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over, Frank. You’re cooked.”

“Uh-uh.” Killegrew swung his head from side to side, and

suddenly he looked quite sober. It dawned on Judith

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 269

that maybe the wily CEO hadn’t been drunk in the first place.

You’re cooked,” Killegrew roared, raising the slide rule and

starting to bring it down on Judith’s head.

Judith ducked, feeling the slide rule cut into the air above

her. Killegrew was a big, powerful man in more ways than

one. Judith knew she couldn’t elude him for very long. Where

were the park rangers?

“Coz!” she yelled as Killegrew swung again and she felt

her hair being ruffled.

The door burst open. Two national park service rangers

stood on the threshold, their weapons drawn. Killegrew

turned around, then dropped the slide rule. “Thank God!”

he shouted. “This woman was trying to kill me!”

“Let’s all calm down,” said the older and taller of the

rangers. “What’s going on here?”

Killegrew moved swiftly to the two men, putting a hand

on each of their shoulders. “Frank Killegrew, president and

CEO of OTIOSE. By God, I’m glad to see you! This woman

is a crazed customer who thinks that Martians have invaded

her telephone system. It happens all the time. Take her away,

boys!”

The taller officer, whose name tag read “R. Westervelt,”

stared at Judith. “Who are you?” Westervelt asked.

“Judith Flynn, the caterer. But I…”

“The caterer!” Killegrew roared with laughter. “You

see—these people will use any excuse to come after the phone

company! My God, we’ve been a target of every crank and

crackpot for years! If your life is all screwed up and you’re

playing with a half a deck, go after the phone company! It’s

an easy target, we’re under government scrutiny! Would you

like to see our nut file? It’s full of people like her!”

Westervelt turned to his partner, a square-built young man

with crinkly red hair. “Nunnally, we’ve got a situation.”

Nunnally nodded. “Didn’t somebody mention bodies?”

270 / Mary Daheim

Returning his gun to its holster, Westervelt looked at Judith. “On the phone, someone referred to possible homicides.

Where are the victims?”

“All over the…” Judith began, but was interrupted by Killegrew.

“Victims? Now, now,” he bellowed, shaking a finger at

Judith who was trying to peer into the hall in hopes of

catching sight of Renie, “that’s an exaggeration, isn’t it?

We’ve had a couple of nasty accidents. Look, fellows,” he

continued, putting an arm around each of the officers, “you

don’t have to get mixed up in this. I’ve already got a call in

to the chief of police in town. He’s flying back from Hawaii,

and he’ll get everything straightened out. We may be on

your turf, but it isn’t really your responsibility. Why make

trouble for yourselves? Eh?” He gave each of the officers a

nudge.

“Well…” Westervelt looked again at Nunnally. “This is

our jurisdiction.”

“So?” Killegrew seemed amused. “You’re in the business

of stolen skis and drunken picnickers and people who pick

wildflowers and attacks by bad-tempered bears. This is phone

company business, big city stuff, and we’ll sort it out with

the chief.” Killegrew winked. “He’s a pal—know what I

mean?”

Westervelt’s long face was a mask of uncertainty.

“That’s…fine, but we still need to check out any complaints…”

“Complaints!” Killegrew threw his head back and roared

with laughter. “That’s it! Complaints! You can’t get half as

many as I do! See here, fellows, we’ll turn this poor soul

over to our p.r. vice president and get everything squared

away. Ms. Chang knows how to handle these people. Now

how about coming down to the lobby and having an adult

beverage or two?”

Westervelt cleared his throat. “Well…sorry, we can’t do

that, sir. We’re on duty. But maybe we should talk to the

others.”

SNOW PLACE TO DIE / 271

Killegrew slapped Westervelt on the back. “Good idea!

They’ll set you straight.” Halfway to the door he stopped

and turned back to Judith. “What about her? Shouldn’t you

arrest her now before she does something really dangerous?”

The officers exchanged dubious glances. “Well…” Westervelt scratched an ear. “We really should search the lodge

in case the homicide story is true. Meanwhile, are you

pressing charges against this woman, sir?”

“You bet!” Killegrew snapped his fingers. “Assault, attempted murder, whatever it takes! My God, I’m lucky to be

alive!”

Judith bridled. “Wait a minute! This is absurd! He’s the

one who tried to attack me! He’s the one who murdered four

people and caused the death of another one! He’s a maniac,

a psychotic, a man without a conscience!” Frantically, Judith

tried to look out into the hall. Where the hell was Renie?

Killegrew was chuckling indulgently. “You see? She’s raving. They always do. Come on fellows, let’s put this plane

in the hangar. Haul her away, and we’ll keep in touch.”

Killegrew started to leave the room, but Westervelt detained him. “Sir,” Westervelt said in a deferential tone, “hold

on just a minute. We have two other rangers downstairs.

Let’s wait here for them. They can take the prisoner to our

vehicle.”

The CEO rocked impatiently on his heels, the slide rule

protruding from his back pocket. “What?” Killegrew frowned.

“Oh, yes, why not? If there’s been any trouble around here,

she caused it.”

“Shall I cuff her?” Nunnally asked, reaching for his belt

where a pair of handcuffs dangled.

“Well…Okay, that sounds right.” Westervelt gave an ambiguous nod.

“Hey!” Judith put both hands behind her back and re- 272 / Mary Daheim

treated to the window. “This is a terrible mistake! How can

you believe him and not me?”

The officers again looked at each other, but it was Killegrew who spoke. “Because you’re nobody. And I’m OTIOSE!”

“Well…He’s right, you know,” Westervelt said to Judith.

“Mr. Killegrew is a well-known businessman. I’ve even seen

him on TV.”

“You’re darn tootin’,” Killegrew said. “Come on, come on,

let’s get going.”

“But…” Judith felt miserable, frustrated, depleted. Was it

really impossible to combat Frank Killegrew’s corporate

reputation and civic image? Was he actually above the law?

Was Judith really a nobody?

Though Nunnally looked vaguely apologetic, he grasped

Judith by the forearms and forced her to turn around. She

flinched, hearing the click of the handcuffs. But before the

officer could lock them in place, she heard an unexpected,

yet familiar voice call to her.

“Mom!”

“Mike!” Surprise and shock made Judith limp. She gaped

at her son, then turned to the others. “You see?” she said in

a voice that shook with emotion. “I am somebody after all.

I’m his mother.”

Renie, who had been hiding Margo’s gun under a dishtowel to prevent the rightful owner from attacking her, was