Mary Daheim - Snow Place to Die - A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

from the sound of Frank Killegrew’s voice, the OTIOSE

contingent had regrouped in the game room.

“…real brave of you, Rudy,” Judith heard Killegrew say to

the caretaker. “What are our chances of getting out of here?”

Mannheimer must have been standing further away. His

response was muffled. “Melting…trouble…what…?”

Killegrew’s laugh was forced. “You might say we’ve had

some nasty accidents. The blizzard, the heavy rains, the

avalanche warnings.” He laughed again. “Then you get into

stress and tensions and all sorts of heavy seas that can rock

the boat. Not to worry, Rudy, old man, we’re managing.”

“Frank!” Judith recognized Margo’s anguished cry.

“He has to know.” Gene’s voice could barely be distinguished.

“I don’t like this,” Russell muttered. “He has a gun.”

“What Rudy needs is a drink,” Killegrew declared. “Come

on, let’s adjourn to the lobby. I wouldn’t pass up a stiff shot

of Scotch myself.”

Judith heard voices muttering and feet shuffling. The

sounds died away. “Let’s cut back through the kitchen and

listen from the dining room,” Judith whispered.

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 249

Just as they entered the kitchen, the phone rang. Renie

sprang for it, catching the receiver before the final “brrng”

stopped.

“Joe!” Renie cried. “Thank God! Here, I’ll let you talk to

Judith!”

Judith suddenly felt close to tears. “Where are you? Arlene

said…Never mind, is everything all right?”

“Yeah, it is now,” Joe replied, though he sounded harried.

“Woody and I finally got somebody with a four-wheel drive

to get us out of that place by the lake. What’s going on with

you? Are you stranded up there?”

“Yes,” Judith answered. “It’s raining, though. Maybe we

can get out tomorrow.” She took a deep breath. “Meanwhile,

there’s something you should know.”

“If it’s about that body you found, forget it,” Joe said,

sounding increasingly irritable. “The deputy chief talked to

some bozo or some bimbo up there Friday, and that accidental death you mentioned isn’t our problem. Have them call

the park service. They have jurisdiction.”

“Oh. That’s good. I’ll tell them right away.” Judith took

another deep breath. “While we’re on the subject, I should

come clean about…”

“Clean? Sorry, somebody’s trying to talk to me at this end.

Hold on.” Joe must have put his hand over the receiver; Judith could hear only muffled voices. “Yeah, I need clean underwear,” he said, coming back on the line. “Your goofy

cleaning woman didn’t come Friday because she was afraid

it would snow. I couldn’t find any dark socks yesterday.

Where does she put the clean stuff after it comes out of the

dryer?”

Judith always marveled at her husband’s inability to find

any of his belongings, even when they were right under his

nose. Or, as had occasionally happened, in his hands.

“Phyliss,” she said, referring to her daily help, “keeps three

separate baskets in the basement. The blue one is for the

B&B laundry, the green is for our personal linens and tow- 250 / Mary Daheim

els, and she puts our clothes in the yellow one. They should

all be lined up by the washer and dryer, which, in case you’ve

forgotten, is in the basement laundry room.”

“Hey!” Joe barked. “What’s with the sarcasm? I not only

get called in on a weekend, I get stuck with a stiff in a house

that hardly has any food in it. Plus, I have to share a bed

with the M.E. who snores like a steam engine and smells

like…well, like an M.E. Woody was smart—he grabbed one

of the twin beds in the master bedroom.”

“Why didn’t you take the other one?” Judith asked.

“Because the stiff was lying on it.” Joe sounded as if he

were gnashing his teeth.

“Oh.” Judith’s urge to tell Joe about the other murders

faded. “I’m sorry about that. Really. Will you be able to get

home?”

“I don’t know.” Joe now sounded glum. “Even with fourwheel drive, it’s almost impossible to get up Heraldsgate

Hill in snow this deep.”

“Maybe we’ll both be home by tomorrow,” Judith said

with what she hoped was optimism.

“Maybe.” Joe obviously wasn’t convinced. “I’ve got to go.

There’s a pile of paperwork on my desk.”

“Okay. Be careful. Please.”

“Right. You, too.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” Joe rang off.

“He’s in a bad mood,” Judith said, replacing the receiver

and looking for the telephone directory, which he finally

found under a turkey roaster.

“He’d be in a worse one if you’d told him about the other

bodies,” Renie pointed out. “Who’d he say to call?”

“The park service.” Judith ran her finger down the listings

under federal government. “Here’s the number.”

Renie’s round face was troubled. “Why you?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s their problem.” Renie jerked a thumb over her

shoulder. “Tell them to call. Why get involved?”

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 251

“We are involved,” Judith countered. “We’ll be questioned,

we’ll have to give statements.”

“So? Deal with that when the time comes. But for now,

have one of the survivors out there call. Better yet, tell Mannheimer. He’s the caretaker, it’s his job.”

Judith put the receiver back in its cradle. “Okay, I will.

Let’s see how the rest of them are faring.”

They weren’t faring particularly well. Having reopened

the liquor bottles, the distraught OTIOSE executives had

now degenerated into a maudlin state. Frank Killegrew was

feeling very sentimental and was exchanging old war stories

with Rudy Mannheimer, who appeared to have gotten drunk

rather quickly.

“…out on patrol…cold as a well-digger’s…then these gooks

came…” Killegrew’s voice was lost in a maundering mumble.

“Gooks?” Margo sounded indignant, though she lacked her

usual fire. “What kind of language is that?”

“Slopes,” Mannheimer said, his voice thick with whiskey.

“North Korean S.O.B.s. Hell, honey, you’re too young. You

don’t know nothin’.”

Judith and Renie were hiding next to the French doors

that led to the lobby. They could hear, but not see the

speakers.

“Screw Korea,” Max declared. “That was a picnic compared

to ’Nam. Jungle, heat, bugs, civilians loaded with grenades…”

“Bull,” Mannheimer retorted. “You ain’t fought a war till

you freeze your nummies off at Pyongyang.”

“War’s horrible,” Ava said, her voice shaking with conviction. “Killing is horrible. Death is horrible. Life is…horrible.”

The cousins heard footsteps hurrying from the lobby.

“Ava,” Judith breathed. “Let’s head her off.”

Judith and Renie ran back through the dining room, the

kitchen and the laundry room. Down the hall, they could

see Ava getting into the elevator. The cousins raced up the

252 / Mary Daheim

backstairs, arriving just as Ava stepped out onto the second

floor.

“Don’t!” Judith yelled. “Wait!”

Ava ran, too, heading for her room which was two doors

down from the elevator. She nipped inside, but couldn’t close

the door before Judith put a shoulder against the solid pine.

“Stop it, Ava!” Judith commanded. “Let us in! Please! Don’t