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executives, we’re used to being independent and going our

separate ways.”

“No teamwork, huh?” said Renie. “Every man—sorry, every

person—for him or herself.”

“Well,” Ava said lamely, “we do tend to think mostly in

terms of our own departments. You have to. Otherwise,

you’d get shortchanged on personnel, budget, even floor

space and office equipment.”

“Don’t I know it?” Max muttered, starting back into the

corridor. “As Frank would say, you have to chart your own

course.”

“But he also says we have to row together,” Ava countered,

following Max down the hall. “When you’re at the top, like

Frank is, you can see the big…”

Renie closed the door. “I can’t stand another word of that

crap,” she declared. “They’ve got dead bodies all over the

place, the company may be in ruins, they’re all scared out

of their wits—and they still talk the corporate line. It’s sickening.”

Judith wasn’t really listening to Renie. After taking a couple

of bites of her sandwich, she asked her cousin to make sure

the coast was clear in the corridor.

Renie opened the door again. “They’re gone. So what?”

Judith gave Renie a baleful look. “They didn’t lock the

door. Either Max and Ava don’t think we’re dangerous, or

they know we’re not. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Renie was looking blank.

“The bathroom, remember?” Judith breezed past her

cousin.

“What bathroom? I thought you—oh, never mind.” Renie

trotted behind Judith as they covered the length of the corridor until they reached Leon’s room.

In the struggle to get Killegrew and Russell out of the

242 / Mary Daheim

room and away from Nadia’s corpse, no one had thought

to lock Leon’s door, either. Judith marched right inside,

though Renie lingered briefly on the threshold.

“How many times do we have to view the body?” Renie

asked.

“Avert your eyes,” Judith called over her shoulder as she

went into the bathroom. “At least they already moved Andrea

upstairs.”

With a sigh of resignation, Renie followed. Judith was

pushing back the nylon shower curtain.

“Don’t tell me…” Renie began with a gasp.

Judith shook her head. “No body. Just…the files.”

Several folders covered the empty tub. Judith picked them

up, handing the first batch to Renie. “They had to be somewhere,” Judith said. “It dawned on me that along with Andrea, Nadia knew Barry Newcombe fairly well. Let’s say that

Barry was privy to some of the items in Andrea’s private

files. He worked for her, didn’t he?”

Renie nodded. “Barry might have snooped. Clerks often

do.”

“Okay. So Barry might have passed something juicy on to

someone else. Why not Nadia? Since he was in the business

of bartering gossip, she’d be a likely client because she’d

know what was happening on the executive floor. Let’s say

Nadia got an inkling that more was to come—except Barry

never got the chance to pass the rest of it on. In the normal

course of events at work, Nadia couldn’t get at Andrea’s

private files. But once Andrea was dead, Nadia seized an

opportunity. That must be who Max saw in the corridor

Friday night. Nadia must have beaten him to the punch by

just a few minutes.”

Renie was looking skeptical. “How did Nadia know Andrea

had those files with her?”

Judith waved a hand. “Andrea was dropping hints, especially about the hooker files. I suspect she was passing tidbits

on to the others as well. Gene and Russell and even

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 243

Nadia were being clobbered with some of that data. It had

to come from somewhere.”

The files were somewhat damp, but otherwise appeared

to be intact. The cousins gathered up the folders and hurried

back to their own room, and this time, they locked the door

from the inside.

“The hooker file!” Renie cried. “It’s right on top!”

“Good,” Judith responded, fingering the tabs on the other

folders. “There are files for each of the conferees, including

Andrea. Does that strike you as odd?”

Renie, however, shook her head. “I’ll bet it’s full of stuff

she heard people say about her. Not true necessarily, but

potentially damaging.”

“Corporate paranoia and skullduggery never cease to amaze

me,” Judith marveled. “Shall we start with Ward? He’s first.”

On a gray, wet January afternoon, what little light there

was began to die away shortly after three o’clock. The cousins

had to turn on the bedside lamps before they completed the

dossiers on Ward, Gene, Nadia, Russell, Max, Margo, Leon,

Ava, and Andrea’s own much slimmer folder. Judith and

Renie had learned very little that they hadn’t already heard.

“So what if Ava had had a youthful, unhappy marriage

before she left Samoa?” Renie shrugged. “Russell collects

dead bugs. Big deal. Margo supposedly slept with everybody.

Naturally, Andrea would want to believe that. Ward’s wife

was an albatross. Andrea had fingered Max for running the

hooker ring. No surprise there, either. I’m getting bored.”

“Leon was devoted to his mother,” Judith said, flipping

through the chief financial officer’s file. “He was very secretive

about his personal and his professional life. Obviously, the

latter was a sore point with Andrea. She’s written a note on

this one page that says, ‘Why can’t he tell me?’ ‘Me’ is underlined three times.”

“They were sleeping together,” Renie said. “Like most

244 / Mary Daheim

women, she probably felt they shouldn’t have secrets from

each other. Like most men, Leon may not have agreed.”

Judith looked up from the file. “There’s a page missing.”

“How can you tell?” Renie inquired. “Most of the entries

are fragmentary.”

“Not all of them.” Judith tapped what appeared to be the

last page in the folder. “Andrea has written what must have

been the equivalent of a teenaged girl’s diary. She goes on

at length about some staff meeting and an independent audit

and how Leon stood up to Frank and refused to be badgered

and acted like—I quote—‘ a real man.’ Then she writes that

Frank brought up the audit later…and that’s it. The sentence

stops, and the last page starts in mid-sentence about how

much Leon liked the annual report cover with the photo of

the sun setting behind the microwave tower.”

“It was a cliché shot, though,” Renie said. “I did some of

the interior graphics for that report and…Whoa! That’s the

end of Leon’s file?”

Judith nodded. “That’s it. Why?”

“Because that was last year’s annual report.” Renie

frowned, then started looking through some of the other

files. “Coz, this is weird. Check the last pages of the other

folders. See if you can tell when the final entries were made.”

Surprisingly, Andrea had been haphazard about dating

her material. Still, Judith could find nothing more recent than

the previous January.

“That’s very strange,” Judith remarked. “Why would she

stop keeping her personal files a year ago?”

Renie had no explanation. “We haven’t gone through

Frank’s,” she pointed out. “Let’s see if his file ends abruptly,