'Hang on a minute.' John disappeared into the back and reappeared with the hat. He set it on the counter carefully, avoiding touching the bloody spot inside. 'Take a look at this, Myles.'
'Swell,' said Quill. 'Myles? Where are you going? You haven't finished your rabbit.'
Myles stood up. His face was calm. 'What you just told me about Santini being missing? It doesn't make sense. Tutti McIntosh was funding this whole R. O. A. R campaign. It was designed to put the senator back into his seat in four years. Al struck me as the sort of person who'd marry the devil herself for gain.'
'Thanks for the pronoun,' Quill grumbled. 'So what do you think? Why else would Al skip out on his wedding?'
'We need Doreen,' said Myles. 'And that dog. There's hair, blood, and bone on the inside of that hat. And neither of our corpses had a head wound.'
Quill's winter clothes were still damp from the day before. She drew on the snow pants, the ski jacket, and the knitted hat with a shiver. Doreen stamped impatiently outside the kitchen door. Her winter gear consisted of a leather flight jacket (courtesy of a former husband), several sweaters, stocking cap, and flannel lined jeans. For some reason, she'd stuffed Tatiana into a baby's sweater. The little dog pranced in the snow with more than its usual arrogance.
'She actually looks pretty chic,' Meg muttered in Quill's ear. 'You going to be warm enough?'
'I think so.'
'Be careful. You, too, John.'
Meg stood at the door until they reached the maintenance building. Quill turned and waved.
They set off on foot down the circular drive to the Inn and into the park near the Gorge. It was going to snow again, and soon. Clouds drifted past the moon like passing sailboats.
John walked with his head down, hands thrust in his pockets. Quill walked next to Myles, skipping occasionally to keep up with his long strides. Doreen zigzagged back and forth, once in a while throwing a snowball for the dog.
Tatiana was the happiest of the group.
'Right about here, sheriff.' Doreen took a sharp left and plunged into a grove of pine. The way was narrow here, the paths clogged with snow. Quill grabbed on to the back of Myles's anorak to help her keep to her feet.
The dog stopped. Raised its head. Sniffed. Broke into shrill barks and leaped forward, plunging through the drifts. John broke into a run. So did Myles. Doreen and Quill trudged along behind.
'I smell smoke,' said Quill.
'S. O. A. P.' Doreen said briefly. 'They cooked that durn cow here last night. You shoulda seen it.'
'Did you see it?'
Doreen turned her head in the dark. The whites of her eyes gleamed. She said with a chuckle, 'Me'n Marge? We follered that Elmer and Harland last night. You shoulda seen them guys. Half of `em buck nekkid `ceptin' that bozo Blight. He's too smart to jump around in a gol-durned blizzard with no clothes on. But there they all was, jumping and hollering around this big old fire, with this big old steer carcass a-turnin' and a-turnin' over the fir eon this here spit.'
Which was there they found the body of Alphonse Santini, turning slowly over a dying fire, under the moonlit sky.
-12-
'Thank the good Lord he wasn't skewered,' said Doreen. She and Quill stood huddled together under the pine tree. It was cold and getting colder, but Quill would have had to be nearly comatose with the chill to approach the slow-burning fire. Myles and John kicked the slow coals away from the body. The remnants glowed like wolf eyes in the dark.
Myles squatted and examined the ropes that bound Santini. John knelt in the snow beside him. 'You can see where the dogs' scurried in the snow,' said John. 'Here and here. Do you think it was the head wound that killed him?'
'Most likely. Two shots behind the right ear. But I've been wrong before.' He lowered his head in thought. Then, 'Quill?'
'We're over here.'
'You saw the videotape of Nora's murder what, once?'
'That's right.'
'Think about it. Think hard about it. Pretend that you're going to paint the scene.'
Quill edged nearer. Doreen bent and picked up Tatiana, who was for once silent. Quill closed her eyes.
'Anything you can remember about the figure in your coat and hat. The least thing, Quill.'
'It was a man, I'm sure of that. His arms were longer than my sleeves. And he was my height, because the coat hit his leg where it hits mine.'
'About five eight, then,' Myles said to John. 'Any idea of weight, Quill?'
Quill shook her head.
'Anything else?'
Quill went over the videotape in her mind. Nora getting out of the car. Nora falling, her hands outstretched, her fingers spread in a final gesture of death....
'Dorset. Dorset did it, too!' she exclaimed. 'That must have been how he knew.'
