been terrible. How did he look?”
Mike laughed ruefully. “Like hell. And bitching like
crazy. I guess he was in a pretty bad way, but the surgeon who worked on him was some kind of wizard.”
“Dr. Garnett?” Judith put in.
Mike shrugged. “Whoever. Anyway, they moved
him out of intensive care last night.”
“We know,” Renie said dryly. “We thought he’d
been kidnapped. Or worse.”
“What else did he say?” Judith asked eagerly. “Does
he know who stabbed him?”
Mike shook his head. “I didn’t want to wear him out,
so we didn’t talk much.” He paused, his gaze wandering around the room. Maybe, Judith thought, Mike was
aware that since her marriage, he and Joe didn’t ever
talk much.
‘So,” Mike went on, “I left and came down to this
floor. Whatever they were doing here was over by then,
and I was able to see you. But you weren’t in your
room, and somebody told me they thought you’d gone
to the shower.” He shrugged again. “That’s where I
went, and found Aunt Renie. I feel bad that I scared
you.”
“It’s been a scary kind of hospital stay,” Renie said.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Mike looked unsettled. “Do I want to?”
“Probably not,” Judith said with an ironic smile.
“It’s a long story, and really doesn’t have anything to
do with us. I don’t think.”
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285
Mike eyed both Judith and Renie curiously. “What
does that mean?” Mike asked.
Judith winced. “Nothing. Have you had lunch? It’s
almost noon. How are Kristin and little Mac? Will you
take me to see Joe?”
Mike grinned at the onslaught of queries. “Kristin
and Mac are great. I’ll get some lunch in the cafeteria.
I didn’t have much breakfast this morning because I
wanted to get an early start.” He hesitated and grew serious. “I don’t know if I can take you to see Joe. I had
to sort of sneak in to see him myself.”
“Why?” Judith demanded. “Is his condition still
critical?”
“No,” Mike responded, “it’s not that. It was more
like a question of security or something. In fact, there
was a cop outside the room. Officer Boxx, I think his
name was.”
“Woody!” Judith grinned. “That must have been his
doing, thank goodness. But Officer Boxx let you in
when you identified yourself?”
“Not at first,” Mike replied. “I had to prove we were
related, and having different last names didn’t help, so
I—”
Torchy Magee appeared in the doorway. “Mrs.
Jones? I got a crazy question for you.” He glanced at
Judith and Mike. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“What kind of crazy question?” Renie asked.
Torchy laughed. “I know Jones is a real common
name, but all the same . . . This sounds stupid, but . . .”
“But what?” Renie was impatient.
“We’ve been clearing off the cars in the parking lot
this morning,” Torchy explained. “We can’t get into
most of them, so we don’t know who they all belong
to. But this one car, a beige Toyota Camry, had a work
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Mary Daheim
order from the dealership on the front seat that had the
name Jones, William on it. Any relation?”
Renie was speechless.
After Renie got her keys out of her suitcase, she insisted that Torchy Magee take her to the parking lot.
The security man wasn’t happy with the idea.
“I want to make sure it’s our car,” Renie insisted.
“Too risky,” Torchy argued. “The lot’s real slippery.
You might fall and hurt yourself. Let me take the keys.
I can check the registration.”
“But is Cammy okay?” Renie demanded.
Torchy looked puzzled. “Cammy?”
“That’s what we call our car, dammit,” Renie
barked. “Has Cammy suffered any damage?”
“Not that I can see,” Torchy replied, bemused.
“Come on, let me go check and save you a nasty accident.”
Renie relented. As soon as Torchy had left, she went
to the phone and called Bill. Judith and Mike kept
quiet while Renie spoke with one of her children.
“What do you mean, Anne? Your father went
where? ”
There was a long silence, then Renie shook her
head. “I don’t believe it. He’ll freeze. He’ll wear
himself out. It must be four or five miles from our
house to the hospital.” She paused, apparently for
Anne to reply. “Okay, I’ll try not to have a nervous
breakdown. Thanks, and let me know if you hear
from your father.”
Replacing the receiver, Renie stared at Judith and
Mike. “Bill took off for the hospital about an hour or
more ago. He decided to come in person to try to find
out what was going on with Joe.”
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287
“He’s walking?” Judith said, incredulous.
Renie nodded. “The buses haven’t started running
again, and you know how Bill likes to walk. But it’s a
long, long trek and it’s cold and the streets are slippery
and . . .” She fell back against the pillows.
“Maybe,” Mike offered, “I could take my vehicle
and try to figure out what route Uncle Bill would follow. Then I could meet him and give him a ride the rest
of the way.”
“That’s sweet, Mike,” Renie said, “but not very
practical. I imagine a lot of the streets are still closed
to traffic. Bill can walk anywhere he wants, but you’d
never get through to collect him.”
Unusual noises in the hallway distracted the trio.
Mike got up to find out what was happening.
“They’re moving somebody into the room across the
hall,” Mike said. “It looks as if whoever it is has just
come from surgery.”
The cousins exchanged puzzled glances. “Mr.
Mummy?” they chorused.
Mike moved farther into the hall. “Is that his real
name?” he called over his shoulder.
“Yes,” Judith replied. “Don’t you see it posted next
to the door?”
Mike disappeared briefly. When he came back into
the room, he shrugged. “There’s nobody named
Mummy—what a goofy name—listed outside the
room. It’s some other person—Randall, James. Does
that sound familiar?”
Judith and Renie were dumbfounded. “What,” Judith asked, “happened to Jim Randall that he required
surgery? I thought we heard somebody tell him he’d
gotten good news. And where is Mr. Mummy?”
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Mary Daheim
Renie simply shook her head. “This place keeps getting crazier. How the hell did our car end up in the parking lot at Good Cheer?”
Judith shot Renie a sharp look. “That may not be as
crazy as it sounds.”
“What do you mean?” Renie demanded.
“Let me think,” Judith said, frowning. “I wish my
brain wasn’t still addled from that blasted anesthetic. If
I could just put everything in logical order, I might be
able to figure this out.”
“Figure what out, Mom?” Mike asked, looking bewildered. “Say, wasn’t that football player who died
named Randall, too?”
“Oh, Mike.” Judith’s expression was pitying.
“There’s so much you don’t know, that you don’t need
to know . . . Except,” she went on, suddenly looking
panicked, “if Joe’s in real danger. Can you go upstairs