Outside the sprawl of Lake View Lodge’s interlocking modern buildings with their rustic touches, the front parking lot had its first several rows filled, despite off-season. In the next row with open spaces, Krista pulled into one and her father found another a few spots away.
She waited for him and they paused for a moment. He gestured around.
“Mostly local plates,” he said.
“I’d be surprised if any of my classmates hadn’t returned for the brunch,” she said. “Anybody from our class just has to show up for a complimentary breakfast.”
“That’s a break for us.”
As they headed for the main lodge building, Booker came ambling out and met them as they stepped up onto the outer walk.
“I told everybody they can’t leave,” Booker said. “They don’t seem happy, but the free food helps.”
“Yeah,” her father said, “but what happens when breakfast is over?”
Booker spread his hands wide. “Well, it’s not over yet. And I’m about to serve myself up. Our host says to help ourselves, and I grabbed us a table.”
Krista and her dad shrugged at each other. She didn’t have any appetite that she’d noticed and Pop didn’t seem very interested, either. But this day had already been long and fueling up wasn’t a bad idea.
They went in the front way this time, the lobby seeming almost as sprawling as the lodge itself, with some business offices to the left and right as they entered, the front desk up ahead with very modern furnishings scattered among lodge-like trappings, including a sitting area complete with stone fireplace.
David Landry materialized from somewhere, his attire like the lobby, half-modern, half-rustic — a stylish olive jacket, fat-knotted dark green tie, but a V-neck brown nubby sweater, fashionably worn-out jeans, and cowboy boots with (as usual with David) uplifting heels.
The resort manager came over quickly and shook first her hand and then her father’s. David and Booker nodded at each other; they’d already been consulting, about breakfast anyway.
“Now can you tell me,” David said, perhaps a shade of irritation in his voice, “what exactly is going on?”
“Astrid Lund,” Krista said, “was murdered last night. At her parents’ home after the reunion. It was a brutal crime and we’re dealing with an unknown party who is dangerously violent.”
David’s mouth had dropped open and his eyes were almost comically wide; the blood had drained from his face. He was not likely to surprise easily, she supposed, considering the kinds of things he faced in his job. But this was a rather special circumstance, wasn’t it?
“My God,” he said. “Oh my God. She was so...”
“She was a lovely girl,” Krista’s father said. “We thank you for what you’ve already done. But we need more.”
“Any way I can help,” David said, “you’ve got it.”
Krista asked, “You wouldn’t happen to remember when Astrid left the reunion?”
“I do, actually. The band was just starting a break and I glanced at my watch as Astrid was making a few goodbyes near the door. Right around ten thirty.”
Not long after she and her father had left.
Krista gestured toward the connecting hallway to the convention center. “Let’s walk and talk. The sooner I can get in front of our...” She almost said “suspects,” then considered “witnesses,” before finally settling on: “... classmates, the better.”
They walked, David between her and her father, Booker bringing up the rear.
Krista said, “We’ll need access to your security-cam footage.”
“Anything you need,” David said.
Her father asked, “Where are your cameras?”
“We have one that captures perhaps the front third of the parking lot, another on the entrance. All of the halls are monitored. Front desk. Indoor pool.”
“How about the side parking lots?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Anything on the various sides of the building?”
“Just the entrance, I’m afraid.”
Krista said, “What you do have will be helpful. As I recall, your bar closes at one a.m., right?”
“Normally. But with the reunion, we extended to two.”
That was another nice break. Her dad had told her the time of death — though hardly official — was around midnight. And by tomorrow they’d have something more definitive from the coroner.
Krista said, “We’ll need all the bar receipts that were charged to rooms. I assume your generosity didn’t extend to giving everybody free bar tabs?”
David let out a little laugh. “No. We lowered our room rates rock bottom, but we required credit cards at check-in, for incidentals, as usual. We provided food and entertainment last night, and the breakfast buffet today. But as you’ll recall, that was not an open bar last night, and this morning we’ve taken orders for mimosas, Irish coffees, Bloody Marys, and champagne cocktails.”
Behind them, Booker said, “You’re makin’ me thirsty, Mr. Landry.”
Krista smiled back at him. “Too bad you’re on duty.”
David brushed back dark hair that didn’t need it. “How long do you think you’ll be wanting the out-of-town guests to stay around?”
“With luck,” Krista said, “we’ll be able to thin this group considerably by tomorrow some time.”
“So just one night.”
“Yes. Except for any who might become persons of interest.”
“Suspects you mean?”
“Not necessarily. We just have some checking to do before we can clear them.”
Her father said, “And some won’t be completely out of the woods. We’ll have to make sure they know — if they go back to their homes elsewhere in the state, or out of state — that they may still be hearing from us.”
“I can tell you right now,” David said, “that a few people who were here last night did not come to the brunch.”
Krista asked, “Do you know specifically who that might be?”
“Oh, yes. The free brunch was offered only to our GHS 2009 classmates and significant others. For nonclassmates, it was only ten dollars. But the handful who weren’t in our class mostly took a pass — the table of teachers, for instance.”
Her father shrugged and said, “They’re all local. Easy enough to find.”
“As I mentioned,” Krista said, “this is a thinning process.”
David nodded as they walked along the sun-flooded hall with its wall of windows at left. “Is there anything in the city budget to allow for lodging these, uh, persons who may prove to be of interest?”
That locution made Pop smile. “No, Mr. Landry,” he said, “I don’t believe there is. Your out-of-town guests are a captive audience for us and the lodge.”
David was frowning in thought. “Look, we’ll comp them for a few days, if need be. It’s off-season. Maybe that’ll help you out some.”
“That would be great, David,” Krista said.
Behind them, Booker said, “You got a spare whirlpool room I could use? Just so I got somewhere to work out of.”
Krista looked back at him, amused. “We only have your services for today, Sergeant, as I recall. Your court date tomorrow?”
“Earliest I’ll testify is afternoon. Maybe I can help tomorrow morning. Lotta folks to sort through.”
Krista told the resort manager, “Sergeant Jackson will be sleeping at home tonight, David. He’s just kidding.”
On the square.
David’s forehead frowned though his mouth smiled a little. “Well, I’m sincere about the offer — for extending stays and comping anybody you need access to.”
Her father said, “Very generous, Mr. Landry. I think we can move this along quick enough to not wear out our welcome.”
They were just outside the banquet hall now.