Rough Country

price, and Zoe can’t afford that. A bidding war would be the end of her. Erica, as I understand it, has a lot of money. Had a lot of money.”
    “When’s the sale supposed to take place?” Virgil asked.
    “Well, if it does, this winter. Usually, that sort of thing happens in the off-season. It would have happened last winter, but Zoe couldn’t get the financing together, and asked Mother for another year.”
    “Why wouldn’t your mother have told me this? Or Zoe?”
    “I suppose because . . . they didn’t want you to suspect them,” she said. “I’m only telling you because . . . well, what if it is Zoe? What if she’s gone a little crazy? What if Mother’s on her list?”
    “Huh. All right. Interesting,” Virgil said. “You did well to tell me. I will keep your name under my hat, but I will look into it.”
     
     
     
    AT THE HOSPITAL, he found Jan Washington had been moved to Duluth.
    “When did this happen?” he asked the nurse.
    “About an hour ago. They think she might be bleeding again, inside, and they need better imaging equipment. They’re probably going back in.”
    “Is she . . . how serious is this?”
    “Serious, but nobody thinks she’ll die. I mean, she might—but it’s mostly getting inside to see what’s happening. She’s pretty strong.”
     
     
     
    VIRGIL STOPPED AND KNOCKED on Zoe’s door, but nobody was home. He called the sheriff’s department, identified himself, and asked for an address and directions. He got them, found Zoe’s business office at the end of a strip mall, ZOE TULL, CPA.
    Inside, he found a waiting room, with a half-dozen comfortable chairs with business magazines, two people waiting, and a secretary-receptionist who said Zoe was with a client, behind one of three closed office doors down a short hallway. A bigger operation than Virgil had expected.
    Virgil identified himself and asked, “Could you break in, tell her that I need to talk to her for a minute? It’s somewhat urgent.”
    The secretary was reluctant, knocked on the last door, then went in; a moment later, she came back out and said, “Just one minute.”
    Zoe came out a minute later, and Virgil tipped his head toward the door, and they stepped outside.
    “What happened?” Zoe said.
    “Why didn’t you tell me that you were competing with McDill on the purchase of the Eagle Nest?”
    Zoe pulled back a bit, watching him, judging, then said, “Because it had nothing to do with the murder, and it was a complicating factor. Besides, she wasn’t serious. When Margery told her that she might sell out, she said something like, ‘I could be interested in something like that.’ But she never came back to it. Never asked any serious questions.”
    “I needed to know, Zoe.”
    “Why? It’s a distraction. It has nothing to do with these killings,” she said.
    “Because there’s a few million dollars in play there. That’s enough for a murder,” Virgil said. “Her daughter, and her husband, want Margery to stay on, because they think the resort’ll bring a better price once we get out of this market slowdown. And the reason they want that is because they’ll probably inherit, eventually. So it’s not just you.”
    “You don’t really think Iris and Earl would kill somebody to stop a sale?”
    “How would I know? I don’t know Earl. Or Iris,” Virgil said. “I do know that McDill was shot and somebody broke into your house. I have to look at them—and I have to know about them before I can look at them.”
    She nodded. “Okay, okay. So, I was dumb. But it didn’t seem related. Erica wasn’t serious. . . . I’m sorry.”
    “Is there anything else that you don’t think is important, that maybe I should know?”
    “No. No, there’s nothing. Jeez. I thought for a minute that I might be back on the suspect list.”
    “You never really left it,” Virgil said, shaking his head at her.
     
     
     
    MAPES CALLED: the rifle was on the way to Grand Rapids with a highway patrolman. “He left here ten minutes ago, but it’ll be better’n an hour before he’s down there. He’ll leave it with the sheriff’s office.”
    “Thanks, man. I’m gonna use it as an invitation to get back into a place.”
    “Piece of shit, I can tell you. Been shot a lot. Our gun guy put it on a bench out at the range and couldn’t keep it inside four inches at a hundred yards,” Mapes said. “Suppose it’d be a good self-defense weapon.”
     
     
     
    AN HOUR TO KILL.
    He’d get