father was listed. Instead, there was a picture of a cat sitting
on the roof of a house, and a notation that read, “Ha Ha!”
“What does that mean?” Renie demanded.
Judith smirked. “What it shows.” Her dark eyes glittered.
“Frank was born in a cat house. No wonder he’s ashamed
of his origins.”
“Woo-woo,” Renie said under her breath. “That’s funny.”
“No, it’s not.” Judith, who had flipped through the rest of
the pages, suddenly turned serious. “Well, maybe it is, but
the unfunny part is that Frank’s file stops long before last
year. There’s nothing after his years with the Bell System.”
Renie grabbed the folder out of Judith’s lap. “You’re right,”
she said in wonder. “There’s no mention of OTIOSE.”
Rubbing at her temples, Judith got up from the bed and
looked out the window. The rain continued to come down,
a steady sheet with no hint of wind to shift the dark clouds.
“The snow’s still melting…”
Judith screamed. Renie ran to join her cousin.
There was a man at the window, and he was holding a
high-powered rifle.
EIGHTEEN
JUDITH AND RENIE flattened themselves against the wall,
hopefully out of the line of fire. “What do you want?” Judith
cried, finally finding both her courage and her voice.
In answer, the man slammed the butt of the rifle into one
of the smaller panes. Glass shattered onto the floor. Judith
and Renie held onto each other, both shaking like leaves.
The man, who was on the top rung of a tall aluminum extension ladder, reached through the broken pane and tried to
unlatch the window. Judith looked around for something to
hit at his fumbling fingers, but there was nothing within
reach. The window opened, and the man scrambled into the
room. Raindrops and wet snow flew in every direction.
“What’s going on?” he demanded in a rough voice.
Judith blinked several times. The man wore a heavy parka
over ski pants, and rested the rifle butt on the floor next to
his all-weather boots. He had a gray beard and a weathered
face, but wasn’t much taller than Judith.
“Who are you?” Judith asked in a faint voice.
The intruder’s initial reaction was hostile, then he frowned
at the cousins. “Mannheimer, who else?”
“Mannheimer?” Judith echoed the name. “Do we know
you?”
“Hell, no.” Mannheimer shook off the moisture that had
accumulated on his person. “Rudy Mannheimer, Mountain
Goat Lodge caretaker. Who the hell are
“The caterers,” Judith replied, stretching the truth a bit.
“We got marooned. Where have you been?”
