Phyliss Rackley showed up about then, and the first
thing she did was—Hold it.” Joe went away from the
phone, and Judith heard voices in the background. She
could barely make out her husband’s words but she
caught fragments that sounded like “. . . can’t make
it . . . let the medics walk . . . only five blocks . . .
chains? Oh, good.”
“Joe?” Judith called into the phone. “Joe!”
“What?”
“What’s going on, Joe?” Judith demanded. “Did
something happen to Phyliss? I can’t afford to lose my
cleaning woman when I’m laid up like this.”
“Well . . . It seems that Phyliss grabbed the laundry
basket to take upstairs so she could strip the beds, and
as you might imagine, the snake got loose, and—” Joe
stopped speaking as Judith heard the cleaning woman
shriek in the background:
“Lucifer! Satan! Beelzebub! He’s on the loose,
tempting sinners! Look out, Lord, he may be coming
after me! Keep him away, Lord! I don’t want to wear
scanty underwear and dance to suggestive music!”
“You hear that?” Joe asked. “Phyliss passed out cold
when she saw the snake, but she’s come to now.”
“Oh, good grief!” Judith cried, raking her fingers
over her scalp. “Is she okay?”
“Not exactly,” Joe replied calmly as voices contin-164
Mary Daheim
ued to sound in the background. “She came to, but she
swears she’s having a heart attack. Arlene says it’s just
gas, but you know Phyliss, she’s kind of a hypochondriac.”
Phyliss Rackley was indeed a hypochondriac as well
as a religious zealot. But she was also a terrific cleaning woman. Judith hung her head. “What’s happening
now? Did you say ‘medics’?”
“Yes, yes, I did,” Joe replied, still keeping his voice
calm. “Phyliss insisted we call an ambulance. But the
medics were having trouble getting up the hill with all
this snow. Even with chains, they had trouble, but they
think they can make it if they give it another try.”
“Where is Phyliss?” Judith asked, aware that a
global-sized headache was setting in.
“On the sofa in the living room,” Joe said. “Really,
she seems okay. I wish Arlene wasn’t trying to get her
to take all that Gas-X, though. That can produce some
pretty revolting results with somebody like Phyliss.”
“What about the damned snake?”
“The snake?” Joe hesitated. “A good question. I’m
not sure.”
“Joe . . .”
“I’ll check. Right away. Hey, I really called to see
how you were feeling this morning.”
“How do you think I feel?” Judith retorted. “I feel
absolutely awful. I’m hanging up now so you can
straighten out this horrible mess. I’m not even going to
ask how the rest of the guests are managing. Goodbye.” Judith slammed down the phone with a big bang.
Bob Randall Jr. stood in the doorway. “Excuse me,”
he said in a diffident voice, “have you seen my sister,
Nancy?”
“Yes,” Judith said in a testy voice. “She was here
SUTURE SELF
165
and then she left. She couldn’t find your mother’s
worry beads.”
“Oh.” Bob Jr. looked forlorn. “Darn.”
Judith regretted her sharp tone. It wasn’t Bob Jr.’s
fault that she was in a bad mood. “I imagine Nancy
went off to search wherever else your mother had been
after she’d called on us.”
But Bob Jr. shook his head. “Mom wasn’t anywhere
else after we met her in this room. We went straight
down to the staff lounge.”
“What about before your mother came in here?” Judith asked, making an effort to be helpful.
Bob Jr. had moved closer to the bed, and appeared
as if he’d like to sit down. “Do you mind?” he asked,
pointing to the chair and panting a bit.
“Not at all,” Judith replied. “Do you feel ill?”
“Sometimes.” Bob Jr. sat down with a heavy sigh. “I
think Mom called on Mr. Kirby before she came to see
you and that other lady. I’ll check in there as soon as I
catch my breath. He’s close by, right?”
Judith nodded. “Next door.”
Bob Jr. also nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Have you been hurrying?” Judith asked, still feeling a need to make up for her previous curt manner.
Bob Jr. shook his head. “No. It’s my condition.”
“Oh?” Judith put on her most sympathetic expression. “Would it be rude to ask what that might be?”
“Yes.” The young man took a deep breath, then got
to his feet.
“I’m sorry,” Judith apologized. “I won’t pry anymore.” She paused, hoping that Bob Jr. might give her
a hint. But he just stood there, looking desolate. “How
is your mother doing with the funeral plans? It must be
very hard for her.”
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Mary Daheim
“It is,” Bob Jr. said, very solemn. “Sometimes she
feels like she’s responsible for all these deaths.”
“Why is that?” Judith inquired.
“Because,” Bob Jr. said, “she thinks she was the vessel.” Anxiously, he looked over his shoulder, toward
the hallway. “I’ll check with Mr. Kirby now. I should
have done that first before coming in here. I know how
anxious my mother was to see him.”
Bob Randall Jr. made his exit, leaving Judith puzzled. And very curious.
ELEVEN
BOB JR. HAD scarcely been gone more than a few
seconds when Renie returned. “In the nick of time,”
she said. “I just met Bob Jr. going into Addison
Kirby’s room as I was leaving.” Renie stopped at the
end of Judith’s bed and peered at her cousin.
“What’s wrong? You look miffed.”
“I am miffed,” Judith declared. “My replacements
are running amok.”
Renie tipped her head and gazed at Judith’s left
hip. “I thought you only had one.”
“I don’t mean that,” Judith said with a wave of
her arm. “I mean, my replacements at the B&B. It’s
that damned snake they let in.”
“Enough with the snakes!” Renie cried, yanking
the blanket from Judith’s bed and putting it over her
head. “You know I hate snakes. I don’t want to hear
another word about that creepy thing.”
Judith, however, prevailed, her attitude conveying
just how sorry she felt for herself and how little
sympathy she had for Renie. As for Hillside
Manor’s reputation, Judith was certain that it was
hopelessly tarnished.
When Judith had finished her tale of woe, Renie
peeked out from under the blanket. “Phyliss,” she
168
Mary Daheim
declared, “is not having a heart attack or whatever she
claims. She’s merely trying to get attention.”
“That’s the least of my worries. Marooned guests,
reptiles on the loose, whoopee cushions, emergency
vehicles in the cul-de-sac—why can’t I be allowed an
unencumbered recovery?” Judith reached for her water
glass, took a big swallow, and choked.
Renie replaced the blanket, doing her best to tuck in
the corners. “Are you okay?”
Between splutters, Judith nodded. “Yes,” she
gasped. “I’m just frustrated. For about a hundred reasons. Tell me about Addison Kirby and I’ll tell you
about the younger Randall twins.”
“Twins?” Renie looked intrigued.
“Yes, but not identical,” Judith deadpanned.