Mary Daheim - Suture Self - A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

offered. “He had to have the approval of the hospital

administration. How else could he get himself in here

with a fake injury?”

Judith was pondering the question when the phone

rang. It was Arlene, and she was highly agitated. “I

hope there’s room for me in that hospital when I have

a nervous breakdown in the next ten minutes,” she an- SUTURE SELF

291

nounced in a voice that shook. “Do you have any idea

how worried I’ve been about Joe?”

Judith hung her head. “I’m so sorry. But I didn’t

know myself if he was going to . . . It’s only in the last

few minutes that I got good news from Mike.”

“He’ll live?” Arlene asked in a breathless voice.

“Yes,” Judith replied. “He’s improved enought to

complain. How’s everything at your end?”

“Fine,” Arlene replied, the tremor no longer in her

voice. “By the way, I got another call from FedEx this

morning. I canceled the pigs, but now they have a fiftypound case of Granny Goodness chocolates awaiting

delivery. They wanted to let us know that if the snow

melts enough, they may be able to bring it to the B&B

by late afternoon.”

Judith was astounded. “I never ordered any . . .” The

light dawned. “Mother,” she said under her breath,

glancing again at Renie.

“You ordered them for your mother,” Arlene broke

in. “That’s lovely, Judith. So thoughtful of you to give

her a little treat while you’re not able to be with her.

Let’s hope that the streets are passable in a few hours.

Oops!” she cried. “I must run. There goes Ernest. Now

how did he manage to get up there? He could fall in

my minestrone soup!”

Arlene hung up.

“Is there no end to my troubles?” Judith wailed,

holding her head. “I finally get some encouraging

news about Joe, but now I realize that Mother has been

using my credit card to order all those weird items.

Only she would put me in debt for fifty pounds of

Granny Goodness chocolates.”

“Oh, dear,” Renie said, obviously trying not to

laugh. “That’s awful.”

292

Mary Daheim

“And Ernest is still on the loose,” Judith lamented.

“Damn this weather—I want those Pettigrew people to

leave my B&B and take their stupid snake with them.”

“Maybe they will today,” Renie said. “The airport

closing must have screwed up their travel plans.”

“I don’t care,” Judith groaned. “They never should

have brought the snake into Hillside Manor.”

“If they’d delivered the pigs, they might have eaten

Ernest,” Renie said brightly.

Judith gave Renie a dirty look. “It’s not funny. And

how am I supposed to make a speedy recovery if I’m

beset with all these horrible problems? My health is

probably beginning a downhill descent into my early

demise.”

“Speaking of which,” Renie said, “I’m curious. I

thought only really healthy people could get cornea

transplants.”

As the silent orderly came in with the cousins’

lunches, Judith gave Renie a puzzled look. “What are

you talking about?”

Renie withheld her answer until the orderly had

gone. “Jim Randall,” she said, scrutinizing the food on

her tray. “I may be wrong, and of course I have no idea

what the demand is for cornea transplants, but if he’s

as big a mess as everybody claims, how did he get so

high on the recipient list?”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Judith admitted,

also staring at the three mounds of multicolored food

on her plate. “I think these are salads, by the way.”

“Like Donner & Blitzen Department Store has in

their tearoom?” Renie said. “Those salads are really

good. My favorite is the one with shrimp.”

Judith sampled a bite from the mound that was primarily white. “This could be potato salad.”

SUTURE SELF

293

Renie followed her cousin’s lead. “It could also be

library paste. Oddly, I used to like library paste when I

was a kid. Sometimes I’d ask to be kept in for recess

just so I could be alone and eat the paste.”

“You also ate erasers, as I recall,” Judith said, trying

the mostly green salad next. “If you could eat stuff that

really wasn’t edible, why can’t you eat hospital food?”

She swallowed the mouthful of green and let out a startled cry. “Mrrff! That’s not very good.” Judith choked

twice before she could get whatever it was down into

her digestive tract.

“I refuse to try the red stuff,” Renie declared. “I’m

sure it has tomato aspic in it. I hate tomato aspic. These

so-called salads should be taken out and shot. Maybe

they’re wholesome, possibly even nutritious, but to

me, they’re an insult. I’m personally offended by being

forced to consider this ersatz meal as food.”

Judith gazed inquiringly at Renie. “For once, I almost wish you’d say all that nonsense again.”

“Huh?” Renie looked surprised.

“I think,” Judith said deliberately, “you may have

just enlightened me as to the killer’s identity.”

NINETEEN

RENIE WAS AMAZED by Judith’s theory. She was even

more astonished by the alleged motive. “What,” she

asked in an awestruck voice, “are you going to do

about it? You have absolutely no evidence.”

“That’s the problem,” Judith said, looking worried. “Not to mention that the whole thing’s so crazy

I can’t be absolutely sure. If only Joe had seen who

attacked him.”

“DNA,” Renie put in. “There’s got to be some

trace of the killer in our car.”

“That doesn’t prove that person was the killer,”

Judith pointed out.

“You’re right.” Renie scowled at the salad

mounds on her plate, then dumped them in the

wastebasket. “I’m thinking, honest.”

Judith set the luncheon tray aside and picked up

the phone. “I’m not going to eat this slop, so I’ll call

Woody instead.”

Woody was about to leave for the hospital to see

Joe. Although he tried to sound enthusiastic about

Judith’s idea, a note of skepticism lingered in his

mellow voice. “I’ll certainly have the Joneses’

Camry checked out. Don’t let Bill drive it anywhere

until we’ve finished.”

SUTURE SELF

295

Judith passed the message along to Renie. “That’s

fine,” Renie said in a doleful tone. “Bill’s probably

frozen into a grape-flavored Popsicle by now anyway.”

“It’s above freezing,” Judith pointed out, “or it

wouldn’t be thawing so much.”

The silent orderly came in to remove the cousins’

trays. As usual, he made no comment, not even when

he saw that Judith’s lunch was virtually untouched and

Renie’s was lying in the wastebasket. For the first time,

Judith noticed that his name tag read “Pearson.” Assuming it was his surname, she called out to him as he

started to leave.

“Mr. Pearson?”

Even though he wasn’t through the door, the orderly

didn’t stop.

“That’s rude,” Judith declared as Heather Chinn entered the room, seeking vital signs. “Say,” she addressed the nurse, “why won’t that orderly, Mr.

Pearson, talk to me? Does he disapprove of us?”

Heather gave Judith a gentle smile. “Pearson is his