The Wurst Is Yet to Come (31 page)

Renie moved away from the door to allow Franz to make his exit.

“What,” Judith said to Ellie, “was that all about?”

Ellie sniffed before raising her head. “You don't know?” she asked in a hoarse voice. “No,” she went on quickly, “even FASTO wouldn't know what happened between Franz and Josef.”

Judith waited for Ellie to continue, but it was Renie who spoke first after pulling the vacant chair by the bed. “My cousin knows Josef was pushed off the balcony,” she said, stretching the truth. “She just isn't sure who did it. I assume it was his brother, Franz. That's why he won't go near there.”

Ellie stared at Renie. “Are you sure you're not really FASTO?”

Renie grimaced. “The pretense seems to have turned into reality. I'm starting to think like a sleuth. Scary, huh?”

Judith smiled at her cousin. “Serena has always helped me with my investigations. Was Josef drunk and abusing your mother?”

Ellie's face tightened. “Yes. He was trying to throw her over the balcony. Franz arrived just in time to stop him. They fought . . .” She hung her head again, fists tightly clenched in her lap. “Josef fell over the edge and was killed instantly. Dietrich never quite recovered from that. It created enormous tension between father and son. And I think Franz felt guilty for his own father's death. He thought maybe I
had
killed him.”

Judith nodded. “I understand. Even the most admired people are flawed and few families live in total harmony. It's the human condition.”

Ellie seemed to relax a bit. “You really are a nice person.”

“Most of the time,” Judith said. “It's pointless to rehash all this now. I do have a question, though. When you were growing up here, did you know the Bauer family very well?”

Ellie seemed surprised. “Only from church. Mr. Bauer died years ago and their daughter moved away. I don't remember much about her. She was ten, twelve years older than I was. We were never in school together. I doubt I'd know her if I saw her. Why do you ask?”

“We met Mrs. Bauer,” Judith said. “Her husband was the victim of malicious lies, but your grandfather knew better.”

“Oh.” Ellie was starting to pull herself together. “Yes, that was typical of him—righting wrongs. Except,” she added ruefully, “not always lenient with his own kin.”

“Not an uncommon trait,” Judith said. “I've heard he had high hopes for his boys, especially your father, being the elder son.”

Ellie stood up. “Very dynastic of him, but very hard on Josef. I must go. Delmar needs comforting.” She stood up, offering her hand. “Thank you, Judith. I'm grateful to you.” She turned to Renie. “And you . . . Serena.” Ellie seemed to have a bit of trouble getting out the name.

“I'll be damned,” Renie said, after closing the door behind their guest. “Ellie's human after all.”

“Aren't we all,” Judith murmured. “You can go out onto the balcony without pitching a fit. See how hard it's snowing.”

Renie went around the bed to open the outer door. “Still snowing, but not as heavy. Colder, though. Did you plan to do some sleuthing?”

“No. It's too deep. Is there much activity out—” She was interrupted by her cell phone's ring.

The caller was Chief Duomo. “Just thought I'd tell you Mrs. Bauer's still alive and kicking.”

“You saw her?” Judith asked.

“Nah, too risky. She called to report a bear in her yard. I told her not to worry, they wander around here fairly often, foraging for food.”

“Was her neighbor still with her?”

“No, but a relative showed up. Some kind of family reunion, I guess. Bear or no bear, the old lady sounded kind of cheerful. Gotta forage for my own food. Need to beef up if I have dinner late. Ciao.”

Judith hung up. “Mrs. Bauer is fine except for seeing a bear in . . . don't bears hibernate this time of year?”

Renie nodded. “Usually. I suppose bears could still be on the prowl.” Her eyes widened. “The bear that wasn't there?”

“Exactly.” Judith grabbed her cell. “I'm telling Duomo to get his fat butt over to Mrs. Bauer's ASAP. I think I know where the killer's been hiding. That's no bear, that's the boar.”

H
ernandez answered her call to headquarters. “Sorry,” he said, “the chief went to his brother's bakery. I can't believe he's
walking
.”

Judith didn't care if Duomo sank up to his eyeballs in the snow. “Is someone on patrol?”

“The major just left. He's chained up. If he can get through, he's probably close to your inn. Why? You need a lift?”

Judith hesitated. “Yes. We'll be waiting out in front.”

“Got it.” Hernandez rang off.

Judith burst into action. “We're going with Ernie to Mrs. Bauer's. As usual, Fat Matt's a washout. Or a snow-out.”

“Relax. It
could
be a bear,” Renie said, putting on her jacket while also stepping into her boots. “Need help?”

“I can get into them when I'm not so tired. The
off
part's harder.”

Two minutes later, they were in the parking lot. The snow was still falling, but in much smaller flakes. A few headlights and some foot traffic could be seen on the main street. The clock tower chimed the quarter hour after four.

“Hiding in plain sight,” she said in dismay. “Why didn't I think of that? The boar was outside of Wolfgang's right after Wessler was killed.”

“Don't beat yourself up. We've seen lots of people in weird outfits.”

“True. Here comes Ernie.”

“What's up?” he asked as Judith joined him in the front seat and Renie moved in behind them.

Judith quickly explained her suspicions. The major's reaction was skeptical, but he made his way to Mrs. Bauer's house as fast as weather conditions would permit. Trying to stay calm, Judith noticed how quiet the town had become, as if the snow had trumped the usual raucous closing of the Oktoberfest celebration. Or maybe it was the pall of death that hung over the town along with the heavy dark clouds.

Renie broke the silence. “Why do I get stuck back here in the perp's seat? I'm innocent.”

“Not of some things I could mention,” Judith said through tight lips. She saw the outline of St. Hubert's loom through the snow. “How far away are we from Mrs. Bauer's?” she asked of Ernie.

“Block and a half,” he said, turning left.

“Shouldn't you call for backup?” Judith asked.

“What backup?” Ernie said wryly.

“Well . . .” Judith began, “I assume you have everybody working.”

“Sure,” Ernie said, slowing down as he carefully turned into an unplowed driveway, “but they're all out rescuing drivers and pedestrians who didn't have sense enough to stay inside.” He stopped the cruiser. “Now what? Look for the bear or the boar or whatever beast is loose?”

“I don't see a house,” Judith said, peering at the windshield, which was beginning to accumulate a dusting of snowflakes. “Where is it?”

Ernie pointed straight ahead. “About twenty yards, but I can't drive closer. The snow's drifted in the driveway. I'll check on Mrs. Bauer. If I see a two-footed animal, I'll bust him.”

Ernie got out of the car. Renie leaned forward. “So we just sit?”

“I can't risk a fall in this stuff. The wind's blowing from the south. From what I can see, it looks like one big drift out there. The major should be wearing snowshoes.”

“It's not snowing as hard, though,” Renie said, straining to look out the window. “I can't roll this down to see how cold it is because I'm the perp. Any chance you can turn on the heat? It's chilly in here.”

“I can't see the controls on the dashboard,” Judith said. “I wonder if I can find a light somewhere.”

“Use my key chain flashlight,” Renie said, rummaging in her purse. “Damn! My fingers are so stiff I can hardly move them.”

“Why don't you get out and sit in the front seat?”

“Because the rear doors are locked from the outside. On the other hand, I can't give you the flashlight through the grille between the seats. Can you get out and open the door for me without falling into a heap?”

Judith groaned. “This is so . . .”

To her surprise, the passenger door seemed to open on its own. At first, Judith could only see dark, bristly fur. She gasped as the creature lowered its head. Pointed ears, a broad snout, and two sharp tusks almost touched her face.

“Fool,” a husky voice growled. “Meddling is
your
profession. Now you're finally finished trying to ruin me!”

Renie screamed as the gloved hands reached out for Judith's throat. “Vermin!” the creature cried, lurching into the car and falling on top of Judith. Forced backward, her shoulder hit the horn. The boar uttered a stream of obscenities while Renie kept yelling.

The horn continued blaring into the stiff wind and falling snow. Judith could barely breathe, let alone move. If only Ernie would hear the horn . . . her mind fled back to the previous January when she'd found herself in the same dire straits and would've died if Arlene Rankers hadn't intervened. But Arlene was over a hundred miles away at Hillside Manor, readying for the arrival of guests . . .

“Die, you demon, die!”

The menacing word didn't come from the boar. Judith heard a high-pitched voice cut through the air just as the creature suddenly went slack, but the horn kept blaring.

“What the hell . . . ?” she heard Renie gasp.

The snout was pressing against Judith's forehead and her breathing was hampered by the weight of the inert body sprawled on top of her. Suddenly she heard someone—Ernie Schwartz, she thought vaguely, though he sounded unlike himself as he yelled at somebody to stop doing something and put their hands on . . . the cruiser?

“Coz!” Renie cried from the backseat. “Can you breathe?”

Judith couldn't answer. But before she thought she'd smother, the pressure was released when the creature apparently was dragged out of the front seat.

“You okay, Mrs. Flynn?” Ernie asked.

Slowly opening her eyes, Judith let the officer grab her hands and pull her into a sitting position. “Uh . . . huh,” she panted, relieved that the horn had stopped honking. “What . . . ?” She blinked several times. She couldn't see anything of the boar, but the outline of what appeared to be a woman in ski pants and a parka was visible next to the cruiser.

“Take it easy,” Ernie said, still leaning into the passenger seat. “Backup's coming. Just relax. Your attacker is out cold, thanks to . . .” He paused, turning around to look at whoever was standing by the cruiser. “You got a name, lady?”

“Yes,” Judith heard the woman say. “I'm Ingrid Heffelman from the state B&B association.”

T
he last place Judith expected to find herself that afternoon was in Hanover Haus's private quarters. Flames danced from crackling pine and cedar logs in the stone fireplace as she sipped a hot rum toddy and snuggled under a hand-knit blue-and-white-checkered coverlet.

“Good work,” Chief Duomo said between mouthfuls of buttered popcorn. “You, too, Mrs. Flynn. But our own Ingrid saved the day.”

“Shut up, Matt,” Ingrid snapped. “You know I never let anyone find out I came from this stupid little burg. I was too ashamed after marrying that total loser, Jack Hellman. It only took me two months of emotional and physical abuse to figure out what he was really like.”

“Aw, Ingrid,” the chief said, “don't be so hard on Little Bavaria. It was your idea to have your bunch come over here in the first place.”

Ingrid sighed. “It was Suzie and Bob. I knew them as neighbors in the city before they moved. I never told them I was born here. When Bob got killed where the other horror had happened, I had a feeling Jack was involved. Then he tried blackmailing me—and not for the first time. But I
knew
he'd been involved in Bob's murder. One of his other ex-wives had raised some kind of ruckus over child custody and Bob had been his attorney at Legal Aid. I sent an anonymous letter to Dietrich Wessler, telling him to watch out for Jack. I don't know what the old guy did about it, but obviously not enough. I called Herman Stromeyer after I got here. He and Wessler were tight.” She glared at Duomo. “Well?”

The chief shrugged. “Never heard a peep out of either of 'em. You don't know how Wessler and Stromeyer handled stuff. They did things their own way, working like a couple of secret agents.”

Ingrid nodded impatiently. “And it cost them, or at least Wessler. Of course, I wasn't at the cocktail party when he died. I didn't get here in time. But at long last, I've reconciled with my mother.”

“How?” Judith asked.

“I finally went to see her,” Ingrid said with a lift of her chin. “She stubbornly thought I still loved Jack. I promised I'd get even with him for what he did to my father. She decided I wasn't a lost cause. Silly old bat.”

“Takes all kinds,” Duomo muttered. “How come you changed your name from Hellman to Heffelman?”

“Oh, that.” Ingrid gave the chief a condescending look. “My second husband was named Feldman. He drowned in a tragic birdbath accident. Frankly, he wasn't much of an improvement. I didn't want to sully the Bauer name any further, so I combined the two husbands' names as a reminder to never marry again. I'm unlucky in love. Unlike some.” She glowered at Judith. “Of course, you did flunk the first time around,” she added, before turning to Renie. “How come you're not wearing that red sweater you wrestled me to the ground for?”

“I already wore it,” Renie said smugly. “I looked amazing.”

Judith's eyes widened. “You mean . . . ?”

Renie scowled at her cousin. “I told you my foe was a big mama. How did I know it was Inbred Heffalump? We'd never met.”