RESORT TO MURDER (7 page)

Rose turned her round eyes to Maggie and
smiled sadly, and Maggie could only nod. She had never thought much
about death before, and now it seemed to be all-pervasive.

"You didn't know anything in particular about
the other girl's death, then?" Maggie asked, bringing the
conversation back from the abstract to the here-and-now.

"No, but I knew about poor Randy
Chamber's."

"Randy Chamber? Who was he?"

Rose waved a large arm pointing vaguely to
the right. "Our neighbor's boy. Worked up there, too. In
maintenance. He was driving home late one night, on that awful,
twisty road, went off it and was killed dead. Police said he was
driving recklessly, but....” Rose shook her head with disbelief.
"He was a good boy, not one of those wild ones."

Maggie stared. A
second
suspicious death.
Or was it?

"Did the sheriff investigate it?" she
asked.

Rose nodded. "But you know how it is. Just
another teenager wrecking his car, getting himself killed. They
said there was nothing else to it. Who can tell? All I know is it
was awful hard on his folks."

Rose pushed herself heavily out of the
chair. "Well, I'd better get back in, see what needs doing."

"Oh, by the way," Maggie said, stopping Rose
in mid-turn, "what was Lori studying in college? Was it
biology?"

"Biology? No, Lori wanted to be a social
worker. She wanted to help people. She wanted to get a degree,
starting first at the community college, then finishing the last
two years at the university."

"Was she taking any summer classes, do you
know, perhaps a science class?"

"No, she had to work full time in the summer
to pay for tuition. The Highview was the best job, the best
pay.”

Rose's face had a question mark on it, and
Maggie explained why she’d asked. "There was a book found near her.
A college level biology book. Not exactly light summer reading, so
I wondered if she needed it for a class.” Maggie supposed it meant
nothing. More important, probably, were the people Lori saw. "What
about friends?" she asked. "Did she go out much? Have a
boyfriend?"

"Oh, she had friends," Rose said, "but she
wasn't what you'd call the party type. I think she had a boyfriend
back in high school, but that broke up some time ago. I never heard
anything about a boyfriend lately, but that doesn't mean there
wasn't one.

"She was a good girl," the older woman went
on. "Cared about her friends, and about people in general,
something you don't see a lot in the young ones. Just last month
she helped out at the local blood drive. They had it at the
community center and quite a few people from the hotel came to
donate, which I'll bet she had a lot to do with. And she used to
babysit for free, off and on, for the Parkinsons over on Gibson
Road who were having a hard time of things. No, you don't see a lot
of that.”

Rose heaved a mighty sigh. "Well, they say
the good die young. Must be why I'm still around.” She gave a sharp
laugh. "I guess I'd better go back in.”

She heaved herself up, then looked at Maggie
silently for a few moments. "You take care, now, up there.” Rose's
face was solemn. She opened the door and disappeared into the
house. Maggie stood on the porch for a while, then turned and
walked slowly down the steps.

Back in her car Maggie sat for a moment, her
mind sorting through the odd bits of information it had been
accumulating. Things at the Highview, beyond Lori's death, seemed
out of kilter. Holly had told her about the presumed suicide, and
now Rose mentioned an accidental death. Was there any connection
between these deaths and Lori's? She couldn't know yet, but it was
disturbing. The only thing she knew right now was that Lori's
mother deserved an answer to her plea: "Who killed my little girl?”
Lori's entire family deserved an honest answer.

Maggie checked the map, then started the car
and turned it around toward Main Street. Main would take her to
Route 42. This in turn would lead her to the sheriff's office. If
anyone would have an answer to that question, the sheriff should.
And if not, Maggie wanted to know just what he was doing to get
it.

***

CHAPTER 9

April, 1998

Randy climbed into his old, beat-up Ford. It
didn't seem old and beat-up to him. To him it was great and
wonderful, his ticket to independence, the envy of most of his
friends. So it had a few dents and scratches. He would fix that, as
well as the jerking in the transmission and some other things, as
soon as he got the money.

And he
was
getting it. Thanks to this car,
he had got the job up here at the Highview, able to drive up to
work part time on landscaping. For digging a few holes and plopping
in a few bushes he was getting paid more than he ever got in his
life, though at seventeen he hadn't had too many jobs
yet.

Randy started up the car and pulled onto the
gravel road that led to the main one down the mountain. His mind
went over the day he'd had. A long day. After digging and raking
for several hours, he'd been directed to work on some of the tools
that had been stored all winter, scrape off rust, check the motors
of the small engines, and stuff. Not that he minded. It meant extra
pay, and he liked doing things like that, especially the engine
stuff. But it kept him late, and he and Jody might not be able to
make that movie after all. Maybe if he stepped on it...."

Randy sped around the curves of the road. It
was empty, so he wasn't worried about traffic. His tires squealed
as he took a sharp bend, and he pressed the brake as he came to
another. He heard, or maybe felt, something snap, and the brake
went all the

way to the floor. What the heck!

Randy had just worked on those brakes two
weekends ago. They should have been in great shape. But his foot
kept pumping and nothing was grabbing. Randy's heart started
beating hard. Another curve came up and he just barely made it. The
car was going fast. Faster than he could handle. He thought he
liked to drive fast, but not like this. Another curve. Then
another.

The last thing he saw was the dark shapes of
the trees as he crashed through the guard rail. The last thing he
felt was the terrible thud as the car hit the rocky slope, then
rolled. Randy's head hit something hard, and blackness replaced
consciousness, which was merciful, for he wasn't aware when the
flames burst out, engulfing his car, his precious car, and
everything in it, including him.

***

CHAPTER 10

Maggie parked her car at the rear of the
Highview and walked across the grounds toward the back entrance of
the hotel. She shoved her hands into her skirt pockets and frowned,
deep in thought. As she started to veer left to the door, the sound
of a familiar voice stopped her.

"Maggie! Maggie, over here!"

Maggie looked up to see Dyna waving at her
from a green and white striped lounge chair beside the pool. She
brightened at the sight of her ever-cheerful friend and went over
to join her.

"Dyna, you're just what I need.” Maggie sank
into the chair next to her.

"Kinda rough seeing the family?" Dyna asked.
She seemed to be trying to look properly somber, and nearly
succeeded.

"Yes, but I guess I was
prepared for that. I
wasn’t
prepared for what I ran into later."

Maggie told Dyna about going to the
sheriff's office. She had been greeted quite cordially, invited to
sit down, offered coffee. But when she inquired about the
investigation into Lori's death, she got vague answers and
empty-sounding assurances.

"We're working on it. Don't you worry your
little head about it," was the deepest extent of his answers.

To add to her frustration, their
conversation had been constantly interrupted by phone calls, and
questions from a deputy on various unrelated matters. When Maggie
finally gave up and rose to leave, the sheriff had covered the
phone with his hand and given her a friendly wink and a promise
that "everything is being taken care of.” Which did nothing to
convince Maggie.

The sheriff reminded her too much of Harvey,
her school principal. Harvey was big on talk, loaded with charm,
and made promises that more often than not evaporated as quickly as
he closed his office door behind you. Maggie had soon learned that
if she wanted something out of the way done at school she had to
find a way to do it herself. Maybe she would have to do the same
here.

"You don't think they'll find the killer?"
Dyna asked.

Maggie sighed. "I doubt it."

She looked over at her friend, whose
multi-shaded blonde hair was escaping bit by bit from the tie
holding most of it near the top of her head. "I can't stand the
thought of this murder not being solved, though," she said. "It
wouldn't be fair to Lori's family to just leave things hanging.
They deserve an answer. And something's going on here, I'm afraid.
More than just a drifter attacking a defenseless girl in the
woods.” She told Dyna about the two other employee deaths.

"You think someone from here is killing
people?” Dyna's blue eyes opened wide, and she glanced nervously
around at the sparsely populated pool area. A white-haired woman
wrapped in terrycloth smiled sweetly back at her from her lounge
chair several feet away.

"I think
maybe
someone from here
killed Lori, and if so Sheriff Burger doesn't seem likely to find
out who."

"Well, maybe we could try to find out," Dyna
said.

The edges of Maggie's lips turned up in a
grim smile. "Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking. Maybe we
could."

"You mean it?"

"Yes, I do. We'll be here a few more days.
We can certainly poke around, ask questions. That is, if you want
to."

"Sure I do!"

Maggie was conscious of a feeling of relief
which surprised her. She hadn't realized just how much she was
counting on her friend's help. "But Dyna," she cautioned, "it would
have to be very discreet. I might be wrong about someone from here
being involved. And of course, I might be right, in which case it
could be dangerous if we're not careful."

"Right. But it can't hurt to just ask a few
questions, and keep our eyes open, can it?" Dyna replied, her eyes
already bright with anticipation. "Where do we start?” She looked
ready to leap from her chair into action.

"Well, I've been thinking. One person who's
been mentioned so far with a hint of suspicion is the tennis pro,
Rob Clayton. Remember when Burnelle brought our dinner to the room
she said she thought there might have been something going on
between them? Why don't we start with him?"

"Rob Clayton. OK.” Dyna was on the edge of
her chair by now. "What should we do, follow him? Watch him?"

Maggie smiled. "No, just talk to him. But in
a way that seems natural, not like we're interrogating him. How
about if I take a lesson from him? My backhand is really awful, you
know."

"Yeah, I know. Good idea. But what about me?
Should I come along?"

"Well, it might be easier to get him to talk
if it's just one on one, don't you think? But I'd certainly feel a
lot more comfortable if you were nearby, like maybe practicing your
serve or something on another court?"

"Sure. Those courts are so far away from
everything else, if he’s the one who killed Lori, you don't want to
be out there alone with him. I'll be your safety net. Or watch dog,
or whatever.” Dyna jumped up suddenly and pulled at Maggie's hand,
her face eager. "Come on - let's go. Let's set you up for a lesson,
then we can work out how you're going to pump him."

Maggie laughed, and let Dyna pull her
towards the hotel, her blonde friend's ponytail - what remained of
it - bouncing with each step. Maggie felt more subdued than Dyna,
but she now had fewer qualms. She knew she would have gone ahead on
her own if Dyna had refused to get involved. But it was so much
better knowing someone would be there with you. Even if that
someone was an animal-rights-activistic-psychic-studying witch.

Once again Maggie walked the shaded pathway
to the tennis courts alone, this time in fresh navy shorts and a
white, McHenry High School T-shirt. She and Dyna had decided to
arrive separately.

"I get there a few minutes before your
lesson - it's at two, right? - and just grab a basket of balls and
an empty court and start practicing."

"Right. Now if we
synchronize our watches....” Maggie grinned as Dyna looked at her
watch. "Just kidding. No need to get too serious about this. After
all, it'll probably lead nowhere.” Maggie wondered, though, if she
were trying to convince Dyna or herself. Deep down, she knew things
might get
very
serious. Her brother Joe's face popped in her head and she
winced, knowing just how he would react to this. `What are
you
doing,
Maggie! I told you to get
out
of there.' Yes, he told her that, and she would,
soon. As soon as she found out a few things, that is.

Her thoughts went back to yesterday, shortly
after the police had taken charge of the murder scene. She
remembered watching Rob, as he lingered nearby, remembered noticing
the intensity of his interest in all that was happening, an
interest that somehow seemed detached and unemotional. She hoped to
find out what that strong interest meant, among other things.

Maggie reached the path surrounding the
courts and began to pass the court where Dyna stood with an orange
basket of balls, studiously ignoring Maggie as she went through the
motions of practicing her toss and serve. Most balls flew wild, her
thoughts apparently not on what she was doing. Suddenly there came
the sounds of loud, angry shouting. Both women's heads snapped in
the direction of the sports shop. The voice was Rob Clayton's.