J.R. typically awakened slowly, and the next morning was no different. As awareness slowly penetrated his sleep-fogged mind, he felt wonderfully warm and comfortable snuggled into the downy softness of the mattress with a layer of warm blankets covering him. He did not move for a long time, content to linger quietly and allow his mind to drift a while longer.
Vaguely, he heard the thermostat kick in, bringing warm air into the room, and roused slightly, he turned over and pulled the covers over his head.
As he lay quietly enjoying the warmth of his bed, his mind wandered to the day before. He had had a wonderful time swimming and snowmobiling, and after supper he and Betty had joined Barnaby in playing Wahoo in the game room. Wahoo was a simple board game played by rolling a pair of dice, which dictated the number of steps each player could move marbles around the board. J.R. hadn�t seen a Wahoo board since he was a kid, and was surprised when Barnaby had found it among the other board games available at the resort.
A door slammed across the hall, jarring him fully awake, and he sat bolt upright, listening to the footfalls that moved down the corridor past his door. The stride was unmistakable, and his dropped back down on his pillow with a groan.
�Thanks, Barnaby,� he muttered.
Reaching down, he pulled the covers up again and closed his eyes, hoping to catch just a few more moments of sleep, but found himself unable to relax again. After a few minutes, he gave up and tossed back the covers. Pausing briefly on the edge of the bed to scratch his head and yawn, he stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the water for his shower.
Once dried and dressed, he opened the door and stepped into the corridor. He immediately smelled the wonderful aroma of hash brown potatoes and brewing coffee that drifted up the stairs.
With his stomach gnawing eagerly in response to the smells, he trotted down the stairs and followed the aroma into the kitchen, where Betty was standing in front of the counter top beating a bowl of eggs. The shredded potatoes were frying on the grill. �Mm, that smells good,� he said.
�Good morning, J.R.,� she smiled. �How would you like your omelet?�
�Omelets this morning, eh?� he asked. �I may move in and let you cook for me all the time!�
�Fat chance,� she laughed. �You don�t really think I eat like this all the time, do you?�
�You mean you don�t?� he asked, feigning disappointment.
�Your omelet?�
�That�s right, change the subject. Surprise me.�
�I found some Monterrey Jack cheese and some avocados, so I�m making a Mexican omelet for myself,� she suggested.
�Sounds good. Make mine the same.�
After pouring the eggs for three omelets, Betty skillfully turned the potatoes, which were now a lovely golden brown on one side. They sizzled and popped on the grill, and J.R. felt his stomach begin to gnaw eagerly as he leaned over them to inhale deeply.
To take his mind off his stomach, he asked, �Where�s Barnaby?�
�I think he�s in the lobby. I�m not sure what he�s up to though. Why don�t you get three plates out of that cabinet over there? It won�t take these eggs long to cook. And when you�re done with that, you can get three coffee mugs.�
Opening the huge cabinet where the plates were stored in tall stacks, J.R. lifted three from the top and spread them on the counter top for her, then located the coffee mugs and set them beside the plates. Then, thinking he was done, he stood back and watched.
�Okay. Why don�t you pour the coffee?� she suggested.
With an amused smile, he took the coffee pot off the warmer, and while he poured the steaming black liquid into the mugs, Betty scooped up three servings of hash browns onto the plates, and then lifted the omelets beside them. Together, they carried them into the dining room, and J.R. went down the hall to the lobby to summon Barnaby.
He found the aging detective standing quietly at the front window, gazing out across the snowy parking lot, deep in thought. The younger man hesitated, reluctant to disturb him, but finally said quietly, �Barnaby? Are you okay?�
Barnaby turned around and smiled in greeting. �I�m all right, Jedediah. Since you saw them clearing off the highway yesterday, I just thought someone else would have showed up by now. I�m just a little puzzled why we�re still by ourselves.�
�Yeah, I kind of thought the same thing,� J.R. agreed. He gestured over his shoulder toward the kitchen. �Well, breakfast is ready.�
�I�ll be right there.�
J.R. returned to the dining room, and pulled out a chair beside Betty and sat down. He dropped the napkin on his lap and picked up his fork. �This looks great, Betty.� He cut off a piece and tasted it. �Mm, delicious. Are you sure you won�t reconsider?�
�Reconsider what?� Barnaby asked as he entered the room and sat down.
�I�ve been trying to convince Betty to fix breakfast for me every morning, but she doesn�t seem too excited about that idea.�
�Well, Betty, if you do that for him, then you�ll have to do it for me too,� Barnaby told her.
�Sorry, guys. After we leave this place, or after the chef comes back, I�m retiring from short-order cook! I just hope I don�t get my fingers slapped for invading his space.�
�Well, we had to eat,� J.R. reminded her. �If they didn�t want us in their kitchen, they should have left someone to feed us.�
�Cooks can be pretty territorial,� she told him. �I�ll let you explain it to him.�
He shrugged and continued eating, unconcerned. �Okay.�
After breakfast was completed and the dishes washed and returned to their cabinets, Betty and J.R. once again made their way down the corridor to the equipment room, and Betty moved slowly along the walls and shelves, observing the down-hill skis, the cross-country skis, the ice skates, and other items for the enjoyment of the guests.
�Look! They have ice skates!� she said. �I wonder where they skate. You don�t suppose they have a rink tucked away somewhere in a basement or something, do you?�
�There�s probably a pond around here somewhere, but it�s covered up with snow right now. Why? Do you skate?�
�I used to when I was a kid,� she replied.
�Really? You never said anything about that.�
She smiled. �It was a long time ago, J.R. I�d probably break something if I tried it now. I like to watch it on TV though.�
�And dream of being an Olympic champion?� he teased as he lifted two sets of cross-country skis from their holder.
She laughed. �I was never that good.�
�I bet you were!� he contradicted good-naturedly. �I bet you could skate circles around your friends.�
She blushed slightly, indicating that he was correct, and smiled. �Are those mine?� she asked, gesturing toward one of the pairs of skis.
He passed them to her, and they put them on and took a pair of ski poles and inserted their hands through the loops and wrapped their gloved hands around the grips. Walking in the skis was awkward as they moved toward the door, and J.R. unintentionally placed the tip of one ski on top of the other, which nearly made him fall. He grabbed wildly for one of the chairs that were scattered around the room for the guests to use to assist them in putting on their gear, and steadied himself again as he moved the ski back to the appropriate position.
�This is like having six foot long feet!� he quipped. �A guy could get hurt trying to walk in these things.�
He finally reached the door and opened it. The air was bitter cold, but there was no breeze to increase the wind chill, so they stepped carefully outside onto the snow, and he closed the door behind them.
�Okay,� he said, �I guess we just have to get into a rhythm here. You want to go first?�
�No; you�re doing fine. I�ll just follow you.�
�Here goes.�
He pushed off with his poles as he slid his left foot forward, and moved toward the tree line, using a skating motion. The snow was too deep to provide smooth gliding motion in the yard, but as they entered the tree line, where the tree limbs caught much of the snow as it had fallen, it was not quite as deep, allowing them to get into a more comfortable rhythm.
As with the day before, both of them were awed by the remarkable beauty of the landscape. The sun was shining brightly today, and the blanket of snow glittered brightly. Ice and snow sparkled on the tree limbs.
Skiing across country was a lot different than the ease of riding a snowmobile, and J.R. was soon gasping for breath, blowing great bursts of frosty steam into the air. Finally, he glided to a stop. �I have to rest,� he panted, leaning on his poles for support.
�Thank you!� Betty panted, pulling up along side. �This is hard work!�
J.R. didn�t answer; he was too busy catching his breath.
After a few moments, Betty said, �I guess cross country skiing carries less risk of broken bones, but you have to be careful not to overdo it! Its great exercise, though,� she added, looking at the bright side.
After resting a few minutes, they set out again.
They soon tired out again, and stopped to rest, one of many more rest stops to follow as their bodies engaged in the unfamiliar activity. During one of their rest stops, J.R. heard a distant rumbling, like thunder, and he turned toward it, wondering if another storm was moving in. Snow was moving rapidly down the side of the mountain.
�Hey, look!� he said. �Avalanche!�
They watched was the snow, which had been dislodged somewhere on a high peak, rolled down the side of the rugged mountain. It was too high and too far away to cause any damage to the lower resorts and ski lodges, so they watched in fascination until it gradually slid to a stop.
�You don�t suppose anyone was up there, do you?� Betty asked.
�Nah, it was in the higher elevations. No one skis that high up. It might also have been planned. They do that sometimes if there is a place where the snow is unstable. Well, ready to go again?�
She wasn�t quite ready, but she nodded anyway. �Sure.�
They set out again.
Two hours later, they skied back into the resort yard, and J.R. pulled up suddenly. �Hey, look at that!� he exclaimed. �There�s another car under the port.�
Betty looked, and saw a small car parked near the front door under the protection of the port. �J.R. you have great eyes,� she commented once again. �I never would have noticed it until we got closer.�
�Comes with being an observant detective!� he told her with a smile.
Together, they skied back to the equipment door, and removed their skis, then returned them to their proper place. Then they hurried down the corridor, eager to see if the car belonged to new guests or staff, removing their wraps as they walked.
The door to one of the recreational activity rooms was open, and Barnaby was engaged in a game of shuffleboard with a woman who appeared to be in her sixties. An extremely attractive young woman of about 21 sat on the sidelines, watching.
J.R.�s chocolate colored eyes lit up at the sight of the young woman, and Betty hid her smile behind her hand as they stepped into the room.
�So, who�s winning?� J.R. asked, announcing their presence.
The young woman turned around and flashed a lovely smile at the young detective, who responded by offering his most practiced charming smile. The older woman and Barnaby also turned around, but J.R. hardly noticed.
�My cousin Jedediah,� Barnaby said by way of introduction, failing to notice that J.R. cringed as it was spoken, �and my daughter in law Betty; this is Hillary Anderson, and her daughter, Vicky.�
J.R. stepped forward, offering his hand to the young woman. �I�m very pleased to meet you, Vicky,� he said. �But please call me J.R.�
�Oh, but I like the name Jedediah,� she told him. �It has such an �old world� feel about it.�
�It�s old, all right,� he agreed with a grimace.
The young woman wrapped her hands around her long hair in back and lifted it up from her sweater. It crackled and popped with static. She ran her hand down the length of it, trying to remove the static from the golden brown strands, unaware that J.R. was admiring the long tresses with rapt attention. �I just hate all this static electricity,� she said with annoyance. �It makes my hair stick to my sweater!�
�I know exactly what you mean!� J.R. agreed.
Barnaby grinned, thinking that J.R. would have agreed with her if she said that the sun rose in the west.
�So, how long have you been here?� Betty asked.
�We arrived about an hour ago, and we were so surprised to find the place deserted! Then your father in law came out of one of the rooms, and he was wonderful about helping us get our room keys. We were supposed to be here yesterday, but we got snowed in at some tiny little town west of here, and couldn�t go any farther. We had to find a motel, but they were so filled up with other travelers like us who were caught in the blizzard that we had trouble finding rooms. Mom and I had to double up, and Glenn --�
At that moment, a young man entered the room, and the young woman�s eyes brightened at the sight of him. She extended her hand toward him, and he moved closer and took it in a very familiar fashion. J.R.�s eyes darted from one to the other.
�This is my soon-to-be husband, Glenn Taylor,� she said. �He actually had to double up with a complete stranger!�
�Well, it was the only way to get a bed for the night,� Glenn explained. �I was afraid I�d be sleeping on the couch in the motel lobby!� He extended his free hand toward Betty in a friendly fashion. �Pleased to meet you.� He cast a decidedly wary glance at J.R., as if to ascertain his intentions, and his other hand tightened possessively around Vicky�s hand and he dipped his head in a polite nod rather than extend his hand.
J.R.�s face had fallen at the news that the beautiful young woman was engaged, but Betty recognized the name and smiled as she accepted the young man�s handshake. �Oh, you�re the ones who are getting married! We saw the reception room. Looks like its going to be a beautiful wedding.�
�Yes,� Vicky said, gazing at her fianc� with adoring eyes that made J.R. want to be sick. �The wedding is tomorrow, but I don�t know if anyone is going to be able to make it. We weren�t expecting this storm!�
�None of us were,� Betty agreed. �We were lucky to make it in before it got too bad to travel.�
�So, you�re going to honeymoon here?� J.R. asked, recovering from the disappointment enough to join the conversation.
�No, actually we�re just having the wedding here. Mom�s going to stay here with some of her friends, if they ever make it, but Glenn and I are going on up to Tahoe Lodge, near the lake, and we�ll honeymoon there.�
�We�ll be leaving right after the reception,� Glenn added, his eyes lingering on J.R., but the younger detective ignored it.
�That�s nice. I�m sure you two will be very happy.� He brought his hands together and rubbed them, as if planning some mischief. �Well, Betty and I just got back from some cross country skiing, and we�ve worked up an appetite. What do you say we start getting lunch ready?�
Barnaby nodded. �Sounds good to me.� He leaned his shuffleboard cue against the wall. �We can finish our game later.�
�I am rather hungry,� Glenn said as they started down the corridor toward the dining room. �So, is there a cook on duty, or do we have to fix our own?�
�I�ve been doing most of the cooking,� Betty told them.
�Mom and I can help,� Vicky offered. �That is, if you don�t think the resort people will mind.�
�Well, we would have pretty hungry by now if we hadn�t,� J.R. told her.
They entered the dining room, and the newcomers looked around, curiously. �Oh, this is really nice,� Vicky said, approvingly. �So quaint!�
Now that he had accepted her impending marriage, something about her voice was starting to rub J.R. the wrong way. There was a whiny quality that he knew would get on his nerves if he was around her too much. Glenn didn�t seem to mind, though, for he was reluctant to release her hand when she started to follow her mother and Betty into the kitchen.
�I�ll be right out here,� he told her.
She gave him another adoring smile, then followed the other women into the kitchen, while the three men sat down at a table near the window to get acquainted.
For several moments, the three men just sat and shifted their weight in their chairs, cleared their throats, and glanced around the room or outside the window.
Finally, Glenn asked, �So, how long have you been here?�
�Two days,� J.R. replied. �We barely beat the blizzard in.�
Glenn lifted his eyes to the high-beamed ceiling, then shifted his gaze to the snow through the window. �Must have been really creepy being in this place alone listening to the blizzard outside.�
�Yeah, pretty much,� J.R. admitted. �We have been trying to figure out where everyone has gone. There are no records or anything to indicate what happened to them.�
�Wow, where do you think they are?�
�We don�t know,� Barnaby said. �Most likely, much of the staff was unable to come in from town due to the weather and road conditions ��
�Oh, man! You got that right!� Glenn exclaimed. Now that the conversation was going well, he was getting revved up. �We had trouble getting our car through the drifts! We actually got stuck a few times. I had to push while Vicky sat in the driver�s seat. She kept trying to gun the engine, though, and it just made the wheels spin. She�s not used to driving on snow and ice. I kept telling her ---�
�Are you?� J.R. asked, deciding suddenly that Glenn was as irritating as his fianc�e.
Glenn stopped talking, annoyed that he had been interrupted. �Am I what?�
�Used to driving on snow.�
�Well, no, not that much. How about you?� The question sounded like a challenge, and J.R. was happy to rise to the occasion.
�Somewhat. I grew up in Chicago.�
�Oh? You have a lot of snow there?�
J.R. glanced at Barnaby, who lifted his eyebrows. �Just a little,� J.R. replied with a trace of sarcasm.
Glenn dismissed him, determined to dominate the conversation again. �Anyway, as I was saying, I was sure glad to get away from that motel, I�ll tell you that! Man! Was it ever crowded! You wouldn�t believe all the people there! There were actually people in sleeping bags on the floor in the lobby! We were just lucky to get there when we did, or we would have been on the floor, too. And that�s if they let us in at all! And it was sure a good thing they had a restaurant across the street! They were packed, too, though. It was nearly forty five minutes before they seated us, and then another hour and half before our dinner was served! I gave that manager a piece of my mind, I�ll tell you that!�
�I�m sure they were doing the best they could,� Barnaby said, patiently. �After all, they probably had two or three times the number of customers they would normally.�
The young man looked indignant at being contradicted. �Well, they knew about the storm, so they should have been prepared and called in extra help. After all, it wasn�t our fault that they had so many customers!�
�And maybe some of their staff got caught in the storm and couldn�t make it in,� Barnaby retorted, keeping his voice calm. "Sometimes, unforseen things just happen and can't be avoided."
�Well, they should have been prepared!� the young man repeated. �I was starving by the time our food came!�
Barnaby smiled with that same patient expression that Glenn was finding patronizing. �Oh, I�m sure you weren�t starving.�
J.R. suddenly cocked his head toward the door, listening carefully, certain that he had heard something in the lobby. �Did anyone hear that?�
�Hear what?� Barnaby asked, grateful for any deviation from the current conversation.
�I�m not sure. I thought I heard a noise coming from the lobby.�
Barnaby and Glenn were quiet for a moment, listening, then Glenn dismissed him. �Nah, I don�t hear anything. Anyway, the hotel manager tried to talk us into staying another night, but I don�t think he was as concerned about our safety as he was the fact that he was getting a sudden windfall of guests! I bet there were a hundred people there crowded into thirty guest rooms and the lobby! Even with the discount he gave us for doubling up, he was still coming out way ahead! I mean, there must be some law against forcing your guests to double up like that!�
"Would it have been more ethical for the manager to have turned them out into the weather to fend for themselves?" Barnaby asked. "Sounds to me like he handled the situation the only way he could."
Glenn's eyebrows jammed together in an annoyed frown. Most people tended to just go along with whatever he said to avoid a debate with him, but this Barnaby Jones seemed unwilling to back down.
J.R. was also frowning, but for a different reason. He was trying to concentrate on listening for the sound he had heard, and was finding it frustrating that Mr. Motor-mouth was barely pausing for a breath. �I�m sure I heard something,� he insisted.
�Maybe we�d better check it out,� Barnaby suggested.
�Check what out?� Glenn asked. �There�s still a lot of snow piled up on the road coming up from the highway. There�s no way anyone else could get up to this place.�
�You did,� J.R. reminded him.
�Well, yeah, but ��
Barnaby and J.R. stood up, but as they turned toward the door, they saw a man enter the room. He was tall and ethnic in appearance, with dark hair and a dark complexion.
He flashed a pleasant smile, his mouth filled with very white teeth against his dark complexion. �Well, I see we have guests. I�m glad you went ahead and let yourselves in. How long have you been here?�
�Two days,� Barnaby replied. �You are?�
�I�m Jose Aguilero, the chief chef of this resort. I�m sorry I�ve been unable to get to work since the blizzard. It took me a full day to dig my car out of the driveway! I hope you have been finding something to eat?�
�Yes,� Barnaby smiled. �We have. But the women are going to be very happy to see you. We�re the only ones here, though, us three men and three women. Where is the rest of the staff and guests?�
�The guests and some of the staff took a day trip into Reno Saturday morning, but that was the day the blizzard started, so they must have gotten snowed in. The rest of the staff was given the time off while they were away, but like me, they were unable to get back to work. It may be tomorrow before they can get the roads cleared off enough for the bus to get through. The roads are treacherous!�
�That�s for sure,� Glenn agreed, feeling vindicated by the chef�s description of the road conditions.
�A day trip to Reno?� J.R. asked, casting an amused glance at Barnaby. �That�s where everyone has been the past two days?�
�Yes. What did you think? That they were all murdered or something, like in that movie?�
J.R�s smile broadened and the twinkle in his eyes danced merrily, but Barnaby shook his head in his casual way, as if they had expected nothing out of the ordinary. �Nah, we figured it was probably something like that,� he said as he sat down again.
Glenn had fallen silent for a moment, an expression of intense concentration on his face as he tried to think what movie the chef was talking about. J.R. could almost see the light bulb come on over his head. �Oh! You mean The Shining? I wanted to see that, but I couldn�t get Vicky to go.�
Jose turned toward the kitchen door, where the smells of food were starting to drift into the dining area. �I�m afraid I am a bit protective when it comes to my kitchen, so I must relieve them. Excuse me.�
The chef pushed open the door to the kitchen, and disappeared from view.
J.R. could contain his laughter no longer, and Barnaby joined him. �A day trip to Reno!� the younger Jones exclaimed as he sank back into his chair. �They were all on a day trip to Reno!�
Their laughter was becoming almost hysterical, and Glenn looked from one man to the other, a puzzled expression on his face. �What�s funny about that?� he asked. �Lodges frequently arrange day trips for their guests. I mean, that�s hardly anything unique.�
�A private joke,� Barnaby replied, still laughing.
Glenn looked a bit offended that he wasn�t being let in on the joke, but before he could comment, the door opened and the three women entered the dining room.
Betty was smiling, happily. �So, we now have a professional chef. I guess that means I can officially retire from the duties.�
Vicky squealed with excitement, causing J.R. to cringe at the shrillness of it. �Ooo! Look!� she said, pointing toward the window, where the beautiful mountain ranges could be seen in the distance. �Isn�t it beautiful? Let�s have a closer look!� Grabbing Glenn by the hand, she dragged him from his chair so abruptly that he nearly fell before he could get his feet under him.
"Easy, honey!" he exclaimed.
"You've got to see this!" she told him.
Submitting to the pull on his hand, he followed her to the window for a better view. Hillary joined them.
Betty sank down in the chair that Glenn had vacated, and placed her hand on J.R.�s arm, leaning closer to speak to him privately. �J.R., be glad Glenn got to her first! She would drive you nuts! She talks all the time! Never shuts up! I�m exhausted from just listening to her! And that voice!� She rolled her eyes. �My goodness, a little of that goes a long way!�
�Then her and Glenn are well suited to each other, because he never shuts up either!� J.R. told her.
�Actually, they�ll probably drive each other nuts,� Barnaby told them. �This marriage will probably end in divorce within two years because each one will try to out-talk the other one!�
The Jones family began to laugh again, drawing curious glances from the trio at the window. J.R. waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. �Private joke,� he told them.
The trio at the window whispered furiously, presumably about the strange detectives and their fondness for private jokes. Gradually the laughter died down at the table.
�Did you hear what happened to the other guests?� J.R. asked, laughter bubbling up inside him again.
�No, what?�
�They took a day trip to Reno!�
Betty burst out laughing again. �And here we were, wondering what mysteries were lurking behind every door! I hardly slept at all that first night because I was afraid that something bad had happened! The Case of the Missing Guests turned out to be The Case that Wasn�t!�
~~ The End ~~