just a bit. Let me see…” Renie glanced at Judith. “How about
asking Ava and…” She paused, gazing down at her own
towel-wrapped figure. “…Nadia. I think.”
“Yes. Yes.” Russell nodded enthusiastically. “Ava and Nadia. Shall I…?” He gestured at the door.
“You shall. And we thank you.” Renie cocked her head.
Russell started out the door, then turned back. “Oh! This
business about the sheriff…is it urgent?”
“It’ll keep,” Renie replied dryly.
Russell left. Five minutes later, Ava Aunuu was in the kitchen, hand-tooled leather suitcase in hand. “What
happened?” she asked, evincing what Judith took for actual
concern.
Renie introduced Judith to the woman who served as
OTIOSE’s vice president–information technology services.
The long-winded title didn’t mean much to Judith, but she
recalled that Ava was some kind of computer genius.
“We fell in the creek,” Renie explained. “You and my
cousin are about the same size, so when Russell Craven
suggested we borrow some clothes, I thought of you.”
“Sure,” Ava said, undoing the straps and flipping the locks
on her suitcase. “I brought extra everything along. There’s
underwear, too. I’m not really into clothes, but you never
know what can happen on one of these retreats.” Her brown
eyes danced with what might have been amusement—or
something less pleasant.
Judith picked up the first items she saw. A high-necked
blue sweater and navy slacks, almost exactly like the dark
green outfit Ava was wearing. “This’ll be great. Are you
sure…?” She gave Ava a questioning look.
“Well…” Ava reached into the suitcase and a removed a
red crewneck sweater and matching slacks. “How about
these? I’ll bet red’s your color.”
“It is.” Judith smiled. “Thanks a lot.”
“Don’t worry about returning them right away.” Ava’s
strong, handsome features seemed to radiate good will.
“I’ll probably be seeing your cousin at corporate headquarters
in a week or two.”
Judith grabbed the garments and headed for the laundry
room to dress. She had just slipped into her own boots when
Renie joined her.
“Nadia’s stuff is going to be a squeeze,” Renie said, shaking
out a gray cashmere sweater that had been carefully wrapped
in tissue paper. “But Margo’s too thin and Andrea’s too
plump. It was Nadia or nobody, unless I wanted to wear
one of Russell Craven’s soup-stained suits.”
“Let’s go back,” Judith said abruptly.
“Back? Back where?” Renie’s head poked through the
sweater’s mock turtleneck. “We can’t go home until you’ve
set up the buffet.”
