. You can sleep in the empty bed.”
Trixie frowned. “That’s not fair to you and your cousin. I’ll sleep on the floor. That’s what I did at the campsite.”
“This is different.” Judith patted Trixie’s arm after handing over the room key. “Just go. I’m blocking traffic.”
“Okay.” Trixie’s smile was tremulous. “You’re really a nice person, Mrs. Flynn. Your cousin is sort of nice, too. In her own way. I think.”
Trixie hesitated briefly, then got out of the SUV and scooted through the porte cochere. There was already another vehicle behind Judith. With a heavy sigh, she opened her door and stepped onto the pavement.
It was now dark, but Judith could see the pickup’s driver coming toward her. She recognized Mr. Barnes even before he spoke.
“What are you doing here?” he asked gruffly.
“I ran out of gas,” Judith replied.
“Oh?” He sounded suspicious. “You’d better go inside. It’s not smart to hang out here this time of night.”
“By the Banff Springs Hotel?” Judith attempted a smile. “It strikes me as a safe place.”
“Go inside,” he all but barked. “Now!”
Fighting for composure, Judith shrugged. “Fine. Maybe I can catch up with Trixie.” She reached into the car to grab her purse.
Barnes had moved up behind her. “What about Trixie? Where the hell is she?”
Judith twisted around to l
ook up at him. “In the hotel. Why do you want to know?”
“You don’t get to ask questions, Mrs. Smart Mouth Amateur Sleuth!” He grabbed Judith’s arm. “I’m not letting go until you tell me where Trixie is!”
“She’s not in the trunk,” Judith retorted, trying not to wince from Barnes’s rough grasp. “If you want to talk to her, wait until tomorrow.”
He shook his head in an almost violent manner. “I want her back now,” he growled, trying to keep his voice low. “You’re going to take me to her unless you want your freaking arm busted!”
Judith’s eyes peered at her surroundings. Not only was it dark, but no one else seemed to be in the parking area. Surely someone should be coming or going at only a little before ten o’clock. Her free hand touched her breast. “Okay,” she finally said. “Let go of my arm and I’ll take you to see Trixie. Why do you want to talk to her?”
“I told you, none of your damned business!” He yanked at Judith’s arm, dragging her toward the rear of the hotel rather than through the porte cochere.
“Hold on!” Judith shouted. “I can’t go fast. I’ve got an artificial hip. I could dislocate!”
“Pipe down!” Barnes hissed, but he hesitated, his voice still a low growl. “You could what?”
“You heard me,” Judith said in a normal tone. “I know something about you.”
Barnes leaned closer. “What the hell do you mean?”
Judith lifted her chin. “You’re not Canadian.”
“So what?” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “Lots of Americans move to Canada. Remember Nam and all the young guys who came up here to keep from getting their butts shot off in freaking Asia? I was one of ’em.”
“I did wonder,” Judith said, now speaking in a more normal tone.
Barnes was still leaning in on Judith and had narrowed his eyes. “You ran me through the system?”
Judith attempted a shrug but couldn’t manage it with her adversary’s hand clamped on her arm. “I didn’t need to. You mentioned that I’m an amateur sleuth. How did you know that?”
“The cops. Who else?” He nudged Judith’s thigh with his knees. “Move. We’re going inside. Once we get there, you do what I say. Got it?”
Before Judith could speak, the sound of a siren could be heard. Barnes didn’t seem to notice. “Come on, move, woman!”
“I can’t,” Judith protested. “My hip!” Her free hand clutched at the good side, but Barnes wouldn’t know the difference.
“Okay, okay,” Barnes muttered, reaching around Judith to open the hotel’s rear door. “You go first. Move!” He gave her a rough nudge. Judith awkwardly crossed the threshold. The sirens were much closer.
“What the hell?” Barnes bellowed as Judith felt several drops of water splash onto her slacks.
As his hand fell away, Judith slammed the door behind her. The first person she saw was a startled busboy carrying what looked like a load of garbage.
“Ma’am!” he exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
“I am now,” she replied, hearing the sirens behind the hotel. “But don’t open the door. There’s a crazy person out there.”
The fair-haired young man was big-eyed. “Are the Mounties here?” He looked excited and worried at the same time. “Has anyone been hurt?”
“No, but I understand an elderly guest was injured earlier . . .” She stopped, seeing Renie heading their way. She was wearing a jacket over her short summer nightgown and looked grim. “Excuse me,” Judith said. “I must talk to my cousin.”
Renie waved away the busboy and addressed Judith. “Well? Did I save your life or not?”
“You did,” Judith replied. “I couldn’t believe it. I thought you’d still be asleep.”
“How could I sleep through Trixie falling over my suitcase and wailing like a banshee? Somehow she skinned her knee. Don’t worry, she’s fine.”
Judith nodded halfheartedly. “Having escaped from what seemed like a near-death experience, I need to collapse. How did you know I was outside with Barnes?”
Renie shrugged. “Where else would you be? Trixie told me you ran out of gas. When you didn’t show up right away, I looked outside—and there you were, being menaced by Big Bad Barnes. I emptied the fruit bowl on the credenza, filled it up with water, and dumped it out the window. Do you think the cops have busted him?”
“If not now, they will,” Judith said as they crossed the lobby with its handsome two-story stone arches. “It turns out someone tried to kill John Smith. I figure it was Barnes, though I’m not quite sure why.”
Renie, who was ignoring stares from some of the other guests, made a face. “Now that I’ve had a nap, I’m kind of hungry. Why don’t we find a place where we can talk about it and I can get a snack?”
“Not in your nightgown, you ditz! Show a little class!” Judith picked up her step and headed for the elevators. “Call room service.”
Judith still felt shaky when they entered their room. Post-traumatic stress disorder, she thought to herself. No wonder. Flopping down on the bed, she noticed that Renie had left the light on between the two double beds. There was no sign of Trixie in either of them and the bathroom door was open—and the room vacant.
Renie was at the credenza, putting the fruit back into the bowl she’d used to dump water on Barnes. “Oh no!” she cried, scanning the room. “Trixie’s gone! She left a note.”
Judith was beyond shock. “Well? Read it to me.”
Renie sat down next to Judith. “‘Teddy called me to say they heard about the poor old man who got hit on the head and is in a bad way. He seems to be all alone with no one to take care of him, so I’m going to help him recover. Thanks for being so nice to me. Have a good trip home. XXXOOO Trixie.’”
Judith sat with her chin on her fist. “I’m usually good with my insights about people. But I flunked on Trixie. She’s not really the helpless type. In fact, she’s an opportunist. My evil side almost makes me wish she ends up with all of the money. If John Smith is Codger, of course. The whole bunch should be put on a bier and sent out to sea.”
“We’re leaving in the morning. Does what happens to any of them matter?” Renie asked in a droll voice.
Judith shook her head. “Not anymore. You’re right, we’re done here. Order your snack and something for me. Getting menaced by Mr. Barnes has given me an appetite.”
“Gosh,” Renie said innocently, “I thought you’d be used to being endangered by now.”
Judith just stared at her cousin.
Chapter 28
The cell phone rang at 7:34. Judith was getting dressed while Renie rolled around in the other double bed and groaned a lot. After fumbling with the cell, she heard Joe’s overly chipper voice at the other end.
“How’s my darling girl this morning?” he asked.
“Fine,” Judith all but snapped. “I left you a message last night reminding you we’re at the Banff Springs Hotel. Did you get it? Are you outside waiting for us?”
“Not quite,” Joe replied, not so chipper. “Bill’s doing his exercises and I’m waiting to sign off for the fish we’re sending on home to the cannery. It’s sort of complicated. International rules and all that.”
Judith locked gazes with Renie, who had stopped groaning and was sitting up in the bed. “So when will you get here?”
“Ten, ten thirty? It’s hard to predict,” Joe replied. “You and Renie can have a big, leisurely breakfast at your first-class hotel. You aren’t bored with the wonders of Banff by now, are you?”
“We’re fine.” Judith’s tone was still terse. “We’ll see you when we see you. I have to get dressed now. Good-bye.”
Renie grimaced. “What now?”
Judith explained. “We’ll be lucky if they get here by noon.”
By a little after eight, they were both dressed and ready to head out for breakfast when Sergeant Brewster called Judith. He said he was in the lobby and could he see them for a few minutes? She told him to come up to the room.
&nb
sp; “He’s coming here?” Renie looked flabbergasted, but suddenly grinned. “I’m calling room service.” She picked up the house phone and placed the orders. “You’ll note I kept it simple—eggs, sausage, and toast. Coffee, of course, and an extra cup for Brewster.”
“Fine,” Judith said. “He probably ate before coming to work.”
The tired-looking sergeant arrived barely two minutes later. Judith figured he’d probably worked long hours investigating the assault on the alleged John Smith—and on Judith. She invited him to sit down and said that coffee was on the way. Brewster looked grateful and thanked her.
“Thank Mrs. Jones,” Judith responded, having caught Renie’s baleful look.
The Mountie gave her a weary smile and expressed his appreciation before turning back to Judith. “I understand you had an encounter with George Barnes last night. We received an alert from you shortly before ten o’clock, but the officer on patrol talked to a busboy who’d seen you come in and assured him that you were safely inside the hotel.”
“I was,” Judith confirmed. “How did you find out that my alert involved Mr. Barnes?”
“We didn’t know that at the time,” Brewster replied, “but we were looking for him. We got the fingerprint results back from the golf club that was used to put Mr. Smith in hospital. They matched those of George Barnes.”
“Ah!” Judith exclaimed. “How lucky that you had his fingerprints on file.”
Brewster nodded. “He’d had to be fingerprinted to get his liquor license for the motels. Tell me, were you suspicious of him all along?”
Judith considered the question, but Renie spoke up first. “You bet we were. He was a real jerk. I’d already had a row with him in the motel parking lot. A motel owner who disses a guest has to be an idiot or a crook.” She stood up as a knock sounded at the door. “Breakfast,” she murmured, and raced off to let in whoever was delivering the food.
Judith asked Brewster if the RCMP had ever investigated the business operations of Barnes’s motels. The Force hadn’t, he replied, drawing back his feet as the breakfast trolley was rolled into the room. “There were never any serious complaints from guests. He and his sister had moved here from the States about thirty-five years ago. They bought out the motel where they now live, and then acquired a second one by the ski lifts. He built the other two about six years ago. In fact, I doubt that his younger employees know he’s not Canadian.”