Snow Place to Die : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

slightly wistful.

Joe didn’t reply. He has thought about it. Plenty. Why hasn’t

he mentioned it to me? Judith felt betrayed.

Maybe this wasn’t the time to discuss the three grand for

the OTIOSE conference. Maybe Judith should start building

her own little nest egg. Certainly she wasn’t prepared to give

up the B&B. She’d worked too hard to turn it into a successful venture.

“Did you hear me say I’ll be gone most of Friday?” she

asked, spooning green beans onto a plate for Gertrude. “I’m

catering a phone company conference for Renie.”

Joe had picked up the evening paper and was reading the

sports page. “Since when did Renie go to work for the phone

company?”

“She’s freelancing, as usual.” Judith was getting exasperated.

“Bill’s retiring next year.” Joe turned a page of the newspaper.

“What? ” Judith gaped at her husband.

He nodded, but didn’t look up. “Thirty-one years in the

university system. Why shouldn’t he?”

“Renie hasn’t said a thing!” Now Judith’s annoyance spread

to her cousin.

“Maybe Bill hasn’t told Renie. Where the hell is the Hot

Stove League news? I heard there was a big trade brewing.”

Joe riffled the pages, in search of baseball reports.

“Bill wouldn’t not tell Renie,” Judith seethed. “Bill and

Renie communicate.”

“Maybe she forgot to mention it to you. Ah, here we are…”

Joe disappeared behind the paper.

Judith marched out to the toolshed with Gertrude’s dinner.

For once, she put the covered plate outside the door, knocked

twice, and raced back to the house. Gertrude hated mussels.

Judith wasn’t in a mood to hear her mother gripe. Judith, in

fact, was feeling mutinous. Joe wasn’t usually secretive, especially not when it came to making decisions

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 11

that affected them as a couple. And Renie always told Judith

everything. The cousins were as close as sisters, maybe closer,

because they hadn’t been forced to grow up under the same

roof. Judith felt like slugging Joe, shaking Renie, and giving

Bill a boot just for the hell of it.

Judith would never admit it, but she was in the mood for

murder.

TWO

FRIDAY DAWNED COLD and cloudy. Renie was driving the

Jones’s big blue Chev, which was fitted with snow tires, and

carried chains in the trunk. The cousins set out at nine on

the dot, heading east toward the mountain pass that was

located about an hour outside of the city.

“I made a list,” Renie said, patting an envelope that lay on

the seat between them. “It’s on top. Take it out and go over

the names. When—and if—I introduce you, it won’t be so