Mary Daheim - Snow Place to Die : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery
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MARY DAHEIM
Snow
Place
To
Die
A BED-AND-BREAKFAST MYSTERY
In memory of Katharine Dawson Marshall, the last of
the Dawson clan to enter eternal life on January 30,
1998, joining Monica Richardson Dawson, Louis
Dawson, Frances Dawson Webster, Thomas Dawson,
and Helen Dawson Shelley. We will always love you.
CONTENTS
ONE
JUDITH MCMONIGLE FLYNN stacked twenty-four
pancakes on a platter, grabbed
1
TWO
FRIDAY DAWNED COLD and cloudy. Renie was
driving the Joness
12
THREE
AS SHED PREDICTED, Renies presentation went
well. There were the
29
FOUR
IT WAS ONE of those things you see, but you
45
FIVE
A FEW MINUTES before eight, the cousins went
downstairs to
61
SIX
NEITHER JUDITH NOR Renie screamed. Instead,
they held onto each
77
SEVEN
IT WAS ALMOST midnight before Judith and Renie
finished recounting
90
EIGHT
IN THE STRAINED atmosphere of the kitchen,
Judith felt the
105
NINE
AVA BURIED HER face against Genes shoulder.
Max half-carried Nadia
114
TEN
HE PASSED OUT upstairs, Max announced in a
tense voice.
129
ELEVEN
MAX AND WARD had decided to go out through
the
145
TWELVE
EVERYBODY SCREAMED. GENE spilled his drink
on the Navajo rug,
161
THIRTEEN
AFTER THE GAME hens and the bean dish had
been
176
FOURTEEN
UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, it was natural for
everyone to assume
193
FIFTEEN
WHO ELSE WAS in the corridor last night? Judith
asked
206
SIXTEEN
THISCANTBEhappening, Judith gasped. 221
SEVENTEEN
JUDITH AND RENIE both started to protest,
meanwhile backpedaling across
233
EIGHTEEN
246
JUDITH AND RENIE flattened themselves against
the wall, hopefully out
NINETEEN
FRANK KILLEGREW WAS sulking. Shalmost shix,
he mumbled. Who drinksh
266
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS BY MARY DAHEIM
COVER
COPYRIGHT
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
ONE
JUDITH MCMONIGLE FLYNN stacked twenty-four pancakes
on a platter, grabbed the syrup pitcher, and opened the
swinging door with her hip. Just behind her, the kitchen
phone rang.
Damn! Judith cursed under her breath, then sheepishly
smiled at the eight hungry, curious faces seated around the
old oak dining room table. The phone kept ringing. Sorry,
Judith apologized, as she set the pancakes and syrup on the
table, I dont usually get calls this early unless theyre reservations from the East Coast.
The bed and breakfast guests made various incomprehensible sounds, then began dishing up pancakes. Judith returned
to the kitchen just as the phone trunked over to the answering
machine. After delivering bacon, eggs, and extra butter, she
checked the message.
I know youre there, you twit! Cousin Renies voice had
an early-morning croak. Call me! Quick!
It was 7:36. Judiths cousin never, ever got out of bed before nine and almost never achieved full consciousness until
ten. Apprehensively, Judith dialed Renies number.
Are you okay? Judith asked in a breathless voice.
Im terrible, Renie replied crossly. Im up the creek, in
the soup, down the toilet.
1
2 / Mary Daheim
The exaggerated response relieved Judiths mind. If Renie
had been held hostage or was lying at the bottom of her
basement stairs, she wouldnt describe her plight so vividly.
Judith poured a mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen
table. So whats really wrong? she asked, more intrigued
than alarmed.
A big sigh rolled over the phone line from the other side
of Heraldsgate Hill. Its the OTIOSE conferenceyou know,
the Overland Telecommunications and Information Organization of Systems Engineers.
Its called OTIOSE for short? Judith asked in surprise.
Do they know what it means?
Of course not. Theyre engineers. Anyway, Renie went
on, still sounding vexed, they used to be part of the local
phone company before the Bell System got broken up by the
Justice Department. Remember I told you I was putting together a really big graphic design presentation for their annual winter retreat? Im redoing their logo, their colors,
everything right down to the cheap pens they hand out to
lucky customers and members of their board. But theres a
problemthe caterer backed out at the last minute and
theyve asked me to find a sub.
So? There are a zillion caterers in the Yellow Pages. If
theyre telephone company people, why cant they let their
fingers do the walking?
Because they are telephone company people. Their brains
arent attached to their fingers. Plus, these are the top executives. Theyre not used to doing things for themselves.
Renie was clearly exasperated. Anyway, I opened my big
mouth and told them I knew a topnotch caterer. Believe it
or not, I was referring to you. What do you say?
Ohhh Judith set her mug down with a thud and
splashed coffee onto the plastic table cover. Running a B&B
was hard enough, especially with the holidays so recently
behind her. Of late shed been trying to phase out the catering arm of her business. For several years it had
SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 3
been a joint venture with Judiths friend and neighbor, Arlene
Rankers. Her husband, Carl, had retired two years earlier,
and their family of five had expanded. The quiet leisure years
theyd anticipated had turned into a merry-go-round of
grandchildren crawling around in the laurel hedge that separated the Rankers and Flynn properties. Arlene no longer
had the time or the energy to help run a full-scale catering
service, and Judith couldnt do it without her.
I really dont think I can manage on such short notice,
Judith said at last. Isnt the retreat this weekend?
Right, over the three-day Martin Luther King holiday.
Renie paused. Itd be for only a day, actually. All you have
to do is set up the first meal on Friday, then stock the fridge
and freezer and whatever. The rest of the weekend is
More coffee please, came a request from the dining room.
Do you have powdered sugar? called another guest.
Theres something gruesome crawling around under the
table, complained a third, rather frantic voice.
Judith hadnt heard the last part of Renies explanation.
Coz, Ill get back to you in half an hour, she said, feeling
a touch of panic.
The coffee and powdered sugar were delivered, then Judith
dove under the big oak table to retrieve her cat, Sweetums.
The cat arched his back, hissed, and began rubbing against
the sheer stockings on a pair of rather hefty legs.
Eeek! cried a voice somewhere over Judiths head. My
hose! Im being attacked by an animal! I feel fur and disgusting warmth!
What is it? inquired an anxious male voice. Not a porcupine, surely.
Judith grabbed Sweetums with both hands and dragged
him out from under the table. Sorry, she apologized again.
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