An Old Faithful Murder Page 2

  “Jed, that’s messy,” Susan protested, removing it and starting to roll it into a ball. “Why are you glad about the reunion?” she asked when she had neatly replaced the duffel.

  “If they’re with a large group, we won’t be together all the time. I was beginning to worry that we might become irrevocably tied to Joyce and Carlton.”

  “Don’t you like them?”

  “Joyce seems all right, but Carlton is rather dull, to be honest.”

  “Dull? But you and he walked so slowly around the geysers that the snowcoach had to wait for you!”

  “He walked slowly—as he told me all about the scientific research that he was doing in Paris.”

  “How inter—”

  “Don’t say it. He’s a biologist of some sort. He studies genetic traits in fruit flies—French fruit flies.”

  “Flench fluit …” Susan began to giggle and fell onto the bed. Jed joined her, and they spent a few moments together before Susan returned to the matter at hand.

  “I think we were lucky to run into them,” she insisted. “We’ll have more fun if the kids have friends of their own. Besides, we’ll be spending a lot of time with Kathleen and Jerry—as soon as we learn to ski and can keep up with them.”

  “I hope their new au pair is working out. They won’t have much fun on a ski trip if they have to drag the baby along,” Jed said.

  “It’s too cold outside for Bananas,” Susan answered, referring to Alexander Brandon Colin Gordon by the only name anyone used when speaking to, or about, the three-month-old. “And Kathleen said this girl came highly recommended by the family she worked for previously.” She got up and looked out the window. “Heavens, there’s Jon and … and I don’t remember the name of his girlfriend. They’re skiing already. I—”

  She was interrupted by loud banging on the door of their room. Jed opened it, and Chad and C.J. stood before him.

  “We’re going to the ski shack. We’ll meet you at dinner. Jon—he’s C.J.’s uncle—”

  “My uncle,” C.J. confirmed.

  “… he said he would give us ski lessons—”

  “You don’t have—” Jed began.

  “He said we could rent the skis and charge them to your room.” Chad answered the question he wouldn’t allow his father to ask.

  “All they need is your room number,” C.J. confirmed.

  “There’s more than an hour of daylight left, and you said we weren’t going to eat dinner until six, and I can meet you at the restaurant then—”

  “My father said yes.” C.J. added the finishing touch to their argument.

  “Okay, okay,” Jed said, laughing. “But be at the dining room at six p.m. exactly.”

  “With your hands and face washed,” Susan called out.

  “Okay. Don’t worry.” The boys turned and ran down the hall.

  “I wonder if he unpacked anything at all.”

  “You can check on that at dinner,” Jed assured her.

  “Well, at least I’m done,” she said, throwing a long cashmere scarf into a drawer and shoving it shut. “Whew. This clothing is sure bulky.” She turned to her husband. “How about a quick walk around the place?”

  “You really want to get back into heavy clothing?”

  “Why not? We have to go over to the main lodge for dinner, don’t we? And I’d like to see the Visitor’s Center—if it’s open.”

  Jed was already struggling into insulated hiking boots. “Do you have any idea exactly where the Visitor’s Center is?”

  “In front of Old Faithful,” she replied promptly. “I asked the ranger in the lobby when you were checking in.”

  “Ranger? You mean that pretty redhead you were talking with is a park ranger?” He pulled the laces tight.

  “Her name is Marnie Mackay. She did her undergraduate work at Cornell. She has a master’s in biology from UCLA, and she completed the program at the police academy in California before joining the Park Service. She was stationed in the Everglades for three years and came to Yellowstone two years ago. And yes, she is a ranger. She can be pretty and a ranger, you know.” Susan frowned at her husband. “Aren’t you ready yet?”

  “How do you get all your stuff on so quickly?” Susan was wearing dark green ski pants, a black parka, a green and white hat, and white ski gloves. Her scarf was red wool, and her hiking boots had green and red laces. “And how many stores did you have to visit to assemble that particular outfit?”

  She shrugged and opened the door. “Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “I’m ready, I’m ready!”

  “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?” Susan asked as the door to their building closed behind them. “Look how there are ski trails leading all directions.”

  “And look who’s coming.” Jed pointed to their daughter, who was walking toward them, Heather by her side.

  “You missed it!” Chrissy called out. “It was fantastic! All this steam and then ice crystals that made the most incredible noise as they hit the ground—like tiny pieces of shattered glass! It was fantastic! We couldn’t believe it, could we, Heather?”

  “Fantastic,” she agreed.

  “Missed what?” Jed asked.

  “Oh no,” Susan cried, catching on. “Old Faithful! We missed the eruption, didn’t we? And it won’t go off for another hour or so!”

  “No, and it will be dark by then. You and Daddy will just have to wait until morning.”

  “Did either of you happen to notice the Visitor’s Center over there?”

  “You can’t miss it, Daddy. It’s right in front of the geyser. We’ll meet you at the restaurant for dinner at six o’clock, okay?” Chrissy added, running off. “We ran into Chad, and he said that’s what he and C.J. are going to do.”

  “Fine,” Jed agreed, noticing that his left boot was untied and the lace was gathering a small snowball around it as he walked.

  “But where is the geyser?” Susan cried out.

  “Back there.” Heather turned and pointed. “You can’t miss it.”

  “You don’t know my parents,” Chrissy explained to her. “They can get lost anyplace. Once we were on the New York Thruway …”

  But Jed and Susan quickly moved out of hearing range.

  “Do you remember when our children thought we were perfect and hung on to every word we uttered?” he asked his wife.

  “No. You must be talking about some other family. I think Chad’s first words were ‘No one else’s parents make him do that,’ and Chrissy isn’t much better.” She looked around. “So where is this geyser?”

  “Right over there.” The answer came from the ski trail behind them. “That is, if it’s Old Faithful you’re looking for. But I’m afraid you just missed the big show.”

  “Actually, it’s the Visitor’s Center that we’re trying to find,” Jed explained to the two young men, one of whom had answered his question.

  “Keep going straight. You can’t miss it.” And they hurried off.

  “What attractive young men. The blond one looked just like a younger version of Jon. I wonder if he could be another Ericksen?”

  “Just how big is this family?” Jed asked. “You said that Carlton is the only married son.…”

  “Or daughter,” Susan added. “And I don’t think either of those young men are interested in marriage. Not if that affectionate look they exchanged means anything.

  “And have you noticed that they weren’t on skis either? Almost everyone else is. Look.” She pointed. “Even Chad—” She stopped as her son, picking up a ski pole to wave at them, fell over into a snowbank.

  THREE

  “He absolutely loves the snow. He giggles and pats it, and tries to crawl out of the arms of whoever is holding him so he can get right down into it. And guess what? He’s learned to take off his mittens!” The proud mother stopped bragging long enough to put a piece of prime rib into her mouth.

  “And how’s your au pair working out?” Susan asked. The Henshaws and the Gordons were eatin
g dinner together. Susan’s enjoyment of the meal was peppered by her amusement at Kathleen Gordon’s enthusiasm over her new son. Susan and Kathleen had known each other for almost four years since Kathleen had left the police force and married a widower in Hancock, Connecticut, where they all lived. The two women had solved several murders together before Kathleen got pregnant and presented her husband with a new heir.

  “She’s wonderful. She loves little Bananas, and he’s beginning to recognize her. Wait till you see him giggle.…”

  “We saw him just last weekend,” Jed reminded her.

  “But he’s changing so fast. You really won’t believe him,” Kathleen insisted. “You know, he’s starting infant swim classes when we get back to Connecticut.”

  Susan remembered the Kathleen she met years ago, a beautiful woman scornful of suburban wives and their families. Still beautiful, Kathleen had learned that there were some good things to be found in the suburbs. “That will be interesting.…”

  “Kath is disappointed that we can’t get Bananas on skis for a few years,” Jerry laughed, reaching across the table and patting his wife’s hand. Balding and middle-aged, he was an unlikely man to be paired with this beautiful blonde, but Susan knew it to be a very happy marriage.

  “You know, these days children are skiing as soon as they learn to walk. And Bananas is very advanced, so he might be skiing as early as next season,” Kathleen answered. She looked around the table. “You’re all laughing at me, aren’t you?” she asked her grinning friends.

  “We’re all very happy for you,” Susan answered. “And Bananas is lucky, too. Where is he, by the way? We looked around when we came in, but there was no sign of him or his keeper.”

  “Chloe has him up in her room. She convinced one of the waiters to bring her meals up there. That way she can keep Bananas happy while we eat, and eat dinner herself. I fed him right before we came down.”

  “You’re staying here in the lodge?” Jed asked.

  “Yes. We had rooms in the building you’re in, but once we arrived, I could see that it was going to be difficult to live if we had to bundle up Bananas every time we went to dinner—we thought he would be with us then. But the people at the desk were very understanding and they moved us when the situation was explained to them.”

  “Everyone here seems very helpful,” Jed agreed.

  “And Chloe has a way of making everyone more helpful than they might ordinarily be,” Jerry added.

  “Did you get Chloe through one of those agencies that specializes in importing au pairs?” Susan asked Kathleen.

  “Not exactly. The girl who was supposed to come to us was arranged by an agency in the city,” she explained, “but she decided to get married at the last minute. The agency was looking for a replacement when we got a letter from Chloe. She is a cousin of the girl we were expecting, and she wrote offering to come in her place. She has a relative who works for the embassy in Washington, so the visas and everything went through quickly. By the time the agency had found us another girl, we were already expecting Chloe.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “We sure were. There’s no way we could have taken a trip like this with a baby—unless one of us spent most of the time at the lodge while the other skied. And you know who that would be.”

  “You’re still nursing?” Susan asked.

  “Yes, although Bananas is very good about taking a bottle, so I get a break sometimes. But we can’t go on any all-day ski trips, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m wondering if I’ll even manage to stand up on skis,” Susan said. She knew that Kathleen had been skiing since high school.

  “You’ll be fine. Cross-country isn’t difficult. The scenery around here is fantastic. And it changes all the time. Every eruption of Old Faithful is different—and fascinating.”

  “I still haven’t seen one,” Susan admitted. “We’re taking our first lesson tomorrow. I really don’t know what to wear. Everyone seems to have those funny things around their ankles. I bought ski pants, but no one told me about them.”

  “They’re gaiters, and they will rent them to you with your skis—or you can buy them. I stopped in the ski shack once or twice. Don’t worry; they’re very organized. No one is going to let you go out on the trails without everything you need.

  “This is good, isn’t it?” Kathleen added, looking down at her almost empty plate. “The breakfasts here are wonderful. I’ve been consuming an awful lot of cholesterol, though. Granola tomorrow, I’m afraid … Look who’s coming.”

  Susan turned and saw Bananas Gordon being carried on the hip of a young woman. She had long, crinkled red hair, which the baby was clasping in both hands and stuffing into his bud-shaped mouth. Both of his parents rose to greet him.

  “Susan, this is Chloe,” Kathleen began the introductions. “Chloe, this is Mrs. Henshaw and her husband. And you should meet Chad and Chrissy—I’m sure they’re around somewhere.…”

  “They’re at a table in the back of the room. They are having dinner with some new friends,” Jed explained. “You might be interested in meeting them, too—they’ve been living in your country for the last few years.”

  “That would be nice, but I can meet them later,” Chloe suggested. “I just came down to see if you wanted me to give Bananas his bath now or whether I should wait a while,” she explained to Kathleen after greeting everyone.

  “Now is fine. Then I can come up and put him to bed in forty-five minutes or so.”

  “You’ll miss the ranger talk,” Jerry warned his wife.

  “That’s okay. I’m exhausted tonight. You can go without me.”

  “I’ll take him back up then,” the au pair said, removing the child from his mother’s arms. “Don’t rush. He’s having a good time with his new stuffed moose. The horns are perfect for teething.”

  Jerry laughed. “They’re called antlers. Kathleen wasn’t happy buying out most of the toy stores in Connecticut, so now she’s trying to collect everything the gift shop here offers for babies.”

  “Those stuffed animals are adorable,” Susan said. “And unusual. I don’t think you would have much luck finding a toy coyote on the East Coast.”

  “I think I’ll order dessert,” Kathleen said. “But no coffee. Bananas is a little off schedule from the flight out and the time change. He woke up at eleven-thirty last night—just as I was about to fall asleep.”

  “It’s not easy traveling with an infant,” Susan consoled her friend. “But Chloe is a big help, isn’t she?”

  “Is she really?” Susan was surprised to hear Jerry mutter under his breath.

  FOUR

  Just as there’s only one restaurant at Snow Lodge, there’s only one form of public entertainment in the evening. Without television, those who have finished their dinners, grown bored with their books, and aren’t standing in the shower or lying on their beds trying to soothe aching muscles have no option but the nightly ranger talk.

  Susan and Jed had hurried to the elegant modern auditorium behind the Visitor’s Center immediately after their meal, having promised to save seats for their children. Jerry had decided to join his family and make it an early night. No one knew where Chloe had gone. In the partially filled room, conversation hummed around them. Susan was listening to one in particular.

  “I suppose it’s really necessary to be here? I’d much rather be sitting in front of the fire back at the lodge reading a book or having a brandy.”

  “It’s necessary. You don’t think I’d be here if I had any choice, do you?”

  “I don’t know how I let Father talk me into this.…”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised, you always do. We both always do. I don’t know if it’s us or if it’s Father. Now, let’s just try not to be more miserable than absolutely necessary.

  “What is tonight’s topic, by the way?”

  “Something like ‘Predators: Friend or Foe?’ ”

  “Well, that certainly sounds boring.”

  “This
place isn’t bad. At least the food is good.”

  “I can get great food at home. I only wanted to spend my winter vacation someplace where I could get a tan. Was that too much to ask?”

  “Don’t you think your eavesdropping is a little obvious?”

  “Jed! Shhhh! They’ll hear you!” Susan leaned down to tie her boot. The two women sitting in front of them had been fascinating her since she first noticed them during dinner over an hour ago. They would have attracted her attention in most places because they were, quite simply, two of the prettiest women she had ever seen. In fact, now that she thought of it, she realized that she didn’t know many truly pretty adult women. She knew women who were attractive, unusual, chic, striking, and even a few who were beautiful, but the term pretty she would have reserved for children, girls in their teens, and the very few who carried that quality over into their early twenties. But these two sisters—for sisters they must be—were certainly at least thirty, and both maintained a golden blond prettiness unusual even in younger women.

  The older of the two was the tallest, and wore her hair in a smooth chignon from which curly tendrils escaped down onto her collar. Her skin was creamy, her eyes blue; she reminded Susan of one of the famous portraits in shampoo ads of the early sixties. The younger had slightly more golden hair cut shoulder length and left to curl naturally; her cheeks were slightly less pink than her lips, and her eyes were the blue of the summer sky. Susan was too cynical to believe this could all be real.

  They wore hiking boots. This appeared their only concession to the rigors of the environment. If the exquisitely tailored wool slacks or silk shirts of either hid long underwear, Susan would have been surprised. They both wore delicate gold jewelry, the older woman earrings, two necklaces, and the type of gold and diamond bracelet advertised as a tennis bracelet. The other sister wore diamond and pearl earrings, a headband fashioned from silk spun with gold threads, and a gold Rolex watch. In this group of people dressed for winter sports in jeans, turtlenecks, bulky wools, and an amazing assortment of brightly colored sportswear, they looked as if they had taken a turn at the corner of Park and Fifty-seventh and miraculously ended up in a geyser basin.