request.
“We could use some appetizers to go with these drinks,”
he said, looking put upon.
Margo sneered. “You’re the only one who’s drinking,
Frank. I don’t think the rest of us have much of an appetite.”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 157
“There’s some cheese and crackers,” Judith said. “If you
like, I can make up a tray.”
Killegrew nodded. “As I said, we have to keep up our
strength.”
The cousins trekked off to the kitchen. Russell Craven was
at their heels, hemming and hawing.
“I don’t mean to trouble you, but…ah…er…I would enjoy
a cup of tea. Um…often, in the afternoon around this time,
my secretary, Ms. Honeythunder, brings me a nice hot cup.”
“It’s no bother,” Judith assured him. “I’ll put the kettle on
right away.”
“Soothing,” Russell said with a little sigh. “Refreshing.
Bracing. Hot tea.” He started to sit down on one of the
stools, then jumped back as if he’d been stung by a bee.
“Is that…?” Jerkily, he pointed to the counter.
“More or less,” Renie said. “Go ahead, sit down. What
Leon had isn’t contagious.”
“But it is.” Russell’s fair, rather weak features were filled
with despair. “One by one, we’re…doomed.”
The remark was unsettling. Judith opened her mouth to
contradict Russell, considered what had happened thus far,
and kept quiet. Renie squirmed a bit before taking Russell
by the hand and leading him to a stool on the opposite side
of the counter.
“If you really believe that,” Renie said, at her most solemn,
“then you must try to help us. Do you know why your people
are being killed?”
Russell chewed on his lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about
that. Of course, that’s all I ever do—I think.”
“And you get ideas,” Renie said encouragingly. “Often,
they’re brilliant ideas. How about now?”
“Well…um…” Russell ran a hand through his unruly hair.
“It had occurred to me that someone was trying to get Frank’s
possible successors out of the way to make room for himself—or herself. Naturally, the ultimate decision is always
up to the board of directors.” Russell uttered
158 / Mary Daheim
a nervous little cough, perhaps embarrassed by his uncharacteristic loquaciousness. “But you see, I don’t think Andrea
or Leon was being considered—though you never know.
And that young fellow—what was his name?—he was from
the lower ranks. So that doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
“No,” Renie agreed. “It doesn’t. I understand that Ward
and possibly Ava and maybe you are the prime candidates.”
“Not me!” Russell held up both hands as if to ward off the
corner office. “I’d never take such a pressure-packed position!
I’m perfectly happy where I am! I’d make a terrible CEO!”
Judith, who had gotten out a big oval tray and placed it
on the counter next to Russell, began opening boxes of
crackers. “Can you think of another motive?” she asked in a
quiet, composed voice.
Russell sighed. “I try to avoid getting involved in office
politics. I always have. I’ve spent my whole career in research
and development, starting with Bell Labs right after I
graduated from college in the East. Since I came to OTIOSE
eight years ago, I’ve concentrated solely on new products
and applications. I pay no attention to what goes on in other
departments. That’s why Max got so mad at me last night.
Maybe he has a point. But I abhor distractions.” Russell
uttered a small, embarrassed laugh. “I guess that’s why my
wife told me I could come out here by myself. Emmy felt as
if she was a distraction. Poor girl, maybe she was.”
Judith was slicing cheese. “Your wife remained in the East?”
Russell nodded. “She still lives in New Jersey. Our children
are grown, and on their own. More or less.”
“Less is not more when it comes to children,” Renie murmured. “You live alone, Russell?”
“I do. It’s fine.” He gave both cousins a diffident smile.
“No distractions.”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 159
The tea kettle whistled. Judith hadn’t been able to find a
tea pot, so she poured the hot water directly into a mug and
added a tea bag. “Then you can’t think of any reason why
someone might be killing your co-workers?”
Sadly, Russell shook his head. “As I mentioned, power is
very attractive to certain people. Persons, I mean. But it
doesn’t seem to be the case here. Especially under the revised
circumstances.”
Renie jumped on the phrase. “What revised circumstances?”
Russell drew back on the stool. “Well…” His fair skin
flushed. “I can’t actually say. It’s just that…er…ah…the future
isn’t as clear as it once was.”
Renie leaned closer to Russell. “For OTIOSE in general?”
He fidgeted on the stool. “Not…um…well…It’s too complicated, and I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Remembering that Russell liked cream, Judith poured some
into his mug. “You should if it would save lives,” she said in
her sternest voice.
For one fleeting moment, the stark expression on Russell
Craven’s face indicated that he was about to unburden himself. But he shook his head, and spoke with unusual firmness.
“No. I can’t betray a trust. Besides, I honestly don’t believe
that there’s any connection between these awful murders
and…my point of reference.”
Judith’s shoulders slumped in discouragement; Renie
turned her back on Russell. A strained silence fell over the
kitchen.
At last, Russell cleared his throat. “Excuse me…Could I
have some sugar, please?”
Judith gave Russell the sugar and a baleful look. Seeing
that he would not leave the kitchen without them, Judith
hurried through her task. She found some olives and pickles
in the refrigerator, added them to the tray, and headed for
the lobby.
Renie and Russell followed. Killegrew was not the only
160 / Mary Daheim
one who was drinking by the time Judith put the appetizer
tray down on the coffee table. Max and Gene had returned
after a fruitless search of the third floor. They each held a
martini glass, as did Nadia and Ava. Margo was drinking
straight Scotch from a shot glass.
“I have hot tea,” Russell said in a shy voice, though it was
impossible to tell if the statement was made to assert his
virtue or to prevent an offer of alcohol.
“Gene and I are going to start shoveling after we polish
these off,” Max said, indicating his cocktail. “We can’t wait
around all day for Ward, especially now that it’s started to
snow.”
“I can’t think where Ward would be,” Nadia said in a
fretful voice.
“Who can?” Margo snapped. “You’ve already said that
forty times.”
Judith glanced at the flagstones near the entrance. The
water was getting deeper and wider. “We’d better get back
to work,” she said to Renie. “Otherwise, we’re going to be
at flood stage.”
“Great,” Renie murmured. “I can’t swim.”
The cousins returned to their seemingly endless chore.
They could hear the pressure of the snow against the lodge,
causing creaks and groans in the structure. Despite the new
flakes, there was yet more daylight showing at the top of the