A Taste of Death (Maggie Olenski Series) Read online

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  Night had fallen, which in New Hampshire in January meant the temperature had already dropped another ten to fifteen degrees by the time Maggie followed Dyna down the cabin's steps and climbed into the Ford parked in the driveway.

  "Tonight I'll pull it into the garage," Dyna said. "Dad and Mom had the garage built after they bought the cabin. Sometimes it's a pain having to walk outside to get to it, but they couldn't attach it, and it's better than nothing. There's only room for one car, but I won't be here that long anyway." They had bundled up in parkas, boots and gloves, and, hearing the wind whistling through the trees, grabbed hats on their way out the door. As Dyna backed out onto the driveway she said, "We could actually walk to town. It's close enough if you go through the woods," then added matter-of-factly, "except we might freeze to death on the way back."

  Maggie watched eagerly as they drove down Hadley to the turn, then rode along Main Street. Street lights glimmered on the snow, and store fronts glowed, lit softly to show their wares. Dyna explained that since it was a Sunday night most shops were closed. Probably the best time for everyone to gather for a meeting, Maggie thought, images of what she considered a typical small town assembly still floating through her head. This was such a pretty, peaceful town. The perfect retreat for working on her project.

  As Dyna turned down Washington Street to get to the school, however, all Maggie's cozy It's a Wonderful Life scenes splintered, like a windshield hit with an icy snowball.

  "Down with Warwick!" an angry group of people shouted, tramping in a circle and jabbing hand-drawn signs into the air overhead with their thick-mittened hands.

  "Keep Warwick out of Cedar Hill!" one burly man demanded, his glare aimed furiously at Maggie and Dyna as they drew near.

  "Stop the Rape of Cedar Hill." a housewife screamed, leaning menacingly in their direction.

  A small boy aimed a snowball in their direction which narrowly missed, and Maggie's eyes widened in surprise. What had she come to?

  CHAPTER 2

  "What's going on?" Maggie asked. She peered at the group milling about menacingly in front of the school.

  "I don't know," admitted Dyna. She pulled the car into an empty space in the parking lot, and some of the marchers glared in their direction. "But whatever it is, I'll bet Regina White is at the head of it." Dyna seemed unconcerned, so, taking her cue from her, Maggie climbed out of the car and followed her toward the building. "Uh-huh," Dyna said over her shoulder, "I was right. There she is. Hi, Regina!"

  A thin, wiry woman dressed in a navy pea jacket and knitted cap from which a few wispy grey hairs escaped, looked over and squinted at them. Maggie saw that her face was lined, but full of energy and set with determination. She appeared to recognize Dyna and gave her a curt nod before turning back briskly to the matters at hand. And the matter at hand seemed to be to keep her small, but loud group shouting and picketing. Whoever Warwick was, Maggie thought, he obviously wasn't on the A-list with this group.

  An icy wind suddenly blew around the corner of the school. Maggie pulled her jacket collar closer and hurried with Dyna past the picketers. She helped Dyna tug open the heavy door to be greeted by welcoming warmth and an enticing aroma of coffee. They bustled in, dropped their jackets on a row of empty chairs next to the wall, and followed others gravitating to the refreshments table. Perhaps two dozen people milled about in this combination gymnasium-meeting room, some beginning to take seats in the rows of chairs set up before a table and a podium. Two young women busily worked at laying out cookies and paper plates at opposite ends of the food table.

  "Elizabeth! How you doing?" Dyna called out to one of them.

  A slim, small-boned woman of about 25, with delicate features and a long, soft cloud of light brown hair looked up and smiled at Dyna.

  "Liz, this is my friend Maggie Olenski. She's staying at our cabin for a few weeks. Maggie, Elizabeth Kerr runs the book shop on Main Street."

  Elizabeth and Maggie smiled at each other and before Maggie had a chance to say anything Dyna asked, "What's going on out there?"

  A tiny frown formed on Elizabeth's face. "The meeting tonight is to discuss changing the zoning law so that Jack Warwick can buy Big Bear resort and turn it into a mining operation, for granite. Some people are opposed to it, and Regina and her group are very opposed for environmental reasons."

  Dyna's jaw dropped. "Sell Big Bear for mining? But it's such a great ski mountain." Maggie looked at Dyna's shocked face and feared for a moment she might run back out to join the picketers.

  "Karin, does Alexander want to sell?" Dyna called to the other woman behind the table, making a hasty introduction to Maggie. Attractive, and about thirty, with sleek, chin-length, dark brown hair and large brown eyes, Karin Dekens was married to one of the major owners, Dyna explained, of Big Bear. Karin rearranged a couple of finger sandwiches before answering Dyna's question, then nodded. Maggie noticed her face had a studied neutrality.

  "Alexander feels it would be a good idea to sell. The ski resort has been struggling financially for the last few years, and Alexander thinks this is our best option."

  "But Paul loves the place. What about him? Does he want to sell?"

  Karin looked at Dyna with her large eyes and said coolly, "Paul doesn't agree with Alexander."

  At that point a tall, ruddy-cheeked man whose blue ski sweater stretched over a paunchy middle, came up beside Karin and reached past her for a sandwich.

  "These are for after the meeting," Karin said.

  "But dear one, you know I'm a growing boy." Alexander Dekens winked, patted his stomach, and grinned at Dyna. He acknowledged her introduction to Maggie, reached for a cookie, and sauntered away with another wink. Maggie noticed that Karin hadn't smiled at her husband's humor but had kept her eyes continuously on her work.

  A tawny-haired young woman came up slowly and carefully to the table. She wore cream-colored stretch pants with a matching cream-colored cable knit sweater, and high-heeled, rust-colored suede boots. The effect with her flowing hair was stunning, which her perfect figure didn't hurt. She spoke to Karin in a southern accent, which surprised Maggie, who mentally tried to place it. Somewhere south of Maryland, was all she could determine.

  "Karin, I'm just parched. Could I please have a glass of punch?" She seemed to be having trouble with her balance and reached a beautifully manicured hand out to the table to steady herself.

  "Sure Leslie." Karin introduced Leslie Warwick to Dyna and Maggie as she poured out the cold punch for her. Maggie realized that Elizabeth had suddenly disappeared.

  "You picked quite a night to come meet the townspeople," Leslie said to Maggie. "I'd stay near the door to duck out fast if things start flyin'." She laughed, and walked unsteadily towards a chair in the front row. Maggie didn't think her heels were high enough to be the cause of her wobbling.

  "Leslie's Jack Warwick's wife, of course," Karin explained after she had left. "Poor thing," she added, looking thoughtfully over Maggie's shoulder. "Excuse me, I'd better get some more ice for the punch."

  Maggie followed Dyna over to two chairs near the center and sat down. There was some scuffling as others found seats, and just before the meeting was called to order Maggie noticed that Regina White and the picketers had quietly come in and seated themselves as a group in the back.

  "That's the mayor, Tom Larson,” Dyna whispered as a white-haired man in a grey cardigan sweater stepped up to the podium.

  "Everyone find a seat?" he asked, looking around the room with a smile. He waited as the last of the talking quieted down. "Well, we have a pretty good turn-out tonight. Since I'm sure you didn't show up to hear me talk about the town hall's new snow-blower, we'll get right down to the matters at hand. All of you probably know who Mr. Jack Warwick is." He indicated the navy-blue suited man seated at the front table. "Why don't we just let him say what he's got to say. Mr. Warwick?"

  There was a smattering of applause, and Jack Warwick stepped up to the podium, nodding a
nd smiling to the mayor and to the gathered townspeople. He was a man, Maggie judged, of about fifty, but a young, vibrant fifty. Average height with broad shoulders, Jack Warwick emanated an energy and magnetism that kept everyone's eyes glued to him, waiting for his first words. He leaned towards them, his ruggedly handsome face smiling under black and white speckled hair, and said, "Good people, I propose to save Cedar Hill."

  "You propose to destroy it," a female voice came from the back, and Maggie wondered if it was Regina's. Jack Warwick ignored the comment.

  "I know your problems. I know your hardships. There have been fewer and fewer jobs. Young people are having to move away from their families, from the town they grew up in and love, to find means to support themselves." He paused, and Maggie saw a few heads nodding. "This town has depended greatly on tourists, skiers drawn to Big Bear ski resort. But as we all know, their numbers have decreased in the last few years because of the competition from newer, bigger resorts. This has hurt your economy, badly, to the point of death. I can save that economy by buying Big Bear and turning it into a thriving mining operation."

  Jack Warwick went on to enumerate the jobs that his company would bring to the area, to talk glowingly of the changes - all positive - that would come to Cedar Hill. He ended with a promise to personally donate, once the contracts were signed, as a symbol of his lasting interest in the town, a substantial amount of money for renovation of their school.

  Maggie glanced around the room and realized that the building did need repairs. Some ceiling tiles hung loosely, there were signs of water damage, and the very chairs on which they sat looked to be on their last legs. What better way to win the parents over than to promise such enticements - a new and improved situation for their children?

  "Mr. Warwick, I don't agree that your mining operation would be good for our town." Maggie looked over as a middle-aged woman, more elegantly dressed than most others there, stood to speak. "I own 'Ski Lady Boutique', an upscale women's clothing store which has designer clothing and the prices that go with them. My business would not survive if Big Bear were changed to a mining operation, nor would several others' businesses, such as Mr. Morgan's fine restaurant." She gestured to a man seated a couple rows behind her, and all heads, including Maggie's, turned to look. 'Mr. Morgan' was a slim, dark haired man in his mid thirties, who sat dourly with arms crossed tightly across his chest. To Maggie's surprise he did not rise to add his voice to the dress store owner's, but stayed silently in his seat.

  Another man jumped up to voice his opinion in favor of the zoning change. He managed the supermarket in town, and he obviously knew an influx of new jobs and new people would be good for his business. Others rose to have their say - the manager of the ski shop against, the coffee shop owner for, and so on - and as far as Maggie could tell the townspeople were evenly divided.

  Dyna pointed out Paul Dekens, Alexander's brother and part-owner of Big Bear, who listened tensely but said nothing. Maggie saw that Paul was in much better shape than his older brother, looking as though he often used the ski slopes he cared about so much. A grim look marred his even features as he listened to the arguments, but Maggie saw his expression soften when Elizabeth caught his eye, as she moved near the refreshments table. Elizabeth, with her quiet ways, seemed to be distancing herself from the debate.

  Suddenly Regina White jumped out of her seat in the back. "You talk of wanting to help this town," she shouted. "I don't believe it for a minute! It's greed! You want all the money you can pull from that mountain." She waved her arm, vigorously jabbing it to the left, in the direction, Maggie assumed, of Big Bear. "You don't care about us. You don't care what you will do to the environment. It's all greed. Money in your pocket. And you think you'll get your way, because you have your friends in high places. You've greased a few palms. You say you want our approval, our vote. You just want us to keep quiet and not get in the way! Well, we won't. Listen to me, Cedar Hill, and vote ‘No’ to keep Warwick from destroying us."

  Jack Warwick tried to respond but she drowned him out, hurling more accusations, her voice rising with each one. Tom Larson stepped up, trying to calm things down, but Regina kept the floor, causing many uncomfortable looks and some angry ones. Finally two of her companions managed to pull her down to her seat.

  One or two more people added their opinions, more quietly than Regina, then Mayor Larson brought the meeting to an uneasy end, saying that the town would vote on the issue in three weeks time.

  "I've got to run to the girls’ room," Dyna said, popping up. "I'll be right back."

  Maggie stayed in her seat and watched people as they moved around. She saw Alexander go up to Jack Warwick with an agreeable, eager-to-please look. He kept nodding and smiling as they spoke. His brother Paul scowled in their direction but passed by and went over to talk to Elizabeth, who was now serving punch.

  Leslie wobbled over to Jack and Alexander on her high-heeled boots and interrupted them, speaking in a too-loud voice. Her husband's face turned dark, and he hissed something to her. Leslie colored, and she responded in kind, then backed away, turning towards the refreshment table.

  Maggie could hear Regina in the back, arguing with one of her picketers. He was urging her to leave with him, but she insisted she would stay, that she hadn't finished with Jack Warwick yet.

  Dan Morgan, the restaurateur who had stayed silent during the public debate, stood talking to Karin Dekens. He looked a little less dour than he had appeared back in his seat, and she smiled as she spoke, touching his arm. Her husband, Alexander, left Jack Warwick and passed near them. Maggie was surprised to see a bitter smirk turn up the corners of his mouth as he looked at them. Karin seemed aware of it, glancing up at him briefly, but ignored it and turned slightly away.

  "Hello! You must be the writer who is moving into the Hall's place."

  Maggie looked over with a start to see a plump, white-haired woman in practical L.L. Bean skirt, blouse, and vest beaming at her. She introduced herself as Susan Larson, wife of the mayor. Maggie rose and shook her hand, and disclaimed the title of writer as having been unearned yet.

  "I'll be working on a book, but it's a math book, full of math games and puzzles for kids to play around with."

  "Oh, math! How clever you must be. Numbers, I'm afraid, have always escaped me. I never could balance my own checkbook." Maggie smiled a polite smile, having heard that kind of comment many times before, particularly from women of Mrs. Larson's age group. She suspected it was more an attitude drummed into them from childhood than an actual math disability, and sometimes wished she could gather them all into some kind of remedial support group. A "You Really Can Do Math" group. Her own mother, who kept the books for the family bakery but still claimed she had no head for figures, would be her first member.

  "I'm just so glad to be talking about something besides mountains and mining," Mrs. Larson said confidentially. "Since you're a newcomer, you won't have formed your opinion yet. I thought I'd better get to you before you started talking to others and choosing sides." The older woman's blue eyes twinkled, and she looked around with mock concern, as if one of Regina's picketers or one of Jack Warwick's people was likely to rush up and grab Maggie's ear any minute now.

  "A mayor's wife, and you don't like politics?" Maggie asked with a smile.

  "Isn't that always the way?" Mrs. Larson laughed. "But Tom doesn't mind, and I don't expect him to join me at my Garden Club meetings. I hope you like our little town, as much as you've seen of it, that is?"

  "I love it," Maggie enthused honestly, and Mrs. Larson's round face beamed. "Coming from a big city like Baltimore..." Maggie began, but never got to finish. A scream from the other side of the room snapped her attention from Mrs. Larson to the group at the refreshments table.

  Jack Warwick leaned heavily against the table. He clutched at his chest as he gasped for breath. His coffee mug still spun where it had landed on the floor.

  "He's having a heart attack! Call an ambulance!" someone shouted.


  "Oh my Lord," Mrs. Larson said, and left Maggie as she rushed over to help. Maggie saw the mayor pull out his cell phone, and several people helped Jack to the floor, loosening his tie and shirt, and generally doing what they could. Having no medical skills, no idea whatsoever of anything to do that would help, Maggie decided to stay back and out of the way.

  Dyna soon joined her, her eyes round with concern. "Wow, poor guy." She watched in silence for several moments, then couldn't help adding, "but I'll bet he smoked, and ate a lot of fatty foods." Maggie looked over at her health-conscious friend in surprise, but nodded, too overwhelmed for the moment to do anything else.

  The ambulance arrived amid wailing sirens, and within minutes they watched paramedics wheel Warwick out on the stretcher, oxygen mask over a grey face, an IV line attached to an arm. Maggie silently wished him good luck, then looked around at the faces of the people she had just begun to know that night. They were universally solemn, many looking as stunned as she felt. But something was missing. It took her a moment to realize what it was.

  She saw concern, but a distant concern, detached, the kind you would see on the faces of strangers watching a televised news report of an accident. But these were people who knew this man. One was even his wife. What Maggie realized she did not see was any sign of sorrow.

  CHAPTER 3

  The next morning, Maggie woke in her puffy yellow bed and stretched. Bright sun streamed through the window, telling her she had slept much later than her habitual 5:45 A.M. workday rising. Must remember to pull that shade at night, she thought with a smile, as she lifted her head enough to see the travel clock she had set up on the dresser. Nine-oh-five. A gust of wind blew snow from a nearby branch against the window panes, and Maggie snuggled deeper into the soft warmth of her flannel sheets and luxuriated in her leisure.