sweater/jacket with the cream of the blouse, the red of the skirt, and several shades of khaki and brown in a splashy leaf-like pattern. It was really a stunning outfit.
'Wow!' Mel said, when she reappeared. 'You look great!'
'Shelley picked it all out,' Jane admitted. 'Let's go. Oh, I almost forgot again. I've been carrying around a folder that belongs to one of the genealogy people.'
'Why are you carrying it around?'
Jane explained briefly about the genealogy debate and how she'd run into Doris Schmidtheiser and helped pick up her papers, but Doris had fled in mortification before Jane could hand these over. 'I just need to drop them off on the way to dinner. I checked on where she's staying and it's on our way. I meant to leave them as I came here, but forgot.'
'Okay, but you won't stay and talk, will you? I'm starving.'
'Promise.'
Jane's sweater/jacket had a hood that looked warmer than it turned out to be. She was stylish, but freezing by the time they got to Doris's cabin. She had tried to ignore the cold by talking a blue streak about Doris, the Holnagrad Society, and Doris's claim that Bill Smith was the rightful Tsar. When they arrived, Jane tapped lightly on the door and it swung open under her touch. Doris must have been so disconcerted when she returned that she hadn't pushed it closed properly.
'Mrs. Schmidtheiser?' Jane called through the open doorway. 'Yoo-hoo! Are you home? Mrs. Schmidtheiser?'
There was no answer.
'I'll just put it inside,' Jane said. But the moment she stepped inside she knew something was wrong. 'Mel,' she said softly.
The alarm in her voice brought him instantly to her side.
The cabin was arranged just like Jane's, with an entry hallway that opened onto the living room straight ahead and the kitchen to the left and the bedroom hallway to the right. In front of them, papers were strewn all over the floor.
'Stay here,' Mel said sharply.
He went into the living room and Jane, in spite of his orders, followed him.
Doris Schmidtheiser was crumpled on the floor, next to the coffee table. Mel was kneeling beside her, feeling for a pulse. 'Janey, you better wait outside.'
'I'll freeze out there,' Jane said. 'Is she dead?'
'I'm afraid so.'
'Heart attack? She took heart pills.'
'Probably. I'll call the police, then alert the hotel people about what's happening.'
He went to the phone, but pulled out a handkerchief to put in his hand before he picked up the receiver. He dialed 911, spoke briefly, then dialed the hotel operator. 'Who's the owner, Jane?' he asked while waiting for the hotel operator to pick up.
'Bill Smith, but I think you probably want to ask for Tenny Garner.'
He did, then identified himself and told Tenny that a guest had died and he'd already summoned help.
'Why the handkerchief?' Jane asked after he'd hung up. 'If you think it was a heart attack.'
'No reason especially. Just habit.'
Jane looked at him.
'Well, that and the mess. Whenever you have a death in the midst of this kind of disorder, you have to wonder.'
'You think it's murder?'
'No!' he said emphatically. 'I don't think any such thing, and don't let your imagination go rocketing off, either. She's an old lady who had a bad afternoon. She had heart troubles and was under a lot of stress at a high altitude. That's it.'
'Okay, okay. I was just asking.'
Still, she took a quick look around, careful not to touch anything. There was a coffee cup on the low table, nearly empty. Doris was still wearing her outdoor boots, though her coat was nowhere to be seen. Presumably she'd hung it up when she came in. There was a faint odor of overcooked, almost burned coffee in the air, and Jane discovered that the coffee-maker in the kitchen was still on and the coffee had cooked down to a half inch of dregs. She turned it off, fearing nobody else would think of it. Doris's briefcase was upside down on the floor next to her, the papers and folders spread in a messy circle. Jane crept down the hall to the bedroom — this cabin had only one — and it, too, was littered with papers. Several notebooks gaped open, their pages awry as if the contents had been skimmed in a frenzy.
Jane heard a siren and went back to open the front door. A moment later, an ambulance pulled up and medical attendants leaped out and ran in with their equipment. A few seconds behind them was a patrol car. A good ol' boy of a sheriff hoisted himself out of the driver's side, and a rabbity deputy hopped out the other door. The sheriff ignored Jane as he rolled past. 'Excuse me, miss,' the deputy said.
'Well, are you the fella who called this in?' the sheriff boomed.
'Mel VanDyne. Yes, I placed the call.'
'You a relative?'
'No, I've never seen this woman before. But my friend had some papers to return to her. When we got here, the door was open and we found the body.'
'Well, now, ain't that convenient.'
Mel came into the front hallway. He didn't look pleasant.
'Jane,' he said with deadly formality, 'I think maybe you better go down to the lodge. I'll join you in a few minutes.'
'Mel! Why didn't you tell him you're a detective?' she whispered.
'Because I'm not. Not here and now. I'm on vacation. Go on. I'll be with you shortly.'
'Okay. But I'm going to order drinks and appetizers the minute I sit down, so you better hurry.'
Chapter 8
They had dinner reservations in the more formal restaurant. It was an elegant, dimly lighted, artfully arranged room that overlooked the small lake. From her table next to the windows, Jane could watch the skaters below. The table itself was set with superb pink linens, the best-quality restaurant silverware, and beautiful china with a muted pink-and-gray Oriental floral pattern. Although it seemed late to Jane, her internal clock having been completely undone by her earlier nap, the restaurant was just starting to fill up for the evening.
Jane finished her glass of wine and half the appetizers (bite-sized egg rolls with a spicy crab filling). After a while she finished the rest of the appetizers and drank Mel's wine. Then she ordered coffee and nibbled the Italian parsley that had decorated the appetizer plate. Starving, bored senseless, and bursting with curiosity, she couldn't even tell Shelley what had happened, because this was the night Shelley was being hostess to the investors at a cocktail party and dinner in her and Paul's condo.
She studied the other diners for a long while, but decided she was drawing as much attention as she was giving. One middle-aged man with what he no doubt imagined was an attractive two-day beard stubble and a lot of gold chains winked at her.
She told the waiter she'd be back and ran to the little magazine-and-book shop next to the front desk, then checked on Katie and Denise, who had finally emerged from the swimming pool and, fully dressed, were eating burgers at a table on the pool apron. Back with something to read, she drank another cup of coffee, then visited the rest room for the second time. Just as she was returning to her table, the waiter approached to tell her there was a phone message that said she was to order two dinners and her companion would be with her in a moment.
After studying the menu one last time — she nearly had it memorized — she ordered two of the more interesting entrees on it: elk stew with cattail pollen dumplings for herself, and a buffalo steak with horseradish/rosemary sauce and blue cornmeal dressing for Mel.
Mel managed to arrive before the meal did.
'What took you so long?' Jane asked.
