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Bodhi angled his body away from the others and answered in an equally soft tone. “I cracked the windows and turned the heat down as low as I dared. It should be cold enough to halt, or at least slow, the decomposition process. I just hope the pipes don’t freeze.”
Just then, the remaining four guests clattered down the stairs in a clump. Two men, two women. The couple in the lead—a Black man with a shaved head and a long black cashmere-lined coat and a stunning redhead in towering heels so high that even the stiletto-loving Sasha would be impressed—came to stand beside Tessa. The man rested a hand on Tessa’s shoulder in a casual, familiar gesture. She leaned into it with a grateful sigh. The redhead’s nostrils flared.
The final couple joined the group slowly—almost, Leo thought, reluctantly. They were holding hands. More precisely, they clung to one another with a death grip. Leo clocked the matching bands on their left ring fingers. Another married couple, but this one wasn’t on the outs. The man, short and stocky with a buzz cut and a thick neck, put Leo in mind of a wrestler. The woman was also short—petite and reed-thin with a ballet dancer’s carriage and thick hair twisted into a heavy bun.
Leo did a cursory head count, then asked, “Is this everyone?”
“Yes,” Tessa confirmed. Then, as if she were stepping into the role of hostess, she made introductions. “Gang, this is Leo Connelly. His group is renting the other house for an anniversary party. Annette went over there to call for help and—”
“Are the police on their way?” The wrestler asked.
“Not yet. We don’t have a phone,” Leo told him. “But some of our group have experience with crime scenes. So, Dr. King and I came over to lend a hand.” He gestured to Bodhi, who bobbed his head.
Before anyone could ask another question, Tessa continued, pointing to the guests as she named them. “You’ve met Annette and Brian. This is Bethany and Chance Galeton.” The bickering couple scowled. “My business partner, Grady Jones, and his, um, date, Joy.” The Black guy nodded. The redhead flashed Leo a curious look. “And finally, Paul and Leeza Conklin. Paul and Rex were roommates all four years of college.”
Paul Conklin jerked his chin at Leo. “Rex was murdered, right?”
His friends murmured behind him. Leo focused on the man asking the question.
“It sure looks that way.”
“It looks that way—that’syour expert law enforcement opinion? Screw this. We’re leaving.” He tugged on his wife’s hand.
Leo stepped between the Conklin’s and the door. “I’m afraid you can’t do that.” He raised his voice and addressed the entire group. “Unless the authorities do get here, nobody’s going anywhere.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere, anyway,” Grady interjected. “Aside from the blizzard raging outside, we don’t have transportation, remember?”
Tessa turned to Leo and Bodhi. “We hired a van to drop us off, just like you did. The driver won’t be back until Monday morning.” She eyed Paul. “So unless you plan to walk back to Ohio, you’re stuck like the rest of us.”
Paul’s jaw tightened, and his Adam’s apple throbbed, but he didn’t respond.
Leo waited for a beat. “Now that we’ve settled that, Bodhi and I will take you over to the main house. With any luck, we’ll get a working phone line or a mobile signal so we can call the police. If not, we’ll hunker down until we can contact someone or the Carlisles return.”
It was, as plans went, a terrible one. But it was the plan he had.
“Why do we have to move over there?” The redhead pouted.
Bethany Galeton’s eyes flashed. She snapped, “Because there’s adead bodyhere, Joy.” Then she turned to Grady. “Where do you find these women?”
Before the mood could sour any further, Bodhi turned from the window and announced, “Someone’s coming up the walkway.”
CHAPTER7
Sasha shivered inside her long quilted coat. The parka was her winter dog-walking gear and usually kept her toasty during Mocha’s frosty morning walks. But it was no match for the current conditions. Even with the faux-fur-lined hood pulled over the top of her knitted hat and her gloved hands jammed in her pockets, she could feel her body heat dissipating and being carried off by the howling wind. Thick, icy snowflakes swirled, pelting her face. She lowered her head and trudged forward against the snow and wind.
Beside her, Leo mirrored her bent posture and shouted near her ear as they slogged through the heavy snow. “Why did you and Maisy venture out into this mess?”
She glanced ahead. In the distance, Maisy and Bodhi led the group toward the mansion, faintly illuminated by the glow of two large globe lamps that bracketed the house like sentries. She could barely make out Maisy’s bright red coat in the heavy snowfall. Next came Rex Stoddard’s nine guests, struggling against the gale-force winds in clumps of twos and threes. Finally, she and Leo brought up the rear of the procession.
She tugged on his sleeve so he’d stop walking. Once he was standing still, she stretched up onto her toes, lifted the edge of his ski cap, and placed her mouth near his ear. “What if Rex wasn’t the intended victim?”
He drew his ice-crusted eyebrows together and frowned at her. “Mistaken identity?”
“Could be. We did switch places with them. He’s about your height, your build, with short, thick dark hair. At a glance, ….” She trailed off and let the wind swallow the unsaid conclusion.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “You think someone was trying to kill me?”
“Aroostine raised the prospect. She and Chris are out in the woods looking for signs of the killer. Naya and Hank are searching the main house. You have to admit—it’s not outside the realm of possibility.”
