RESORT TO MURDER by Mary Ellen Hughes

coffee, and Kleenex a fraction of an
inch closer on the coffee table in front of her. The aroma of
perking coffee drifted in from the kitchen. Lori's mother looked up
and stared blankly at Maggie.
    "Mrs. Basker, I'm Maggie Olenski. I
taught...."
    Mrs. Basker's blank face relaxed to a soft,
sad-eyed smile. She stood up with a slight unsteadiness and reached
out to Maggie. "Miss Olenski. Yes, I remember. How kind. Lori
always... Marlene, would you get a cup for Miss Olenski?" she
turned to the woman at her left, and asked in a small voice. "Come,
sit down.” She motioned to Maggie. "So kind."
    Maggie took the vacated spot on the sofa and
Lori's mother sat beside her. The older woman pushed at wisps of
grey-brown hair around her face and immediately offered some of the
small sandwiches and cookies on the table with anxious, jerky
movements. Maggie hesitated, then saw that accepting something
would please the woman and took a vanilla wafer.
    "Lori was a very special student of mine,"
Maggie began, "a very special girl. I'm so sorry....” She broke
off, her voice unsteady, and Mrs. Basker gripped her hand in both
of her own.
    "I know, I know, dear."
    Maggie looked into this grieving mother's
eyes, and saw the pain deep inside them, thinly veiled by a
lifetime of conventions and habits, habits that placed immediate
concern for her visitor over her own distress. She felt that was
harder to take than a flood of tears would have been.
    Marlene emerged from the kitchen carrying a
cup of coffee for Maggie and set it on the table in front of her.
Maggie gave a quick smile of thanks, and Lori's mother moved the
sugar closer, half rising when she thought Maggie might want cream
which wasn't there, only relaxing when Maggie assured her she
didn't need it.
    A tall man whose freckled face resembled
Lori's more than her mother's stood near the doorway of the
kitchen, and Maggie recognized him as Mr. Basker. He was quietly
listening to the murmurs of a shorter man clad in overalls whom he
gazed at with solemn, sunken eyes.
    Mrs. Basker cleared her throat gently and
said, "Did you drive all the way up here from Baltimore, dear?"
    "Not today. I arrived yesterday, to stay at
the Highview."
    "Oh, I see.” Mrs. Basker seemed to be
struggling to place that piece of information into its proper
niche.
    Maggie took a deep breath. "Mrs. Basker, I'm
the one who found Lori."
    "Oh!” Her hand rose to her mouth as the
thought of all that that implied became clear. Maggie saw her
grapple with it, feeling some of her anguish and wishing she hadn't
had to be the cause of it. The fact would have come out sometime
though, she knew, in news reports, or hearsay, and perhaps it was
just as well to get it over with. Who could say? All she knew was
this woman, this family, had a long road of healing ahead, and
maybe it was best to clear it now of as much debris as
possible.
    After what seemed like a long silence, Mrs.
Basker's hand reached out for Maggie's again. "I'm sorry for you,
but I'm glad for Lori's sake that you were there for her. I'd like
to think she knew, somehow. She always liked you so much.” She
looked at Maggie with pain-filled eyes, the veil now dropped, and
whispered, "Who killed her? Who killed my little girl?” Two large
tears moved slowly down her face, and Maggie could only shake her
head helplessly.
    She didn't know.
     
    As more people arrived at the Basker's,
Maggie rose to leave. Some quick introductions, a few more words,
then she made her way to the door, escorted by the same large woman
who had admitted her, Lori's Aunt Rose. Aunt Rose came out onto the
front porch with her, pulling the door closed behind her, thanking
her for coming.
    "You staying on at the Highview?" Rose asked
as Maggie started to step down.
    "Yes, at least for now."
    "It's a nice place," Rose said politely, her
face not quite agreeing with her words. "Did the town a lot of good
when it got built up there.” Rose heaved a sigh and settled down
onto an old metal