Westerby sat and stared at Mara's corpse. Once she'd been examined by him – and Dan – the body bag had been zipped shut to minimize contamination for the medical examiners. But now, with the delay of the police, Westerby had questions he hoped he could answer before they got here and the only way to do that was to take another look at her.

He hadn't counted on the mixture of blood and rain on the body freezing the zipper shut once she was covered. It was a stupid thing to overlook but he wasn't going to lose sleep over it as a few good yanks made the ice crumple inside the bag and away from the zipper's teeth. He took it down to just below her clavicle to get another – closer – look at the wound in her neck. For the first time since he left the army he regretted not getting involved in crime scene investigation in with the MPs.

Sticking Mara in the freezer had been the right decision. He was sure the damage from dragging her through the woods – even if on a makeshift drag sled – didn't do her body any good but it was either that or take the investigator to where her body "might" be and try to locate some of the parts throughout the woods and various animal dens. He figured the cops would get over their momentary snit when they realized he'd done the right thing, given the circumstances.

Still, he was certain there would be looks and accusations and downright insults about being unknowledgeable about how to treat a body. McKenzie would set them straight. One slicing remark about night animals eating the face off a young woman would either send them outside to vomit or shut them up. Damn, he was going to miss her when she retired next year.

He sighed heavily. "So, young lady, who the hell did this to you?"

"None of us." He whirled around.

Hugh stood in the doorway, frowning at Mara's body. He hadn't seen her, just knew what Dan had told him. He glanced away for a moment, a pained look on his face, then back, shaking his head. "Poor kid."

Westerby was all attention at that. "Really? That's the first kind word I've heard one of you say about her."

Hugh shrugged as he came closer to look down at her. "She was… difficult."

"In what way?"

"She was," Hugh paused, looking for the right word, "contrary. You know people like that, don't you? If you say the sky is blue they point out the cloud? Doesn't matter how small a wrong is, they have to point it out, or find one that isn't there. If you say you're driving into the city they tell you the traffic cops are out to get you. That kind of thing."

"She seemed pleasant to me."

Hugh shook his head. "No. Happy news to her was nothing more than a harbinger of something bad to come."

"You sound like you knew her pretty well."

Hugh shook his head. "Not really."

"You guys have anything to do with her attitude?"

"No. We treated her like we treat all our children's friends. As far as I could see, Laurel and Dan were good to her."

"What about your wife?"

"The same. We've known each other most of our lives, but that doesn't mean we live in each other's pockets. Or tell each other what to do."

"You're also in-laws." Westerby pointed out.

Hugh's expression hardened.

"It still doesn't mean we tell each other what to do. We're close, yes. Our children are married, yes. We help each other when we can. "

"Really?"

"Not to the point of murdering someone."

"There's no one else up here." Westerby pointed out.

Hugh had gone back to studying Mara's face. He slowly turned to peer straight at Westerby and from the redness of his eyes and a slight off focus gaze the caretaker realized Hugh had been drinking.

Hugh jabbed him in the shoulder. "You're here."

Westerby didn't answer. Hugh jabbed him again.

"You're here."

"That I am. And I had no beef with the young woman."

"Bet you get lonely up here." Hugh said.

Westerby decided not to engage. "You've been drinking. I suggest you go back to your room and take a little nap. You're going to want to be sober when the police get here."

Hugh sneered. "Nobody, not one of us, did this. We were all here, in the lodge. But we don't know where you were." And he walked out.

Because he'd decided not to engage with someone clearly under the influence Westerby hadn't bothered to mention that Todd and Molly had gone off into the woods after the afternoon argument in the great room.

With a sigh he zipped the body bag closed, noticing the sound of small pieces of ice as they fell from the zipper's teeth onto the body.

****

Back in his quarters Westerby glanced at the clock. Sgt. McKenzie hadn't called which meant she could be ten minutes away or, God forbid, ten hours. He looked out the window as more snow fell. The sky was so dark everyone had their lights on in their rooms. He could see the windows for all the families. A lively argument was going on in Hugh and Muriel's room with lots of gesticulating. In Dan and Laurel's the two stood staring out the window, his arm around her, she leaning into him. Whatever was being said was highly emotional as Dan pulled her tight and she clung to him, sobbing. In Todd and Molly's room only Molly was there pacing back and forth until she dropped out of view. Westerby assumed she'd thrown herself on her bed in frustration. The window to Jackson's room was dark, but the shadow in it was in Todd's shape as he, too, looked out the window toward the driveway, waiting for the police.

Westerby hadn't thought of himself as a suspect but with a crawling feeling down his back he realized that the families would certainly try to implicate him to the police.

He wished McKenzie would get here.