Judith fought back a sudden onrush of nausea. Seeing the old man’s body in his tent wasn’t nearly as upsetting as finding him abandoned in the forest. She tried not to stagger as she made her way back to the car.
“Coz!” Renie yelped when she saw her cousin struggle to get into the driver’s seat. “What’s wrong?”
“Codger,” Judith gasped. “They never sent him down the river. We have to tell the Mounties.” She handed over the flashlight, but made no attempt to start the car.
“Now?” Renie finally asked.
“Yes. But give me a minute. That was kind of gruesome.” Briefly, she recounted what she’d seen.
“Why,” Renie asked, “would they do such a thing?”
“‘They’?” Judith said. “Maybe only one of them.”
“The killer?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. They’re peculiar people.”
“The Odells seem normal,” Renie noted.
“They’re still related. Genes don’t lie.” Judith turned the ignition key. The sighting of Codger’s body had sobered her in more ways than one. “Maybe they took him to the Cave and Basin Hot Springs, but the curative waters didn’t help. Then they gave up and left him here.” She shook herself. “I want to get away from this place. It’s just too weird.”
For once, Renie didn’t comment.
Ten minutes later when they reached RCMP headquarters, the building was dark. Judith rolled down the window and looked out at the sign by the door.
“Drat! They close at eleven and open at seven in the morning. I suppose they have patrol cars on duty, but that’s no help.”
“Why don’t you speed through town and knock over a few pedestrians?” Renie suggested. “Of course, you might have to take a Breathalyzer test and then you’d get a DUI.”
“Come up with a helpful idea for a change, okay?”
“I did. I bet the thought crossed your mind.”
Judith smiled. “Not quite. But you and I often know what the other one is thinking.”
“Propinquity and heredity,” Renie allowed. “So why would anybody hide Codger’s body in the woods? Why not follow the old coot’s plan to be sent down the river on that bier?”
Judith didn’t answer until they were almost in sight of the motel. “The bier was hidden from the police,” she finally said, “so maybe they wanted to make it look as if his wish had been granted without the chance of the body being found downriver and being arrested for violating a local law. The answer to your question may be that the body would’ve been found eventually. But that poses the obvious question of why didn’t they want the police to find the body? They knew he’d been murdered. Naturally, they’d all become suspects.
“Now you’re the one who’s saying ‘they,’” Renie pointed out. “How come?”
Judith pulled into the parking area behind the motel. “We have to assume that only one person killed Codger. Maybe all or some of them know who did it. But the body disposal had to involve at least two people because it was done in broad daylight. One to do the deed and one to keep watch. The only thing I know for sure is that the Mounties aren’t going to let them leave Canada until they figure out who’s not guilty.”
Renie frowned. “As opposed to who’s innocent?”
Judith shrugged. “I’m not sure any of them are innocent. In fact, I’m not even sure the Stokes folks are really the Stokes folks. They seem unreal to me.”
When they got out of the car, Renie pointed to an empty parking place. “No Buick.”
“You’re right. But the twins may still be partying somewhere. It’s not quite midnight.”
“True,” Renie agreed. “Let’s put ourselves to bed, along with all our speculations.”
“Good idea,” Judith murmured.
But that was easier said than done, even after she’d gone to sleep. Judith had nightmares of a hooded Codger-like creature waving a scythe. But instead of a black robe, he was wearing bloodstained overalls.
It was not a restful night.
When Judith awoke shortly before eight thirty Sunday morning, she was tempted to call Arlene and find out if Mighty Tidy and Sons had shown up to do the housework. But it was only an hour earlier at the B&B and the Rankerses would be preparing the guests’ breakfast. Instead, filial devotion overcame her, so she dialed her mother’s number.
“What now?” Gertrude rasped. “You need bail money?”
“Of course not,” Judith replied. “Renie and I had dinner last night at the big hotel after we went to church. The boys have gone fishing but should be back tonight.”
“The boys?” Gertrude sounded as if she were sneering. “Haven’t those two knuckleheads been draining the Social Security system for almost as many years as I can count on my fingers?”
“Not nearly as long as you have,” Judith reminded her mother, and changed the subject. “How are Phyliss’s stand-ins doing?”
“What stand-ins?” Gertrude snapped. “Her Royal Religious Loonyness was here yesterday.”
“She was?” Maybe Gertrude’s memory was slipping.
“Are you sure?”
The old lady chortled. “The crazy fool got jilted. Why not? Who’d be dumb enough to marry Phyliss?”
“They say there’s someone for everybody,” Judith said. “So who was Phyliss’s suitor?”
“A serial bigamist, that’s who,” Gertrude declared. “Her groom-to-be has at least three other wives. He got the idea that Phyliss owned my house. I guess she didn’t let on that she doesn’t live in the B&B. She met him at her weird church. No surprise there.”
“Poor Phyliss.” Judith felt sorry for her cleaning woman. “Have you talked to her?”
“She says the devil made her do it. I told her even Satan wouldn’t come up with a crackpot idea like that. He’s too busy trying to get everybody to vote for the Republicans. Speaking of which, Aunt Deb and I are playing bridge tonight with Sophie Savery and her sister, Samantha. Sophie lies about her age. I know she voted for Dewey not once but twice—against FDR and then Truman. She swears she only did it in ’48.”
Judith knew better than to get her mother launched on politics. She’d never stopped insisting that Herbert Hoover had caused the Great Depression all by himself. “I hear Renie stirring in the next room. I’d better see if she’s ready to go out to breakfast.”
“She better not be stirring up trouble,” Gertrude warned. “You two are behaving yourselves, aren’t you?”
“Of course! We haven’t even been shopping yet.”
“Good. Don’t. Unless you see a nice cardigan,” Gertrude added. “I could use a new one if they don’t try to gouge you. Tourists can be treated like saps. I ought to know. I’ve seen some of your dopey guests.”
Judith ignored the remark. “I’ll make sure we don’t have that problem,” she promised before ringing off.
Renie stood in the doorway between the two rooms. “You woke me up,” she asserted. “These walls must be made of cardboard. Who were you talking to?”
Judith said she’d called her mother. She’d save the news about Phyliss’s broken romance until her cousin was fully alert.
Renie yawned and staggered back into the Joneses’ half of the suite. “Give me half an hour to put myself together. Maybe after that I’ll wake up.”
Judith needed some time, too. It was well after nine when they got into the elevator. A female voice called from the hall to hold the door. A moment later, a breathless Trixie rushed inside and virtually fell against the far wall mumbling something that sounded like “thanks.”
Judith noticed that Trixie looked very different from the pretty, cheerful young woman she’d met earlier at the front desk. “Are you okay?” she asked in a concerned voice.
“Yes. No. I mean . . .” Trixie pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “The last few days have been real bummers.”
“Yes,” Judith said, “you came to work at the height of the tourist season. Baptism by fire, as they say.”
Trixie’s reddened eyes narrowed. “More like hell.”
The elevator stopped. Judith’s smile was sympathetic. “You have a steady job. You should be thankful for that.”
“Thankful?” Trixie curled her lip. “A job’s the last thing I wanted! What’s money compared to love? Men are rotten!” She stomped out of the elevator and disappeared down the hall.
“Gee,” Renie said as they walked out into the parking area, “you flunked a personal relations encounter. Isn’t that the first time in about five years?”
“Not that long. I wonder why she’s so upset?”
“I advise you not to try to find out,” Renie responded. “Maybe she’s the overly emotional type.”
Shaking her head, Judith got behind the SUV’s steering wheel. “Trixie’s certainly distraught. I can relate to her. She has my sympathy.”
“Give yourself a break,” Renie advised. “You have enough to do trying to find out who killed Codger.”
Judith didn’t say anything as they drove away from the motel. When she finally spoke, it was to change the subject. “The RCMP office is open now. We’ll stop there first to tell them about finding the body.”
“No, we will not,” Renie stated firmly. “We’ll eat first. I’m starving and Codger’s not going anywhere.”
Judith knew better than to argue with her cousin when she was hungry. “Okay, how about Wild Flour?”
“They don’t have pancakes,” Renie said, now sounding cranky. “I want a real breakfast. I checked the guide at the motel and Phil’s is supposed to have great pancakes. It’s right across the river from the police station. What more could you ask?”
“The address?”
“Jeez,” Renie growled, “I’m weak at math, I don’t do numbers. It’s on Spray Avenue. How hard is that?”
Judith decided that finding Phil’s would be easier than dealing with her crabby, ravenous cousin. Happily, once she crossed the bridge, the restaurant was only a short distance away. But when they got inside, there was a long line of customers. Apparently, everybody loved Phil’s pancakes.
“Curses!” Renie said under her breath. “Do I have to fake my own death to get served before noon?”
“Why don’t you try it?” Judith retorted. But she said it softly.
Renie merely growled again. Unless, Judith thought, the sound came from her stomach and not her throat.
Twenty minutes later they were seated. Judith unloaded Phyliss’s sad story. Apparently cheered by the prospect of food, Renie was uncharacteristically sympathetic.
“She’s led a really dull existence. Oh, I know she was born late in her parents’ lives and her father abandoned them and then her mother got sick. Phyliss had to nurse her for years. The only source of comfort she had was the peculiar church she joined. I suppose she doesn’t really know any better.”
“That’s true,” Judith agreed. “She complains a lot, but the basic attitude is grounded in her religious beliefs. She may be happier than a lot of people with money and status. Look at the Stokes family. They’re apparently rich, but they don’t seem very happy. I wonder what’s with Ada.”
Renie didn’t answer right away. Their order had arrived. Lavishly buttering her pancakes and pouring syrup over them, she finally responded. “Mentally disabled, I assume. She’s so thin. Maybe she doesn’t eat enough.” She shoveled in a big bite of pancakes, egg, and sausage.
“You do. And you’re still thin.” Judith smiled. “It’s hard to tell how old Ada is. Probably around thirty unless there’s a big gap between her and Teddy.” She paused. “Speaking of age, I’d like to know how old Codger was.”
Renie looked up from her plate. “Does it matter?”
“Yes. I really doubt he could have been close to a hundred as someone suggested. But why lie about his age? I’d like to see his passport. And the photo on it. We have no idea what he looked like. His face, that is. We never saw it.”
“You could go back to have another peek at his corpse,” Renie suggested with a puckish expression.
“No thanks.” Judith actually shuddered. “That was too grim even for me. But the police may know.”
Renie didn’t speak until she’d swallowed another mighty mouthful of food. “Speaking of grim, I wonder what Phyliss’s no-show looked like.”
“That might be grimmer,” Judith said. “Let’s stick to murder.”
Her cousin laughed. “I knew you’d say that.”
Half an hour later they arrived at RCMP headquarters. Sergeant Brewster was on duty along with two other officers, and explained that Constable MacRae had Sunday off. If the stalwart Brewster was surprised to see the cousins, he didn’t show it, but merely asked how he could help them.
“It’s the other way around,” Judith said apologetically. “We found Mr. Stokes’s body.”
Only a tic in Brewster’s forehead revealed his surprise. “I see. How and where did you find it?”
“By accident,” Judith replied. “We took the long way back to the motel after dinner at the Banff Springs Hotel.”
Brewster nodded faintly. “So where was the victim?”
Judith was at a loss when it came to the exact location. She looked helplessly at Renie, who looked at Brewster. “Do you know where the raccoons live at night?” she asked the Mountie in a guileless voice.
“They live all over the area,” Brewster replied with a touch of impatience. “Can you be more precise?”
Fearing that Renie’s overly benign expression might rile the sergeant, Judith quickly intervened. “It was late and quite dark, but we could show you the route we took.”
“Fine,” Brewster said. “We’ll go now in my cruiser, eh?” He led the way out back.
After he drove from the parking lot, he asked if they’d gone over a bridge after leaving the hotel. Judith said they hadn’t, but she recalled seeing something about a golf course in the vicinity. Brewster nodded once.
After a short distance through town, they did cross a bridge. “You were coming from the hotel, eh?” he said. “For some reason, you went the wrong way.”
“It really was quite dark,” Judith pointed out, not wanting to admit that she and Renie had been a bit fuzzy at the time. “I guess we got turned around.”
Brewster didn’t respond at once. When he did, he asked if they remembered any landmarks.
“Only that we could see the trail made by the raccoons,” Judith replied. “We’d stopped to let them cross.”
“Ah” was the sergeant’s only response as he slowed down. Judith took that as a good sign. A minute or so later he signaled to turn off onto the verge. “Is this the spot?”
“It could be,” Judith replied. “It really was very dark.”
Brewster opened his door. “Come along, show me where you found Mr. Stokes.”
Judith got out of the car, but Renie stayed put. “I didn’t go with my cousin,” she said. “I don’t suppose you brought any snacks?”
Brewster’s dark eyebrows rose. “Snacks?”
Renie sighed. “Never mind. It was just a thought.”
Judith squared her shoulders and led the way. “You can see the trail for yourself. We don’t have far to go.”
They walked for longer than Judith remembered doing the previous night. She finally stopped by a fallen fir branch and looked at Brewster. “Something’s wrong. We’ve gone too far. I don’t recall that branch and there’s been very little wind here. Let’s go back a few yards.”
The nerve in Brewster’s forehead ticked again. “If you say so.”
Judith moved slower, finally pausing by a tall cedar. “That big whorl in the bark—I remember it. I happened to shine my flashlight on it. The body was right there by this tree. Except,” she added after a gulp, “it’s not here now.”
“I can see that,” Brewster said in a controlled voice.
“Look,” Judith said, annoyed with herself for feeling defensive, “I didn’t invent finding Mr. Stokes here. If you bring in your crime-scene people, I’m sure you’ll find evidence that the body was ditched here. He was covered by a dark blue blanket that looked as if it had been torn in places by some of the local wildlife.”
Brewster regarded Judith with what she first took for skepticism, but realized was more like curiosity. “You have a reputation as an amateur detective,” he said at last. “Why would anyone put the body here in the forest?”
Frustrated, Judith shook her head. “I don’t know. But there has to be a reason. As a guess, I’d say it was because they didn’t want an autopsy performed on the victim.”
“That makes some sense,” Brewster allowed. “Then why didn’t they bury it, eh?”
“Because they didn’t have time?” Judith suggested. “Then again, there’s nothing about that family that does make sense, including why he was killed in the first place.”
Brewster didn’t comment until they returned to the cruiser. “I’ll request a crime-scene team to come from Calgary. Hopefully, they’ll get here later today.”
Judith nodded faintly. “I have to ask—have you found the weapon?”
“No.” The sergeant’s face was expressionless. “We suspect it may’ve been thrown into the river.”
“Oh.” Judith felt remiss for not considering as much. “I don’t suppose it could wash up somewhere.”
“We’ve thought of that,” Brewster said, still deadpan. “Of course, a half-dozen knives could fall into the Bow from fishermen or hikers or picnickers. The chances of getting prints from any of them would be slim, eh?”
“Yes,” Judith agreed. “But someone in the family might recognize it.”
“Maybe.” Brewster ushered her into the cruiser. “Meanwhile,” he continued, getting into the driver’s seat, “we don’t have extensive forensic resources in Banff. We’ll secure the site here by the tree to keep out trespassers.”
“Of course,” Judith echoed. She’d settled in next to Renie in the backseat and nudged her cousin in the upper arm. “Are you conscious?”
“No,” Renie replied, and closed her eyes in an attempt to prove it. She stayed that way until they’d returned to headquarters, where Brewster told them they were free to go, but to keep in touch.
“Having fun?” Renie asked after they got into the SUV.
“Murder is never fun,” Judith declared, and then told her that Codger’s corpse had gone missing.
“No kidding,” Renie said vaguely. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I was,” Judith admitted. “Well . . . maybe not as surprised as I was to find the old guy there in the first place.”
Renie fastened her seat belt. “When do we get to the part where we discover that Codger isn’t really dead?”
“Don’t say things like that!” Judith cried. “Nothing about this crazy case could surprise me.”
But to add to her unease, all sorts of weird notions niggled at her brain, including that maybe Codger wasn’t Codger. For once, she kept that nutty idea to herself.