he said, looking put upon.
Margo sneered. “You’re the only one who’s drinking,
Frank. I don’t think the rest of us have much of an appetite.”
“There’s some cheese and crackers,” Judith said. “If you
like, I can make up a tray.”
Killegrew nodded. “As I said, we have to keep up our
strength.”
The cousins trekked off to the kitchen. Russell Craven was
at their heels, hemming and hawing.
“I don’t mean to trouble you, but…ah…er…I would enjoy
a cup of tea. Um…often, in the afternoon around this time,
my secretary, Ms. Honeythunder, brings me a nice hot cup.”
“It’s no bother,” Judith assured him. “I’ll put the kettle on
right away.”
“Soothing,” Russell said with a little sigh. “Refreshing.
Bracing. Hot tea.” He started to sit down on one of the
stools, then jumped back as if he’d been stung by a bee.
“Is that…?” Jerkily, he pointed to the counter.
“More or less,” Renie said. “Go ahead, sit down. What
Leon had isn’t contagious.”
“But it is.” Russell’s fair, rather weak features were filled
with despair. “One by one, we’re…doomed.”
The remark was unsettling. Judith opened her mouth to
contradict Russell, considered what had happened thus far,
and kept quiet. Renie squirmed a bit before taking Russell
by the hand and leading him to a stool on the opposite side
of the counter.
“If you really believe that,” Renie said, at her most solemn,
“then you must try to help us. Do you know why your people
are being killed?”
Russell chewed on his lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about
that. Of course, that’s all I ever do—I think.”
“And you get ideas,” Renie said encouragingly. “Often,
they’re brilliant ideas. How about now?”
“Well…um…” Russell ran a hand through his unruly hair.
“It had occurred to me that someone was trying to get Frank’s
possible successors out of the way to make room for himself—or herself. Naturally, the ultimate decision is always
up to the board of directors.” Russell uttered
a nervous little cough, perhaps embarrassed by his uncharacteristic loquaciousness. “But you see, I don’t think Andrea
or Leon was being considered—though you never know.
And that young fellow—what was his name?—he was from
the lower ranks. So that doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
“No,” Renie agreed. “It doesn’t. I understand that Ward
and possibly Ava and maybe you are the prime candidates.”
“Not me!” Russell held up both hands as if to ward off the
corner office. “I’d never take such a pressure-packed position!
I’m perfectly happy where I am! I’d make a terrible CEO!”
