From Here to Paternity

other stuff come from?“ Shelley asked. “That bowl thing that was the crown, and the whatever-it-was that looked like a robe?“
    “The bowl is one that’s in a lot of the cabins. A local firm delivers fruit gift packs in them,“ Mel said. “They’re usually left in the cabins. And the robe was just a standard-issue blanket—one of the extras that are in the closet of each cabin. Unfortunately, they get shifted around, too. Family groups like this one move around, people get cold and use a blanket like a shawl to run back to their own cabins, and so forth. They only get sorted out if the maids happen to notice that mere’s an excess in one cabin and a shortage in another.“
    “None of which is any help at all,“ Jane said.
    “Unless the sheriff knows a lot he’s not telling me. Which is possible,“ Mel replied.
    “And what did he say about me?“ Jane asked, then added, “Never mind,“ as the boys and Willard came back in. She certainly didn’t want the kids to know she was under suspicion, however absurd the idea was.
    Katie and Denise were eventually dragged away from their bathroom, where they were still feverishly consulting on makeup, and the whole mob moved off toward the lodge. Mel went ahead with the kids, who were engaged in a traveling snowball fight. The snow was so cold and dry that it was hard to form into a ball at all, and most of them exploded into powder before ever reaching a target.
    “It must have been hard to build a snowman,“ Shelley speculated.
    Jane nodded. “I think that was the reason for the blanket/robe thing. So the back didn’t have to be covered. Maybe you have to pour water on snow to make it hold its shape here. To form a crust. That’s probably why you don’t see many snowmen.“
    “I don’t suppose the sheriff is likely to confide in us whether that was done,“ Shelley said. “But it could be significant. You’d have to have some kind of thermos along.“
    “I don’t think that would be much help in narrowing down suspects, though,“ Jane said. “Lots of people carry around thermoses. They even sell them in the equipment hut with a sort of belt-loop thing so you can hang it onto yourself somewhere. I noticed because it looked like a good way to carry coffee.“
    “You’re right. I’d thought of that, too, but had forgotten.“
    “But there’s something we’ve kind of overlooked about this,“ Jane remarked. “The fact that the snowman was gotten up to look—well, regal . Doesn’t that mean Bill’s death had something to do with the Tsar thing?“
    “Not necessarily. You said yourself the robe thing was probably a device to save somebody from having to cover the body all the way around.“
    “True, but there was the crown, too. There was no practical purpose for that. Nor for the old bent ski pole the snowman was holding in its stick arms that looked like a scepter. Doesn’t all of that look like deliberate mockery of the whole concept of Bill Smith as Tsar?“
    “Unless the motive was completely unrelated and the murderer just did that to make it look like the genealogists were guilty in some way.“
    “Jeez, Shelley! If a murderer were really that clever, he’d have thought of a better way to solve his problem than to kill Mr. Smith—and maybe Mrs. Schmidtheiser, too.“
    “You’d think so, but that’s because we haven’t got what a murderer has—a conscience, or lack of con-science, that even allows the thought of murder as a solution to a problem.“
    “Yes, but it still seems most likely that the whole ‘royal trimmings’ business does point to the Holnagrad/Tsar situation.“
    “I agree it’s very likely,“ Shelley allowed. “But where does that get us?“
    “I dunno,“ Jane said wearily. She suddenly realized she was sick and tired of the whole business. She’d come here for a long-awaited and well-deserved vacation and—dammit!—she was going to have fun—if it killed her.

    The Saturday night dinner and dance were fun.
    The casual dining room had been set up with a stupendous Tex-Mex buffet. Jane planned to sample a tiny bit of everything, but couldn’t get through half of her testing. Not only was there a huge variety, but she found a casserole dish called King Ranch Chicken that she fell so much in love with that she had three helpings.
    “I’m going to get this recipe if I have to beat up the chef to make him reveal it,“ she exclaimed. “Try it, Shelley. It tastes sort of