deliberate care bunk.”
Gene uttered a heavy sigh. “We can do one of two things.
We can all keep our mouths shut and not discuss what’s
happened today. That’s what I’d advise. Or,” he went on,
with a sardonic look for Killegrew, “we can start asking each
other a lot of embarrassing questions and try to get to the
bottom of this. If we do that—and again, I’m not advising
it from a legal standpoint—we might at least get our stories
straight before we have to answer to the authorities.”
Nadia, who had been mixing Russell Craven a rum and
Coca-Cola, stared at Gene. “Are you suggesting that we lie?”
“Of course not.” Gene’s dark-skinned forehead creased.
“I’m saying we pool our knowledge—such as it is—so that
we don’t end up looking like babbling idiots when we finally
talk to outsiders.”
Killegrew gave a brief nod. “That makes sense. Okay,
Gene, you’re in charge.”
Max and Ward returned at that moment. They had removed Leon Mooney, not to the basement, but to a room
on the third floor. “More homeylike,” Ward said. Andrea
began to weep again.
After Killegrew had filled Max and Ward in on Gene’s alternative plan, Judith noted that the mood shifted. The group
was getting down to business, a grisly business perhaps, but
they were tackling it in a style they understood. Despite the
bathrobes and slippers and cocktails and subject matter, the
OTIOSE executives were taking a meeting, and the atmosphere seemed to relax. Even Andrea dried her eyes and reasserted her iron grip.
Judith poked Renie. “We’re still here,” she whispered.
“How come?”
Renie gave a little shrug and a shake of her head, but said
nothing. It didn’t take long for the question to be answered.
Gene Jarman, who had traded places with Frank Killegrew,
addressed the cousins. “It’s unfortunate that the two of you
had to be present during such a tragic time for OTIOSE,” he
said gravely. “But we can’t change that, and what’s even
more unfortunate, is that you both seemed to have played
big parts in that you found the bodies. We’d better start by
going over what happened this afternoon and now tonight.
Nadia, would you take notes, please?”
Nadia picked up a notebook and a pen from the coffee
table, then slipped her glasses from her bathrobe pocket.
“I’m ready,” she said through pursed lips.
“Good.” Gene turned back to Judith and Renie. “One word
of caution—you must never speak of what went on in this
room tonight. If you do, the gravest of consequences will
follow.”
Given what had already happened at Mountain Goat
Lodge, Judith could guess that such consequences might be
fatal.
