passing a big semi-truck.
Judith noticed that some of the taller trees were dusted
with fresh snow. “Really?” she remarked. “You haven’t said
so to me.”
Renie gave a little shrug. “It won’t be final—or real—until
he hands in his retirement application to the university administration. I never anticipate, you know.”
“Joe’s talking about it, too.” Judith tried to keep her tone
light. “Of course he wouldn’t retire for another three years.”
“Good for him,” Renie said, moving back into the righthand lane. “Both of our husbands have had long careers.
They need to kick back and enjoy themselves.”
“Yes.” Judith’s tone was dubious. “Yes. I suppose they do.”
A vision of Dan McMonigle, supine and blimplike on the
sofa, rumbled through her mind’s eye. “It’s just that I’ve been
through quite a bit of change lately. With Mike married and
now being transferred, he and Kristin could end up in Alaska
or Hawaii or Florida where I’d hardly ever see them.”
“So Joe retires and you travel.” Renie shrugged. “That’s
what people do. Frank Killegrew’s retiring, by the way,” she
added as they drove further into the forest and away from
civilization. “Haugland’s his heir apparent, but I’ve heard
you can’t count on it.”
Judith glanced at the list Renie had given her. She wasn’t
terribly interested in OTIOSE’s career paths. All she could
think of was trying to live on Joe’s retirement and Social Security. Would he insist she give up Hillside Manor and retire
with him?
“Doesn’t retirement make you feel
asked.
“Huh?” Renie seemed puzzled. “No, why should it? It’s a
natural act, like eating or shopping for shoes. Besides, I won’t
give up my graphic design business. I do it at home, we can
use the extra money, and I’d be bored stiff if I didn’t work.”
“I agree,” Judith said as low clouds drifted across the
divided six-lane highway. “I’d like to keep the B&B going
for another ten years. But I’ll definitely dump the catering
part in the next few months. Say,” she went on, changing
gears, “speaking of caterers, what about the guy who disappeared last year?”
Renie frowned. “I told you. He left on some errand and
never came back. End of story.”
Judith, who possessed a very logical mind, wanted details.
“He never came back to the lodge? Or he never came back,
period?”
“Period.” Renie was exhibiting a touch of impatience. “This
Barry…Newsom or Newsbaum or…Newcombe, I think it
was, had forgotten something for his catering stockpile. He
went off that Friday afternoon, presumably to the nearest
store which is at the summit of the pass, and never came
