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

MARY DAHEIM

Suture

SELF

Contents

ONE

JUDITH GROVER MCMONIGLE Flynn took

one look at the newspaper…

1

TWO

JUDITH’S SURGERY WAS scheduled for

eight-thirty on Monday. Renie’s was…

16

THREE

IT WAS ALMOST a quarter of an hour

before

the…

33

FOUR

NO ONE HAD died by morning. Judith awoke

after

a…

49

FIVE

JUDITH WASN’T SURPRISED by Addison

Kirby’s declaration. It only confirmed…

68

SIX

JOE AND BILL arrived shortly after

three o’clock. Both had…

87

SEVEN

TEN MINUTES LATER, Dr. Garnett surprised

the cousins with a professional…

99

EIGHT

“HOW,” JUDITH DEMANDED, “does a car

that’s in for service…

118

NINE

“WHAT ELSE AM I supposed to do while I’m

lying…

137

TEN

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, breakfast

was again palatable.Dr. Ming and

Dr.

Alfonso…

150

ELEVEN

BOB JR. HAD scarcely been gone more than

a few seconds…

167

TWELVE

UNFORTUNATELY, BOTH JUDITH and

Renie began to suffer considerable pain…

187

THIRTEEN

THE WHEELCHAIR SAILED into Addison

Kirby’s room and bumped up…

206

FOURTEEN

HEATHER CHINN CAME running. It wasn’t

Renie’s insistent buzzer or…

222

FIFTEEN

“SO,” RENIE SAID after Judith had finished

speaking to Woody…

238

SIXTEEN

JUDITH WILLED HERSELF not to faint

twice in one day,…

251

SEVENTEEN

“I FOUND MR. FLYNN,” Margie Randall

announced with a triumphant expression.

267

EIGHTEEN

“MOM! WHAT’S WRONG?”

282

NINETEEN

RENIE WAS AMAZED by Judith’s theory.

She was even more…

294

TWENTY

JUDITH LET OUT a terrible cry of anguish.

Joe

tried…

308

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PRAISE

OTHER BOOKS BY MARY DAHEIM

COVER

COPYRIGHT

ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

ONE

JUDITH GROVER MCMONIGLE Flynn took one look at

the newspaper headline, released the brake on her

wheelchair, and rolled into the kitchen.

“I’m not sure it’s safe to go into the hospital,” she

said to her husband, Joe Flynn. “Look at this.”

Joe, who had just come in through the back door,

hung his all-weather jacket on a peg in the hallway

and stared at the big, bold front-page headline.

ACTRESS DIES FOLLOWING ROUTINE SURGERY

John Fremont Succumbs After Minor Foot Operation

“Who’s John Fremont?” Joe asked after kissing

his wife on the cheek. “The explorer? No wonder he

wrecked his feet, going over all those mountains.

Huh. I thought he was already dead.”

“He’s been dead for over a hundred years,” Judith

replied. “It’s a—”

“A shame the local newspaper doesn’t jump on

those stories faster,” Joe interrupted. “What’s

Queen Victoria up to this week?”

Judith made a face at Joe. “It’s a typo,” she said

in a testy voice. “It’s supposed to be Joan Fremont.

See, there it is in the lead. You know who she is—

2

Mary Daheim

we’ve seen her in several local stage productions. She

is—was—a wonderful actress.”

Joe frowned as he read deeper into the story. “Jeez,

don’t these people proofread anymore?”

“That’s not my point,” Judith asserted. “That’s the

second well-known person in three weeks to peg out at

Good Cheer Hospital. I’m getting scared to go in next

Monday for my hip replacement.”

Joe opened the cupboard and got out a bottle of

Scotch. “You mean Somosa, the pitcher? That’s no

mystery. He was probably full of amphetamines.” With

an air of apology, Joe gestured with the bottle. “Sorry,

I hate to drink in front of you, but I spent ten hours sitting on my butt for that damned insurance stakeout.”

“Never mind.” Judith sighed with a martyred air that

would have made her Aunt Deb proud. “I’m used to

sacrifice and self-denial. After a month in this stupid

wheelchair and taking all those pain pills, I suppose I

should be looking forward to surgery and getting back

to a normal life. How’d the stakeout go?”

“It didn’t,” Joe replied, dumping ice cubes into a

glass. “The guy didn’t budge from his sofa except to go

to the can. Then he used a walker. Maybe he’s legit.

The insurance company expected him to play a set of

tennis or jump over high hurdles or do the rumba. I

hate these alleged insurance-fraud assignments.”

“They pay well,” Judith pointed out, giving the

amber liquid in Joe’s glass a longing look.

“Oh, yeah,” Joe agreed, sitting down at the kitchen

table. “We can use the money with the B&B shut down

for five weeks. I’m expensive to keep, and you’re not

delivering.”

Teasing or not, the comment nettled Judith. Just

after Christmas, her right hip had deteriorated to the

SUTURE SELF

3

point that she’d been confined to a wheelchair. With

the help of Joe and their neighbors, Carl and Arlene

Rankers, Judith had managed to keep Hillside Manor

running smoothly through the holidays. But Carl and

Arlene had left the day after New Year’s for a vacation

in Palm Desert. And even though Joe was retired from

the police force, his part-time private investigations

had become almost a full-time job. It had been a difficult decision for Judith, but she had been forced to cancel all reservations for the first ten days of January,

until the Rankerses’ return. Her only consolation was

that the days in question were the slowest time of the

year for the Bed-and-Breakfast industry.

“We’ve lost at least four grand,” Judith said in a morose tone.

Joe gave a slight shake of his head. “Dubious. The

weather around here this winter isn’t exactly enticing

to visitors.”

Judith glanced up at the window over the kitchen

sink. It was raining. It seemed to have been raining for

months. Fifty degrees and raining. No sun breaks, no

snow, just relentless rain and gloomy, glowering skies.

Day after day of gray, gray, and grayer. Even a Pacific

Northwest native like Judith had an occasional hankering for a patch of blue sky.

“People still visit people,” Judith said, unwilling to

let herself be cheered.

Joe gave a solemn shake of his head. “Not in January. Everybody’s broke.”

“Including us,” Judith said. “Because of me. Renie

and Bill are broke, too,” she added, referring to her

cousin and her cousin’s husband. “Renie can’t work

with her bad shoulder. This is the busiest time of year

for her, with all the annual reports. She usually designs

4

Mary Daheim

at least a half-dozen, which means big bucks. She’s out

of commission until March.”

“When’s her surgery?” Joe inquired.

“A week after mine,” Judith replied. “We’ll be like

ships passing in the night. Or should I say sinking?”