Death of a Second Wife (A Dotsy Lamb Travel Mystery) Read Online Free

we’ve been slammed by the recession.”
    The college where I teach ancient and medieval history was on spring break until the end of the week. Patrick and Erin had scheduled their wedding to coincide with Patrick’s and my own time off. “We have a hiring freeze in effect, so natural attrition has loaded up our classes to the exploding point. I’ve had to take on an extra section of European history and we’ve all been forced to take a week’s unpaid sabbatical. That’s why it was so easy for me to get next week off. I can go back to Florence for a few days , but my next pay check will be microscopic.”
    “Sorry, Mom. This trip is a burden on you, isn’t it?”
    “No problem.”
    I diverted my eyes quickly, before Patrick had a chance to study them for clues as to whether that statement was true or not. I had already used a credit card to buy that jacket after vowing to limit myself on this trip to the cash in my wallet.
    Across the meadow north of the boulder where we sat, the trail curved upward and vanished behind a pile of boulders. In the opposite direction, a dense stand of conifers cast the slope in shadow, darkening to black a few yards in, like Hansel and Gretel’s forest. I glimpsed the corner of a brown structure, deep within the trees. A gingerbread house? I asked.
    Patrick stood and shaded his eyes, peering in the direction I pointed. “Believe it or not, it’s an elevator. Juergen and his neighbors have had an elevator shaft dug through the mountain. Down below, it comes out near LaMotte. On this end, it’s disguised as a cutsy-poo little shack.”
    “So that’s how you got up here from the church, you cheater! You didn’t hike up, you took the lift.”
    “Uh-oh. Busted.”
    “Why didn’t Stephanie tell me about this? I had to take a cab up the side of Sheer Terror Canyon.”
    “When we have time, I’ll take you. But it’s complicated the first time you do it. Finding the entrance down below without divulging where it is—you have to know where to look. They don’t want just anybody using it.”
    I had heard the Swiss were clever, but an elevator through a mountain?
    * * * * *
    The landing outside my bedroom door overlooked the living room where everyone had gathered for drinks before dinner. I took in the scene from my lofty perch as I inserted and fastened my hoop earrings by feel. A real fire crackled in the stone fireplace. Upholstered furniture in a maroon plaid and a large leather armchair with a deep crater in the cushion sat angled toward big picture windows along the south side of the room.
    Patrick and Babs stood at those windows with their backs to the rest of the room. They each held a wine glass. Patrick’s free hand swept across the panorama outside. He pointed to something in the distance and Babs’s head turned, following his finger. In profile, her face looked like a cameo.
    At the fireplace, Stephanie was talking to Erin, my future daughter-in-law. Erin’s slight figure, in a loose knit sweater and black slacks, stood facing the fire, her arms folded across her waist, her head down. Stephanie, by contrast, faced Erin directly, her hand on Erin’s shoulder. I watched them for a minute. It seemed as if Stephanie was doing all the talking.
    The third twosome in the room down below was Juergen and—who else—Chet Lamb. They each held glasses, but Chet’s appeared to be an old fashioned glass with amber contents, undoubtedly his usual scotch and soda. Chet looked small from this angle. He had lost weight. His jacket hung awkwardly from drooping shoulders and his cheeks looked flabby. His eyes darted restlessly around, as if he wasn’t paying attention to whatever Juergen was saying.
    Ah, well. Deep breath.
    It was hard not to make a grand entrance with the stairs from my little balcony leading down into the middle of the living room, and heads did turn toward me as I descended. I concentrated on not missing a step. Juergen asked what I wanted to drink and left the