Don’t you get it? I’m not going down with your stupid S.S.
OTIOSE.”
“Now, now,” Killegrew began, “you’re considering just the
short term…”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 225
“Don’t start again!” Ava cried. “I can’t stand it!” She buried
her face against a side pocket.
“I’m confused,” Russell said in a disconsolate voice.
“Margo, I thought you liked Alan Roth. I’m the one who
should be upset. I am upset. My career is over.”
“Now, now,” Killegrew repeated, “you don’t know that for
sure, Russell. If the board agrees to change the by-laws and
I stay on as CEO, it won’t matter if we merge with WaCom.
I’ll still have an oar in the water.”
“But you won’t!” Ava declared, attempting to sit up on the
pool table. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! That’s why
it doesn’t matter if you name me as Ward’s successor. Do
you think Alan Roth will want any of us working for him
after what happened to his wife this weekend?”
Judith and Renie glanced at each other. “Ava as executive
vice president?” Judith said under her breath.
“Why not?” Renie whispered. “She’s very capable.”
Killegrew had assumed an authoritative stance in front of
the dart board. Max’s homely face was belligerent, but he
set the last two darts down on the wet bar. Gene moved out
from under the antlers while Margo finally turned all the way
around to face the others.
“It may be,” Killegrew said, hooking his thumbs in his
suspenders, “that this weekend—as tragic as it’s been—could
work in our favor.” Seeing the dismay and even horror on
the faces of his employees, Killegrew held up a hand. “Now,
now—don’t get me wrong. Nobody is more upset by what’s
happened here than I am. But there’s always an upside. Ava’s
got the right idea about Alan Roth. He may not want anything to do with us now that Andrea’s…passed away. But
that might mean WaCom will scrap the whole merger idea.
This crew has scurvy, right? We’re contaminated. There are
other telecommunications companies out there to merge
with.” Killegrew looked at Gene. “What about Alien Tel?
Settle the damned suit out of court and let WaCom gobble
them up.”
Gene Jarman stiffened. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that.
226 / Mary Daheim
It’s a point of…It’s a legal point.” Gene turned away.
Killegrew jabbed a finger at his legal counsel. “You’ll do
it if I tell you to! We can’t afford a personal…” The CEO
swung around to Margo. “Well? What can’t we afford?”
Margo sighed. “The word’s ‘vendetta,’ Frank.”
“Vendetta?” Killegrew wrinkled his blunt nose. “Okay, we
can’t afford that. So drop it, first thing.”
Gene said nothing; his face was expressionless.
Max picked up a pool cue and broke it in two. “So where
the hell does that leave me?”
“Right where you belong,” Killegrew shot back. “You and
Russell both. If we can get out of this WaCom deal, your
departments stay as they are.”
“If,” growled Max. “That’s a damned big word, Frank.”
“We’ll see.” Killegrew moved toward the wet bar, which
someone had stocked with the dwindling number of liquor
bottles. “It’s almost eleven. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to run
up the cocktail flag a little early. Nadia, mix me a Scotch and
soda, will you?”
The request seemed to echo off the plate glass windows
and disappear among the high polished beams of the ceiling.
Judith and Renie had moved close together, scrutinizing each
of the six remaining conferees. Ava, who had dried her eyes,
glanced behind her; Gene’s stance became less rigid as he
looked around the room; Margo moved closer to the group
and frowned; Max, looking curious, rested the broken pool
cue pieces against his thigh; Russell sat on a chessboard,
oblivious to the pieces he had knocked over, including the
bishop that was poking into his backside. It was only Frank
Killegrew who showed immediate dismay, and for all the
wrong reasons.
“Where’d Nadia go? I said I could use a drink. What’s
wrong with that woman? Doesn’t she know who signs her
checks?”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 227
“Leon used to,” Margo said. “As chief financial officer, he
signed all our checks.”
Killegrew glowered at Margo. “You know what I mean.
Didn’t Nadia go with you to the restroom a while ago?”
Margo shook her head. “She left the game room before I
did, Frank. You asked her to get you a coffee refill.”
“Which,” Killegrew declared with great umbrage, “she did
not do. Where’s her sense of loyalty?”
Ava struggled to get off the pool table, while Gene began
to shift nervously from foot to foot. Margo swung the suede
bag in an ominous gesture and Max started for the dining
room.
“She may still be in the kitchen,” Max said over his
shoulder. “I’ll check.”
“Not without a bodyguard,” Gene called out, and hurried
to join Max.
Russell swerved on the chessboard, sending several pawns
and a rook onto the floor. “Where’s Nadia?” he asked in a
vague, bewildered voice.
“Russell…” Margo began, but she sounded weary and went
mute.
Ava was hugging herself, her chin sunk into the high rolled
neck of her navy sweater. “I can’t…she couldn’t…Oh, God!”
Max and Gene returned via the corridor that led through
the laundry room to the kitchen. “She’s not anywhere we
could see,” Gene announced in a tense voice. “Should we
look in the basement?”
“Why,” Killegrew demanded, “would Nadia be in the
basement? There’s no coffee pot down there.” But the usual
bluster had gone out of him; he sounded frightened and unsure.
Judith was beginning to doubt the wisdom of keeping the
others in the dark. She plucked at the sleeve of Renie’s
sweatshirt and drew her back towards the lobby entrance.
“Maybe we should tell them,” she whispered.
228 / Mary Daheim
Renie shook her head. “It’s too late. Let it slide.”
Margo was staring at her watch. “How long has Nadia
been gone? Half an hour?”
“More than that,” Killegrew responded. “It wasn’t quite
ten when I asked her to get me some more coffee. It’s bangup
eleven now. Six bells,” he added, but his voice broke on the
nautical reference.
Taking in Killegrew’s obvious distress, Gene Jarman joined
his chief on the hearth. “Let’s divide ourselves into threes,”
he said, then apparently remembered Judith and Renie. “I
mean, fours. Half of us will search the rest of this floor and
the basement. The other half will go up to the second and
third floors. Ava, Margo, Max—will you come with me?”
Max stepped forward at once, but neither woman seemed
anxious to take part. Briefly, they stared at each other, and
some sort of understanding must have passed between them.
Margo actually gave Ava a hand to help her down from the
pool table.
“Why,” Margo murmured, “didn’t I resign last week?”
“You had no reason then,” Ava said.
“Yes, I did.” Margo trooped out of the lobby with Ava,