said in wonder. “You get on a bus, you think you’re simply
being sent to some harmless place, but you never come back.”
“My grandparents were slaughtered by Mao’s henchmen,”
Margo said, her grip slackened on the suede bag. “They
thought they were being taken to a political meeting in another village.”
“My family fled Armenia during the First World War,”
Max said in a toneless voice, “but some of our relatives were
massacred by the Turks. It was a bloodbath.”
“I had two great-grandfathers who were lynched,” Gene
said, staring into space. “One in Alabama, the other in South
Carolina. My uncle was almost beaten to death during the
freedom marches in Mississippi. In Oakland, two white cops
gave my father a concussion
233
234 / Mary Daheim
for no reason. Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.”
“Really,” Russell said in a huffy tone, “none of you are
showing much spunk. All we have to do is lock them in their
room. Then we’ll be safe until we can get out of here.”
The suggestion was met with apathy. Slowly, the cousins
moved back towards the others.
“Russell,” Judith began in what she hoped was a reasonable
tone, “you’re off base. If you’re relying on logic, let’s put it
to the test. For openers, we weren’t here last year, which is
when all this may have started. We have nothing to do with
OTIOSE or any other telecommunications outfit except for
my cousin’s tenuous connection through her freelance design
business. I was asked to fill in for some other caterer at the
last minute, as at least some of you may know. Why on earth
would either of us come to Mountain Goat Lodge and start
killing people? It makes absolutely no sense.”
Russell adjusted his rimless glasses. “Killing often doesn’t.
People go on rampages.”
“We don’t,” Renie declared. “Margo, I’ve worked with you
before. Have you ever had any reason to doubt who and
what I am?”
Margo’s expression was unusually vague. “No—I guess
not. But then I never pay much attention to consultants as
individuals. They come in, do their job, and leave.”
Renie sighed. “Yes, I understand that part. But if we’d
wanted to kill you, we’ve had ample opportunity. Why didn’t
we poison your food?”
“Too obvious,” Max responded.
“Poison can be extremely subtle,” declared Judith, who’d
had experience with its cleverly disguised lethal effects. When
the others regarded her with wide-eyed alarm, she hastened
to explain. “I read a lot of mysteries. There are poisons that
can’t be detected, poisons with delayed reactions, poisons
that can be masked in various ways.”
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 235
“That’s true,” Margo said glumly. “I read mysteries, too.”
“So what do we do?” Max asked, automatically turning to
Killegrew.
The CEO scratched an ear. “I don’t know. Eat lunch, I
suppose.” Somehow the callousness of his remark was diluted
by his desolate manner.
Margo got to her feet. “Ava and I’ll make lunch.” Seeing
the startled expressions on the men’s faces, she waved an
impatient hand. “Okay, so it’s women’s work, but this is
different. It’s like…a safety precaution.”
Russell pointed a bony finger at Judith and Renie. “What
about them?”
“Lock them in the library,” Margo retorted as she and Ava
started for the kitchen. “Let them read some more mystery
novels. If they’re so smart, maybe they can figure all this
out.”
The cousins didn’t protest their incarceration. “What a
morning,” Renie sighed as she and Judith sank into the library’s wing-back armchairs. “So much for gratitude. I guess
Russell forgot about that hot tea you made for him.” She
sighed again, gazing at one of the two tall windows which
were flanked by muted plaid drapes. “I wonder how long it
will be until the snow has melted enough that we really can
get out of here?”
Judith shook her head. “It’ll take a while. And don’t forget
the avalanche danger.”
Looking glum, Renie didn’t respond right away. “Somebody out there knows we didn’t do it,” she finally said.
“That’s right,” Judith agreed in a strange voice.
Renie’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know who it is?”
Now it was Judith who didn’t answer immediately. “I’ve
got a hunch,” she admitted at last. “Do you?”
Renie nodded slowly. “I think so, yes.”
“We have no proof,” Judith remarked bleakly. “Those files
might help us, if we could find them.”
236 / Mary Daheim
“You don’t think they’ve been destroyed?”
Judith shook her head. “I don’t think the killer has found
them. Damn,” she cursed under her breath, “I have to go to
the bathroom. Do you think they’ll let us out?”
“Pick the lock,” Renie said. “You can do it.”
Judith brightened. “Maybe I can. It’s worth a try.” Just as
she fished into her shoulder bag for something that would
trip the lock, the pager went off again. “How annoying! I
don’t need that thing bothering me right now. I feel like
throwing it out the window.”
“Stop worrying about something you can’t help,” Renie
advised. “We’ve got more urgent problems here.”
“You’re right.” Judith hauled an oversized paper clip out
of her purse and began straightening it. “Let’s hope these
locks aren’t as daunting as they look. The ones on this floor
are obviously much newer than the ones on the guest room
doors.”
Renie watched while Judith plied the paper clip. The library door had a sophisticated lock, and presented a serious
challenge. After almost five minutes, Judith was forced to
give up.
“We’ll have to knock and yell to get out of here,” she said,
tossing the now useless paper clip into a wastebasket made
of woven branches. “I hope they can hear us.”
Renie began pounding on the door and shouting. Nothing
happened. “I don’t hear any hurrying feet,” she said.
The cousins suddenly heard something else.
The library telephone was ringing.
Judith snatched up the receiver. “Hello? Hello?” she virtually yelled into the mouthpiece.
“Goodness!” exclaimed Arlene Rankers. “Why are you
shouting, Judith? You practically broke my eardrum!”
“Arlene!” Judith collapsed into one of the armchairs.
“What’s wrong, Arlene?”
Renie hovered over Judith, who held the phone away from
her ear just enough so that her cousin could hear, too.
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 237
“I’ve been paging you for two days,” Arlene said in an irritated voice. “I found your pager number on the bulletin board
in the kitchen. I didn’t even know you had a pager, Judith.”
“Ah…Neither did I. I mean, I forgot. But the phones have
been out up here at the lodge and…Never mind, what’s the
problem? Is it Mother?”
“Your mother?” Arlene laughed. “Of course not! Your
mother is wonderful, as always. She had such a nice time
going to Mass and out to breakfast with us. She said you
never took her for rides in the snow any more.”
Judith’s head was spinning. Gertrude hadn’t attended Mass
for almost three years, claiming that she was too feeble. She