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“They’re desperate,” Renie responded.

Judith gave a slight shake of her head. “Aren’t we all?”

ELEVEN

MAX AND WARD had decided to go out through the front

entrance because it faced west and the snow might not be

as deep. Judith and Renie joined the others in the lobby as

Gene and Russell attempted to open the big double doors.

“One at a time!” Killegrew shouted. “We don’t want an

avalanche in here!”

The knotty pine door on the left slowly swung inward. As

feared, the snow came with it, spilling onto the flagstones

and showering the onlookers with frozen particles.

“Eeek!” cried Nadia. “We’ll be buried alive!”

But the pile of snow only reached about four feet into the

lodge. Near the top of the open door, they could see daylight.

Max, with hands on hips, surveyed the task that lay ahead.

“We’re snowed in, all right,” he said, stating the obvious.

“This is going to take some time.”

“Better bundle up,” said Killegrew, going over to the coffee

table. “Say, Nadia, could you fix me a Scotch and soda?”

Nadia busied herself with bottles and glasses. Judith noticed that the liquor supply was getting low. She wondered

if there was more in the basement. Given all that

145

146 / Mary Daheim

had happened so far, it wouldn’t do to run out of booze.

Max and Ward headed for the elevator, presumably to put

on their all-weather gear. Gene and Ava wandered back into

the library. Margo and Russell followed Judith and Renie

into the kitchen.

“Do we have enough food?” Margo inquired.

“We’re fine,” Judith assured her. “In fact, I was just wondering about the liquor. Maybe we could all go downstairs

and see if there’s a backup supply.”

“They should have a wine cellar,” Margo said. “Come on,

Russell. It’ll give us something to do.”

Russell trailed Margo like a well-behaved pup. Judith and

Renie joined them, carefully going down the narrow stairway.

The basement wasn’t quite what Judith had expected. It was

partitioned into rooms. They passed the storage area for

outdoor equipment, the game room with billiard and pingpong tables, a large, well-stocked woodpile, a much larger

laundry room than the small alcove off the kitchen, a heating

and furnace room, another storage room where extra furniture was kept, and finally what passed for a wine cellar.

The bottles were stored in their original cases. To Judith’s

relief, there were also boxes filled with every imaginable liquor as well as two kegs containing beer, light and dark.

Each member of the foursome grabbed as many bottles as

possible and returned upstairs.

The lobby was empty and quite cold. The snow was

melting on the flagstones, creating puddles of water. Judith

and Renie went in search of a mop and some rags.

“When do we make our big threat?” Renie asked after they

were in the supply room.

“I’d like to have more evidence first,” Judith replied. “The

pillowcase might prove that Andrea was murdered, but except

for possible DNA results, it doesn’t tell us who smothered

her.”

They didn’t find any rags in the cupboards, so they had

to make do with towels. Renie piled such a tall stack in her

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 147

arms that only her eyes and hair showed. “Hold it. You said

we had a life insurance policy. Show them, tell them.” Renie

bit off the words. “Now, before we expire, right along with

your stupid policy. Come on, coz—we can’t wait to get more

evidence.”

“I didn’t say get,” Judith responded, carrying a mop and

a bucket. “I said have more evidence. Which isn’t exactly

right, either. What I meant was…um…”

“You haven’t made up the evidence.” Renie sighed, balancing the towels and following Judith out of the supply room.

“In other words, you’re going to tell one of your monster

lies.”

“I never lie,” Judith said, indignant. “I might fib, but only

when it’s absolutely necessary.”

“So what’s the fib?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m stalling. You got any bright

ideas?”

They were back in the lobby before Renie could come up

with an answer. Ava and Nadia were exiting the women’s

rest room; Russell and Gene were standing in the doorway

to the library; Frank Killegrew and Margo were nowhere in

sight; Ward and Max hadn’t yet returned from upstairs.

The cousins began wiping up the wet floor. Nadia offered

to help. The heat from the lobby was causing the snow to

melt fairly fast. It was almost impossible to get the flagstones

dry.

“I suppose the snow that was up against the building was

fairly soft anyway,” Judith murmured, more to herself than

to Renie or Nadia. “I’m not sure that opening the front door

was a good idea.”

“It’s the only way to get help,” Nadia said, down on her

hands and knees.

“How’s Frank?” Renie asked, wringing out a towel in the

bucket.

“He’s fine, he’s really fine,” Nadia replied. “We went to

check on one of the smaller conference rooms. Margo’s

148 / Mary Daheim

with him now. We may move our meeting there. It’s a bit

chilly in the lobby with the door open.”

“What about the library?” Judith inquired. “Isn’t that where

you were earlier?”

Nadia made a face. “Yes. But those big leather chairs are

so…comfortable. Russell in particular tended to nod off.”

Renie, who had also been kneeling, stood up. “This is a

losing battle. Between the warmer temperature outside and

the heat from the lodge, we’re getting a regular little stream

across the floor. Look,” she said, pointing to the top of the

open entrance way, “we could see barely six inches of daylight when the door was first open. Now it’s nearly a foot.”

Judith followed Renie’s finger. Her cousin was right. She

could make out a fallen tree branch across the drifted snow,

or perhaps it was a piece of the roof that had blown off

during the blizzard. From what Judith could tell, the afternoon was overcast, but there was neither snow nor rain

falling on the mountainside. Perhaps their prospects were

looking up.

“Where the hell is Ward?” Max demanded as he exited

from the elevator.

Everyone turned to stare at the marketing vice president

who was bundled up in a red and black hooded lumber

jacket.

“He went upstairs with you,” Ava said. “Isn’t he in his

room?”

“If he is, he’s in the can,” Max retorted, then pushed back

a heavy glove to look at his watch. “It’s almost two-thirty.

We went up to change just before two. What’s taking him

so long?”

Killegrew and Margo were coming from the conference

room area. “Now, now,” said Killegrew, “what’s going on?

I thought you and Ward were going to start digging.” He

gave Max an accusing look.

The vice president of marketing’s slightly simian features

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 149

always looked pugnacious, but now they turned obstinate.

“I’m not starting alone. I’ll wait for Ward if it takes all afternoon. What’s he doing in his room? Taking a nap?” Suddenly Max’s big, burly body sagged. “What is he doing?” he

mumbled.