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and in large amounts. It never ceased to amaze Judith how

her cousin could consume so much food and stay slim. Metabolism, Judith told herself, and envied Renie’s gene pool.

All her life, Judith had fought to keep weight off, and only

now, in her fifties, did she feel comfortable with a couple of

extra pounds on her tall, statuesque figure.

“Do you feel okay?” Judith finally asked.

“Yes. Yes, I feel fine.” Renie sounded cross. “It’s going on

eleven. I’ve got to get organized. Good luck.” She disappeared from sight.

Judith didn’t have time to worry about her cousin’s sudden

lack of appetite. For the next hour, she immersed herself in

making crepes, dicing ham, rolling out puff pastry, and cutting up fruit. It was a joy to work under such splendid conditions, and best of all, with no interruptions from guests,

the telephone, or her mother.

The bus arrived at ten to twelve. Judith didn’t hear it pull

in, but Renie came to alert her. “It’s actually a big van,” she

told Judith from the doorway. “The driver won’t stay, of

course. He’s already headed back to the city.”

Judith, who was in the middle of fashioning her puff

20 / Mary Daheim

pastries, merely nodded. “Lunch at twelve-thirty, right?”

“Right.” Renie left again.

The lodge’s staff had already set up a large round table

for ten in the dining room. Judith checked the table settings,

admired the centerpiece of yellow gladioli, purple freesia and

white lilies, then returned to the kitchen. She was filling the

industrial-size coffeemaker when a small woman with big

glasses and a platinum blonde pageboy entered the kitchen.

“Are we on schedule?” the woman asked, tapping a huge

wristwatch that looked as if it could weigh down her arm.

“We are,” Judith replied with a smile. “My name’s Judith

Flynn.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and reached out to

the other woman.

“Nadia Weiss, administrative assistant,” Nadia replied with

a faint New York accent. She didn’t budge, let alone shake

hands. “If you have any problems, come to me.” With a swish

of cashmere skirts, she departed.

Judith uttered a self-conscious little laugh and went back

to work. Two minutes later, another woman appeared in the

doorway. “You must be the caterer,” she said.

Judith looked up from the crepe pan she was heating on

the stove. A slim, plain woman of Chinese ancestry fixed

mesmerizing dark eyes on Judith. “Yes,” she gulped. “I’m

Judith Flynn.”

“The caterer,” the other woman said in a tone that indicated

Judith wasn’t a person, she was merely a service. “My name’s

Margo Chang. If a Ms. Weiss contacts you, ignore her. I’m

the vice president in charge of public relations, and I handle

jobbers like you.”

Judith imagined that a small smirk tugged at Margo’s tight,

thin mouth. “Okay,” Judith said, still subdued. “If I need

anything, I’ll ask you.”

“You shouldn’t need anything. You should have come

prepared.” Margo’s voice dropped a notch in what sounded

to Judith like a threat.

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 21

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” Judith said hastily.

Margo gave a curt nod and left. Judith’s wide shoulders

relaxed. She stiffened again when she heard someone else

enter the kitchen. To her relief, it was Renie.

“Thank heavens!” Judith cried. “I’ve just been visited by

two of the three witches.”

“Which ones?” Renie asked. “By my count there’re four.”

Judith winced. “Are all the women who work for this outfit

like Ms. Weiss and Ms. Chang?”

Renie’s round face grew thoughtful. “I’m not sure. By

chance, I’ve dealt mostly with those two. You have to realize,

coz, that I don’t know most of these people very well myself.

I’ve only done a handful of smaller projects until now.”

“But you’ve actually worked with the ones I just met?” Judith was aghast.

Renie nodded as she surveyed her cousin’s handiwork in

the kitchen. “I’m used to it. You have to remember that all

these executive types must be fairly tough to get to the top.

The women have to be even tougher.”

Judith, who was slicing kiwi, looked a bit puzzled. “But

Whatshername—Weiss, right?—isn’t a vice president or an

officer. Or is she?”

“That’s the problem,” Renie said, leaning against the

marble countertop. “She feels she should be. As administrative assistant, she wields a lot of power, but she doesn’t get

the same perks or the big salary. In the last few years that

I’ve dealt with Nadia and the p.r. v.p., Margo, I haven’t seen

any love lost between them. Nor with Andrea and Ava, if it

comes to that.”

“Andrea and Ava? They sound like a dance team.” Judith

tried to visualize the list Renie had given her. “Which ones

are they?”

Renie smiled indulgently. “Ava Aunuu is vice president–information technology services. Andrea Piccoloni-Roth is vice

president–human resources, which used to be

22 / Mary Daheim

known as personnel. I’ve never understood the name change

in a world that keeps dehumanizing people.”

A quick glance at the digital clock on the stainless-steel

range told Judith that it was 12:25. “I’d better start serving

the food. When are you going to eat?”

Renie shrugged. “Later. I don’t like to make presentations

on a full stomach.”

Judith started to say, since when? , thought better of it, and

began dishing the fresh fruit onto heavy brown earthenware

plates. “I’m surprised they didn’t ask for a buffet.”

“Everything else will be buffet,” Renie said, rummaging in

her big purse. “Since you’re here only for one meal, they

decided they’d like it to be a sit-down event.” Renie took out

a package of cigarettes and lighted up.

“Coz!” Judith almost dropped a crepe. “What are you do-

ing?”

“Smoking,” Renie responded through a thin haze.

“You don’t smoke! You haven’t smoked since we went to

Europe where we had to smoke!”

“Well, I’m smoking now.” Renie sounded unnaturally

calm. She exhaled a large blue puff.

Judith was flabbergasted. She herself had quit smoking

almost ten year earlier, and had never quite gotten over her

desire to start again. Renie, however, was another matter:

She had been what Judith called a party smoker, enjoying

cigarettes only when accompanied by reasonable amounts

of adult beverages and loud decibels of rock ’n roll.

But there was no time to discuss her cousin’s newly acquired vice. “I could use some help with these plates,” Judith

said, picking up two of them.

“Can’t.” Renie puffed some more. “It’d ruin my image.”

“Very funny,” Judith said, heading for the dining room.

“Hold the plates steady. I don’t want to screw up the

presentation.”

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 23

“I’m not kidding,” Renie called after her. “I can’t help you.”

Judith stopped at the door and turned to look at her

cousin. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’m serious.” Renie had put on what Judith referred to as

her cousin’s boardroom face. “I can’t be a waitress one