Exit Strategy (Nadia Stafford 1)

"Might be," I said. "With this mild of a fall, I wouldn't count on snow until January. Plus we get a busy spurt over the holidays. I don't think you guys want to mingle with the 'romantic country Christmas' crowd."

Pete Moore walked into the dining room.

"Finally," Mitch said. "Get lost on your way to town?"

Moore slapped the day's Toronto Star onto the table. "It wasn't him."

Mitch shook his head. "Put that away and sit down before all the food's gone."

"Wasn't who?" someone down the table asked.

"The New York subway killing. They've confirmed it wasn't the Helter Skelter killer. Rumor has it some witness was running around claiming he saw a page by the body, but it was just a piece of paper."

"Page?" I said.

"From the book."

I longed to ask "what book?" but didn't dare. A natural enough question under the circumstances, but I told myself it was still better not to take an interest. I could look it up later.

"So it's only four," one of the businessmen said.

"For now," Moore said, pulling out his chair.

"Well, four murders, the best cops on the case, they must be getting close," I said.

Silence answered. I looked down the table, at the faces of the most seasoned officers there. They concentrated on their plates, eyes downcast as if in reverence for the victims to come. My stomach twisted.

"Nadia's right," Bruce, the corporate guy, said. "They've got to catch this bastard soon, huh?"

Mitch finished chewing and swallowed. "It doesn't look that easy. He's not leaving them a damned thing to go on."

I speared a pickle. "I heard a rumor he might be a professional killer. That true?"

"A hitman turned serial killer?" Lucy said. "God, I hope not."

"Or this sure as hell won't stop at four," someone muttered.

When the last of my guests trickled out later that afternoon, I spoke to Emma. Something had come up, and I had to leave for a few days. During the week, the lodge would see only a few guests, so it was easily handled.

As for where I was going, she didn't ask. According to Emma, I spent far too much time at the lodge anyway. I should take advantage of slow times to travel and get together with friends--preferably male ones. So when I did slip away mysteriously now and then, she only smiled and told me to have a good time.

I stayed to help with the post-weekend cleaning, then left for Toronto that evening.

I had a plane to catch.

* * *

FIVE

I turned the page on my in-flight magazine and wished I'd picked up a newspaper so I could acquaint myself with the basics of the case. I'd been worried about displaying too much interest in the matter but I seemed to stand out more by not taking an interest.

The woman in the aisle seat leaned toward her husband, voice low to avoid waking those lucky few who'd managed to fall asleep.

"I'm only saying--" she began.

"That you're afraid," her husband boomed. "Christ almighty, Anne. No one's going to break into the hotel room and kill you while I'm at my conference."

"The newspaper says we shouldn't be alone. That's the one thing all four murders had in common. The victim was alone."