The Wurst Is Yet to Come (25 page)

“What?” Judith tried to lift her head, but couldn't quite manage it. “How long was I out?”

“Seven, eight minutes. The hospital's just past the high school. It took less than five minutes for the EMTs to do their thing.”

“Good grief.” Judith flung an arm over her eyes. “That light is killing me. Have you got some Excedrin?”

“Yes,” Renie replied. “I also brought your purse. Have you got something in it that's stronger than the Excedrin we both carry because we're old and enfeebled? I think I'll take a couple just for the hell of it.”

“Hand me my purse and get some water,” Judith said. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“No, I don't have to.” Renie gave the purse to Judith. “I feel fine.”

“I mean, have you talked . . . skip it.” Judith didn't know whether to laugh or hit Renie. She did neither, saving her energy to find her pills.

After her cousin went off to find some water, Judith located her pills and studied her surroundings. The hallway was lined with doors leading to what might have been exam rooms. She couldn't see any personnel, so assumed the staff was working elsewhere.

Renie returned with a paper cup of water. “Doc Frolander and an intern are the only ones on duty. Doc is tending to Herman. I overheard the term ‘gastric lavage,' so they're pumping his stomach.”

Judith groaned. “That indicates they think he was poisoned.”

Renie nodded. “I wondered. Think it was the wine or the cider?”

“I don't know,” Judith said, after swallowing the pills. “Duomo noted that Wessler may not have died immediately after consuming whatever killed him. Did you see food at the party tonight?”

Renie shook her head. “If I had, I'd have eaten it. I'm hungry.”

“Who else came here with Herman?”

“Jessi,” Renie said, peeking around the nearby corner that led to another hallway. “In fact, here she comes now with Fat Matt and a thin nurse. I thought I heard voices.”

The police chief took one look at Judith and chuckled wryly. “Don't tell me you got poisoned, too.”

That hadn't occurred to Judith. “I don't think so. I'm just really tired. I'm not used to walking so much on pavement.”

“Tell me about it,” Duomo said. “Sure glad I don't do a beat anymore. ‘Flatfoot' is right. Hey, the nurse wants to check you out.”

The chief, Renie, and Jessi moved away. The nurse began taking Judith's vitals. She spoke only when she'd finished. “Stomach pains?”

“No. Just light-headed when I collapsed.”

“No other complaints?”

“No.”

“Your pulse is fine, no fever, but your blood pressure is elevated.”

“It does that sometimes,” Judith replied.

“Do you take medication for it?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. I recommend that you stay here for at least half an hour. If you want to see a doctor, you may have to wait longer. We just got word of a bad accident up at the summit.”

“I don't think I need to bother anyone else,” Judith said. “Thanks.”

The nurse moved swiftly around the corner and disappeared. Judith tried to sit up, but required a hand from Renie. Jessi looked pale and her eyes were red-rimmed.

“How,” she asked of no one in particular, “could Gramps get poisoned?
Why
would that happen to him?”

“Could be food poisoning,” the chief said. “Did he eat before the shindig?”

“I don't know,” Jessi said. “I worked until closing the shop. I'd brought my good clothes with me to save time so I'd be ready when Barry came to get me. He had to help set up the bar at a quarter to seven.”

“Right,” Duomo said absently. “I should've stopped in. I've missed a lot of this year's functions. Damned job. Have to tend to business to impress the tourists. Oh, well. See you all later.” He started toward what Judith thought must be the exit.

“Hey,” she called in a feeble voice, “don't you want to question us?”

“Huh?” Fat Matt turned around. “Not now. You're sick. I'll catch you tomorrow.” He disappeared around the corner.

Judith grappled with the thin blanket that covered her. Jessi was nowhere in sight. Apparently, she had gone off to check on her grandfather. “I can't lie here like a lump,” Judith said. “How do we get back to Hanover Haus? I sure can't walk.”

“You could crawl,” Renie suggested.

Judith didn't bother to comment. She started to sit up, but found the effort too draining. “I'm really worn out,” she said in frustration.

“Maybe I can steal an ambulance,” Renie said.

“Forget it. They're peeling people off the road up at the summit.”

Renie scanned the hallway. “There must be something I can steal. Be right back.” She went off and out of sight.

Judith finally managed to raise her head enough to take the Excedrin. A moment later, Barry came around the corner.

“How are you doing?” he asked. “I followed Jessi here in Mom's car. No word yet on her granddad.”

“How old is he?” Judith asked.

“Eighty-eight,” Barry replied. “He's a good guy. Jessi's folks retired to Arizona last year. Her dad likes to golf.”

“Nice,” Judith murmured, before taking in what Barry had said previously. “You have your car here?”

“Yes.” Barry smiled. “You want a ride back to your inn?”

“You should stay with Jessi, but . . .” She stopped, hearing a rattling noise nearby. A moment later, Renie showed up, pushing a hospital bed.

“Hey, coz,” she called, “get Barry to hoist you onto this. I can wheel you back to Hanover Haus.”

Barry burst out laughing. Judith shook her head. “We have transport. Barry has a car.”

Renie evinced surprise. “A car? What a novel idea!”

Five minutes later, Judith was in the passenger seat of the Ford Escort. “It's Mom's car,” he explained. “She didn't need it tonight.”

“I thought it looked familiar,” Renie said from the backseat. “We got it impounded this afternoon. Good thing I got rid of the deer.”

“The deer?” Barry asked from behind the wheel. “What deer?”

Renie explained about the stuffed buck. Judith told Barry why the car had gotten impounded.

“Mom didn't tell me you'd borrowed the Escort,” he said as they drove down the busy main street. Vehicle and foot traffic had already turned the snow to slush. “Guess she was too excited about her date.”

“Your mother has a date?” Judith said. “How nice.”

Barry nodded. “Some people might think it's too soon after Dad died, but Mom needs somebody to lean on. I can't stick around here forever. She seems independent and tough, but underneath . . . well, it's kind of a facade. Besides, this guy is really one cool dude.”

“Dare I ask who?”

“Sure,” Barry said, pulling up to the entrance of Hanover Haus. “He's a bigwig forest ranger, name of Rick Ruggiero.”

Judith and Renie didn't let on they knew Ruggiero. Given Renie's fractious encounter and Judith's rejected pleas about Mike, their history with the ranger didn't add anything positive to their own résumés. Nor was there much opportunity to discuss Suzie's date. Judith could walk through the small lobby, though she had to lean on Barry to steady her. The woman behind the desk glared at the trio and mouthed the word
drunk
. Renie mouthed a couple of unprintable words in return and moved on to help Judith take the stairs one at a time.

Inside their room, Judith thanked Barry profusely. Before he left, she begged him to let her know what had happened with Herman Stromeyer. Barry promised he would and departed.

“So Suzie's not hot for Franz,” Judith murmured, lying on the bed. “Just as well. Ruggiero's the strong, no-nonsense type. He must be stationed here. I wish I knew where Mike was going.”

“You'll find out,” Renie said, checking her watch. “It's not yet nine. You don't intend to send me off to that concert to sleuth, do you?”

“I hadn't thought about it,” Judith said. “But now that you mention it, the bandstand's only a little over a block away.”

Renie tipped her head to one side and looked pitiable. “Coz . . .”

“Klara said it would be popular music. You wouldn't mind that, would you? I mean, it's not that long, drawn-out stuff you hate.”

Renie groaned. “It's snowing, it's cold, it's dark, it's . . .” She picked up the parka she'd tossed on a chair. “Okay, but you owe me.”

“I already do,” Judith said with a wan smile. “You were a trouper at the hospital. Just don't mix it up with anybody, okay?”

“I never make promises I can't keep,” Renie said, putting on the parka. “Maybe I can find some food. See you.”

Judith's headache was beginning to ease. She considered sitting up so she could read one of the two paperbacks she'd brought with her, but felt more like taking a nap. Turning off the bedside lamp, she closed her eyes. Moments later, she was sound asleep.

A knock at the door woke her up. Judith fumbled for the light switch. Her watch informed her it was nine-forty. By the time she struggled out of bed, the knock sounded again, louder and more insistent. “Who is it?” Judith asked, wishing the door had a peephole.

“George Beaulieu,” said the muffled voice. “Please let me in.”

Judith hesitated, but decided if she needed help, she could stay near the balcony and yell down at the festival patrons who were probably all over the main street.

“What's wrong?” she asked, seeing George's stricken expression. His overcoat and watch cap were dusted with melting snowflakes.

“I must talk to someone,” he said in an anxious voice. “I chose you, with your Gypsy eyes. May I sit?”

Judith gestured at one of the two simple armchairs. “What's upset you so?” she inquired, sitting in the other chair and relieved that she hadn't bothered to get undressed.

“It's Connie,” George said, nervously smoothing his handlebar mustache. “She's leaving me.”

“No! Why would she do that?”

George sniffled. “She's in love with another man.”

Judith took a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since we went to Disneyland,” George said, taking a handkerchief out of his pants pocket.

Judith refrained from asking if Connie had fallen in love with Pluto. Or Goofy. “What did Disneyland have to do with it?”

George paused to blow his nose. “We went there a year ago last summer. I had to attend a training seminar in Anaheim. We'd taken our children to Disneyland years ago, but as long as we were staying close by, we decided it might be enjoyable to go by ourselves. One of the rides we went on was Splash Mountain—the one featuring Brer Rabbit.”

Judith nodded while George caught his breath. “My first husband and I took our son on that ride when we visited Disneyland.” It wasn't exactly true. Dan McMonigle's girth couldn't fit into the craft that plied Splash Mountain's waterway. For a moment or two Judith was lost in reverie, and missed a beat in George's account.

“. . . Connie met Franz, who was filming a folktale documentary. At first, I thought she was infatuated with the Possum, not the man.”

Judith waited for George to continue, but he was blowing his nose again. “You say ‘infatuated.' Do you mean that or something more serious? Did Franz reciprocate?”

“Unfortunately, I caught a cold,” George said with a mournful expression. “Franz was staying at the same hotel. He and Connie had dinner together one night. She returned very late, insisting they merely talked, mostly about his films. I was fool enough to believe her.”

“And?” Judith urged.

“I believe that since then”—he grimaced—“they've
texted
.”

“Oh,” Judith said. “Oh, that's . . . too bad.”

“And now they're . . . together.” George blew his nose again.

“You mean . . . ?”

“When I asked if you knew where Connie had gone the other day, I'm sure she was with Franz. Last night they left the concert arm in arm. I suspect the worst.”

“Why didn't you leave with Connie before she could go with Franz?”

“I was overcome by Klara's singing. I was among those giving her a standing ovation. She has such a lovely voice.” George leaned forward in the chair. His face—or what Judith could see of it with the sadly drooping handlebar mustache—was full of appeal to her better nature. “Those Gypsy eyes. Please convey your wisdom to me. I'm in agony.”

“I'm no wiser than most people,” Judith said firmly. “You should discuss this with Connie. Or have you already done that?”

“Not tonight,” George replied. “How could I? Connie and Franz are at tonight's musical event. I couldn't bear to be around them. Of course I broached the subject when we were in Disneyland, but I was ill, and not able to adequately articulate my concerns. She merely laughed and said they had only talked. But I know they've been in touch. This comes at an awful time—we're about to celebrate our silver wedding anniversary.”

“All the more reason to talk this out,” Judith said.

George stared at his bony hands. “Connie would only deny any wrongdoing.”

Judith hesitated, feeling helpless in the wake of George's reluctance. “I recall you and Connie talking about your job being undercover. That indicates you might have resources to investigate what's actually going on between Connie and Franz. It may sound extreme, but are you willing to try a backdoor approach?”

George scowled. “How? By checking our sewer line? I already did that today for Mr. Stromeyer, but he needs a plumber.”

“Huh?”

He let out a big sigh. “I'm a sewer inspector for the city. Connie likes to make me sound mysterious. I'm not. I considered my task at Stromeyer's as a goodwill gesture. No charge.”