Free Norway to Hide by Maddy Hunter

Atlantic?”
    Awkward silence. Downcast eyes. Self-conscious foot shuffling.
    “Emily?” Margi looked puzzled. “My airplane window wouldn’t open. Do you think it was defective?”
    Officer Rajanen dug out his notepad again. “Please, could I have a description of Ms. Thum other than her height?”
    “She wears them real stylish high heels,” said Nana. “But she’s gotta order through the catalog on account a her feet are so big.”
    “Great legs,” said Gus.
    “Huge bazongas,” said Vern.
    “Skintight clothes,” said Reno.
    Those lechers. They did want to sleep with her!
    Tilly rapped her walking stick on the floor. “I’ll give you her description, Officer. She’s mesocephalic and leptoprosopic, with no alveolar prognathism. Her nose is leptorrhine with a high nasal root. She has a non-Mongoloid eye with no epicanthic fold, and herhair is shoulder-length and brown, wavy as opposed to woolly or peppercorn. Is that exact enough?”
    Vern scratched his head. “Did she mention the huge bazongas? I couldn’t tell.”
    The door swung open and Jackie clickclacked breathlessly into the conference room, looking as if she’d just run a marathon. “The front desk clerk told me you were having a meeting in here.” She sank into a chair and fanned her face. “So, what have I missed?”
     
    “I can’t figure how the locals sleep when it’s so light out.” Nana pulled the drape back on my bedroom window. She’d phoned a couple of hours ago, asking for an over-the-counter sleep aid, but when she’d arrived at my door with Tilly and George, I’d realized the visit had had more to do with keeping me company than coping with sleeplessness. “Looks more like six p.m. than one a.m. You s’pose that’s why we’re all awake?”
    “I’m too creeped out to sleep.” I sat cross-legged on my bed, hugging my pillow. “Every time I close my eyes, I see Portia sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling.”
    “Try this,” said George, who was stretched out on Jackie’s bed. “Keep your eyes open.”
    This is what I loved about men. They were so basic.
    “Have you thought about your plan of action should the police find evidence that implicates Jackie or Bernice in Portia’s murder?” asked Tilly. She sat on the settee with her feet elevated to relieve the swelling in her ankles. “Would you stay in Helsinki with them or fly to Lapland with us tomorrow?”
    Annika had announced that her tour company was contractually bound to fulfill their obligation to their guests, so despite the misfortune with Portia, the tour would continue and refunds would not be given to those who terminated their trip prematurely.
    “My escort’s manual isn’t exactly clear about where my duty lies. It kind of skips over all the scenarios where tour guests get jailed for murder.”
    “Call Mr. Erickson at the bank,” Nana suggested. “He’ll—” Her voice faded suddenly. “What am I thinkin’? The bank’s not there no more.”
    “If the bank’s not there, does that mean our travel club’s not there either?” asked George.
    I caught my breath as reality smacked me in the face. He was right. Without the bank to sponsor it, there was no seniors’ travel club, which meant—“Oh, my God. I have no job.”
    “I imagine all of Windsor City’s Main Street merchants are facing that same dilemma today,” said Tilly.
    “You’ve got somethin’ more valuable than a job, dear,” Nana soothed. “You got your young man.”
    “Not yet, I don’t. How are we going to get married? I have no church, no restaurant, no gown. My maid of honor has both legs in a cast and won’t be able to walk for months.”
    Nana waved her hand dismissively. “There’s no problem bigger’n the two of us, Emily, ’specially when we put our heads together.”
    “Mom has put herself in charge of making alternate wedding plans while I’m away,” I added.
    Nana’s face froze in horror. “Now we got problems.”
    The hallway door banged