in angel food cake?”
“I thought he was hit on the head,” put in Russell, who
again fingered his own skull and winced.
“Afraid so,” Ward mumbled. “It’s a nasty business, all
right.”
“The point is,” Killegrew said between mouthfuls of fried
egg, “we might as well carry on. We can’t leave, and there
are plenty of items left on our agenda. As long as the cabin’s
still airtight, we can fly.”
“You’re right, Frank,” Ward agreed. “Besides, it’ll keep our
minds off…this other stuff.” The second-in-command lowered
his eyes to his breakfast plate.
Judith, who was reaching between Nadia and Gene to set
a coffee carafe on the table, summoned up her courage.
“Excuse me. I have a small announcement.”
All eyes veered in her direction. To her acute embarrassment, she blushed. “Someone took Barry’s items out of my
handbag last night.”
“Cripes!” exclaimed Ward.
“Oh no!” cried Nadia.
“Ridiculous,” murmured Gene.
“That does it!” Margo threw down her napkin and stood
up. “Isn’t there some way we can get help? This is a nightmare!”
“Now, now,” Killegrew said, though he sounded shaken.
“Has anybody tried the phone this morning?”
“I did,” Judith responded. “It still doesn’t work.”
Max Agasias sat far back in his chair, balancing his burly
body in what struck Judith as a precarious position. “You
see? What do we tell our customers? Go cellular, go wireless—and never leave home without it. I guess only OTIOSE
people are too damned dumb to take marketing’s advice.”
Margo, who was pacing back and forth in front of the
buffet, swung around. “Well? Did you bring your cell phone,
Max? Did you take your own bright-eyed advice?”
Max locked his hands behind his head and grinned.
“Hell, no. I followed Frank’s orders here, like a good little
Nazi.”
Russell Craven was shaking his head. “My, my. No cell
phones, no laptops, no pagers, no…” He stopped and looked
somewhat diffidently at Killegrew. “Wouldn’t you think,”
Russell said quietly, “that there would be a battery-powered
two-way radio around this lodge?”
“Dubious,” Max responded dryly. “Why would they need
it? We sell complete communications systems, and oldfashioned battery-driven radios are dinosaurs.”
“We could look,” Gene put in. “They might have one stored
in the basement.”
“It’s an idea,” Killegrew allowed, though he, too, sounded
dubious.
