wondered where the blasts had been set off. Perhaps at the
summit, where the main ski areas and the private chalets
were located. Though loud, the booms hadn’t sounded very
close. Maybe there was no danger around the lodge.
But there was danger inside, Judith reminded herself
grimly. Half an hour later, she and Renie were in the kitchen.
It was a shambles. Coffee had been spilled all over the
counter, egg yolk dripped down the front of the stove, there
was burned toast in the sink, and a broken cereal bowl lay
in several pieces on the floor.
“Pigs!” Judith cried. “Look at this mess!”
“It’s not our mess,” Renie pointed out. “Shall I tell Frank
Killegrew to come in here and clean up?”
“Yes.” Judith folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, I’d
like to see that. I’m sick of these jerks.”
Renie started to shake her head, then straightened her
shoulders and marched out to the dining room. Vaguely astonished, Judith followed.
“Okay,” Renie barked, “we’re padlocking the kitchen
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 213
unless you lazy swine get off your dead butts. You have five
minutes.”
Judith saw the seven disbelieving faces stare at Renie.
Seven, she thought. They’re all still alive and eating breakfast.
Why am I surprised?
Nadia got to her feet. “Of course we’ll tidy up. I always
tidy up. Ava, Margo, let’s all pitch in.”
Margo held onto the edge of the table as if she thought it
might levitate. “Screw it, Nadia. One of the men can help.
Why should Ava and I get stuck with so-called women’s
work? Why should you, for that matter? Stand up for yourself for once.”
Nadia looked shocked. “It’s no trouble. Really, Margo…”
“I can wash dishes,” Russell offered with a sheepish expression. “I do it whenever I run out of plates.”
Margo snapped her fingers at Russell. “Then do it here.
Get going.” Russell scurried away, while Nadia started to
follow him. Margo, however, put out a restraining arm. “No,
you don’t. Let one of these bozos go with Russell.” Her
withering glance took in Killegrew, Max, and Gene.
“Why not?” Gene said with a shrug. “I’m single, like Russell. I have to fend for myself sometimes.”
Margo dropped her arm but kept her attention on Nadia.
“What are you going to do when Frank retires? You’re not
yet fifty, you’re too young to retire. Are you going to hang
on with OTIOSE and be a slave for the next CEO?”
Nadia lifted her pointed chin. “Frank’s not going to retire.
How can he, after all this?”
“Isn’t that up to the board of directors?” Max’s expression
was puzzled as he regarded his chief.
Killegrew held his head. “Of course it is. I’ll be sixty-five
in June, which is the mandatory retirement age. Of course,”
he continued in a thoughtful voice, “the board could change
the by-laws.”
“Maybe they will.” Ava’s tone was bland. “Why not,
Frank?”
214 / Mary Daheim
“Well…” Killegrew scowled at Ava, then brushed toast
crumbs from his plaid shirt. “If WaCom really plans to attempt a merger with us, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep
the same skipper at the helm of the S.S. OTIOSE.”
Max was now looking more worried than puzzled. “Are
you saying you won’t fight the merger, Frank? Hell, you
won’t officially retire until June. This deal’s supposed to
come down next week.”
“I haven’t charted our course yet,” Killegrew replied. “How
can I, without a first mate? Ward’s…gone.”
“Name someone to fill his spot,” Margo said, finally sitting
down again. “The board can ratify the appointment later.
You can exercise emergency powers. If,” she added dryly,
“there ever was an emergency, this weekend is it.”
Judith thought that was an understatement. Still standing
by the door, she peeked into the kitchen. Somewhat to her
surprise, Russell and Gene were hard at work. The vice
president—research and development was scrubbing the
stove; the company’s legal counsel was sweeping the floor.
Judith quietly closed the door.
“We should discuss this,” Killegrew said. “Formally, I
mean. Nadia, bring my coffee into the game room. We’ll
take a meeting there. Get Gene and Russell out of the kitchen.”
Five minutes later, the OTIOSE contingent had adjourned
to the game room. Renie surveyed the mess they had left
behind in the dining room. “So much for my big mouth,”
she said. “Now I suppose I won’t get the graphic design
consulting contract.”
“Do you still want it?” Judith asked, forcing herself not to
start clearing away the table.
“Sure,” Renie answered, heading for the kitchen. “If I
turned down jobs from all the corporate types I thought were
unethical or arrogant or even criminal, I’d go broke. As long
as their money doesn’t have pictures of Bugs Bunny on it,
I’ll take it straight to the bank.”
The kitchen, at least, looked almost clean. Judith and
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 215
Renie made toast, fixed bowls of cereal, and poured coffee.
“I guess we won’t be going to church this Sunday,” Judith
said in a wry voice.
“I guess not,” Renie agreed. “I wonder if Father Hoyle has
ever heard an excuse like ours for missing Mass?”
“You mean, ‘I didn’t attend church last Sunday because I
was trapped inside a mountain lodge during a blizzard and
possible avalanches with three dead bodies and a homicidal
maniac?’” Judith laughed, a slightly bitter sound. “As excuses
go, it’s not bad. Let’s hope Father Hoyle believes us.”
“He will,” Renie said, opening a jar of boysenberry jam.
“I’m sure he recalls a rather lethal Easter Bunny a few years
ago at Our Lady, Star of the Sea.”
“Don’t remind me,” Judith said. Given their current situation, she wasn’t in the mood to think back to the deadly
doings in her home parish. “Hey,” she burst out, knocking
the spoon out of her cereal, “let’s go exploring.”
Renie’s eyes widened. “Where? Not the third floor—I
don’t need to see any more bodies.”
“The files,” Judith said. “Somebody must have them. What
do you bet that most of these people don’t lock their doors
after they leave their rooms? We didn’t.”
“They would if they had the files,” Renie countered. “If
they haven’t destroyed them, they’d stash them somewhere
no one else would think to look.”
“Good point.” Judith was momentarily subdued. “Do you
really think they’ll talk Frank into not retiring?”
Renie narrowed her eyes. “What do you think?”
“He doesn’t sound like a man who wants to retire,” Judith
said after a brief pause. “I’ve never heard him mention a
single thing about what he plans to do. Joe’s already sending
away for information on fishing trips.”
“He should have asked Bill,” Renie said. “My husband’s
got a suitcase full of fishing brochures, not to mention cruises,
Amtrak trips, and half the hotel-casinos in Vegas.”
216 / Mary Daheim
Abruptly, Judith stood up. “Let’s go.”
“You’re serious.” Reluctantly, Renie set her coffee mug on