see the mountains. It’s beautiful outside.”
“Great,” Judith said, putting on the dark red three-quarter
coat Joe had given her for Christmas. “Let’s have a look before it starts getting dark.”
The cousins went out through the dining room, where Judith had cleared away the luncheon debris and reset the table
for the buffet supper. In the lobby, they paused to
examine some of the art works more closely. There were
soapstone carvings, Native American masks, and a few pieces
of jade, which were kept under glass. The only painting was
a large, rather abstract mountain scene hanging above the
big stone fireplace.
Judith smiled wistfully when she saw the swirling signature
in the lower left-hand corner. “It’s a Riley Tobias,” she said
to Renie. “Doesn’t that bring back a few memories?”
Renie, however, made a face. “Not good ones, seeing how
we found him dead next door to the family cabin.”
Judith inclined her head in assent. “His art lives on, though.
He did some wonderful work at one time.”
“Let’s skip the body count,” Renie said. “You and I have
had our share of stiffs over the years.”
It was true. But Judith rarely marveled at her encounters
with premeditated death. She was married to a homicide
detective; she was engaged in a business which brought together all sorts of people, with all kinds of passions and
quirks; she had a natural curiosity and a penchant for the
unusual; she lived in a violent world. To outsiders, her daily
routine of personal and professional domesticity should have
invited calm. But coping with husbands, children, relatives,
in-laws, neighbors, and friends brought not only joy but
conflict. And the B&B guests ran the gamut from amiable to
zany. If Judith didn’t exactly live life in the fast lane, she was
accustomed to traveling a bumpy road with unexpected detours.
“Here’s the library,” Renie said, standing in the doorway
of a room off the far side of the lobby. “It’s nice.”
Judith agreed. Unlike the rest of the lodge, the room was
paneled in knotty pine. Tall, open bookcases reached almost
to the ceiling. With her librarian’s eye, Judith took in the
collection, from some of the classics to the latest best-sellers.
There was also a combination game-and sunroom, which
faced what was probably a terrace when the snow melted.
Renie showed Judith the main conference room, though it
lay in darkness and they couldn’t find the lightswitch.
“You get the idea,” Renie said dryly. “Chairs, tables, a
viewing screen, sound system, etc. Seen one big conference
room, seen ’em all.” She started to close the double doors.
Judith put one hand on Renie’s arm and signaled with the
other for her cousin to be silent. A faint rustling noise could
be heard from somewhere deep within the room.
