Table Of ContentVi Agra Falls
A Bed-and-Breakfast Mystery
Mary Daheim
To Bud and Betty,
who have won the Best In-Laws in the World Award
for the forty-second year in a row.
How did I get so lucky?
Contents
1
Judith McMonigle Flynn stood on the front porch of Hillside…
2
So lucky I caught you!” Vivian Flynn exclaimed, displaying considerable…
3
In the weeks that followed, Judith mercifully saw little of…
4
Judith was sweeping up dead leaves from under the camellia…
5
Should I get all gussied up?” Gertrude asked Judith late…
6
Judith was stunned. “No!” she cried. “I can’t believe it!”
7
Judith hurried down the front stairs as fast as her…
8
Judith related the brief exchange between Marva Lou and Frankie.
9
Joe was in the kitchen when Judith came back into…
10
The rest of the day played out uneventfully. All of…
11
It’s not my body!” Judith cried. “Damnit, I’m not on…
12
Judith froze by the dining room table. “Joe,” she said,…
13
Uncle Al answered the phone on the fifth ring. “What’s…
14
What?” Judith cried.
15
After the cousins had finished their meal of tempura and…
16
Renie looked skeptical. “Didn’t Vivian tell you he was dead?
17
That night, Judith had strange dreams. They weren’t exactly nightmares,…
18
The names Mavis had given Judith rang no bells. She…
19
From snatches of furious insults, the battle seemed to be…
20
Judith’s obvious astonishment evoked a curious expression from Terri.
“What’s…
21
Caitlin’s expression was grim. “What should we do?”
22
Frozen in place under the plum tree, Judith sensed rather…
About the Author
Other Books by Mary Daheim
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
1
J
udith McMonigle Flynn stood on the front porch of Hillside Manor, took a
deep breath of fresh summer air, and gazed around the cozy cul-de-sac on the
south slope of Heraldsgate Hill. It was a perfect June morning with pink and
white dogwood trees in full bloom, maple trees swaying in the soft wind, and
rosebushes bursting with new buds.
“Nice,” she said out loud. Not too warm, she thought, and so peaceful. The
only sound was the chirping of baby birds in a nest that Mama and Papa Robin
had built in the branches of a cotoneaster bush by the east side of the house. All
the weekend B&B guests had left by eleven o’clock on this last Monday of the
month.
Judith was about to go back inside when she heard a rumbling noise. A plane
overhead? A helicopter? A herd of stampeding buffalo? The sound grew closer.
She leaned on the porch railing and saw a huge truck pulling into the cul-de-sac.
It stopped in front of the second house from the corner. Judith went down the
front steps to see the big black and red letters on the truck’s side: grooving
moving, inc.
“What’s going on?” a voice nearby called out.
Judith turned to see Arlene Rankers coming out of her house on the other
side of the laurel hedge. “I don’t know,” Judith replied. “Are Rudi and his
girlfriend moving out?”
Arlene’s pretty face puckered into a scowl. “If they are, I should’ve known
about it. Cathy keeps her ear to the ground when it comes to the real estate
about it. Cathy keeps her ear to the ground when it comes to the real estate
business. Surely my own daughter would’ve told me.”
Judith gestured at the two burly young men who had gotten out of the truck.
“They’re going to Rudi’s rental. I think their lease is up about this time of year.”
“That’s right.” Arlene started across the pavement that curved in front of the
Rankerses’ house and the B&B. “Let’s find out.”
Judith hesitated. She was as curious as Arlene, but lacked her neighbor’s
brashness in posing awkward questions. Then again, there were times when
Judith didn’t want to know the truth. The moving van’s arrival was one of them.
“Arlene!” called a voice from farther down the cul-de-sac. “Wait!”
Rochelle Porter, who lived on the other side of the Rankers, hurried to the
middle of the street where Arlene stood with her head cocked to one side like a
curious bird. “What is it, Rochelle?” she asked.
Rochelle motioned for Judith to join them. “Last night I couldn’t sleep,”
Rochelle said, lowering her voice. “Gabe got a crazy notion that he wanted some
real soul food. He made chitlins with vinegar and some kind of hot sauce that
practically set my mouth on fire. For a black man who was raised right here in
this city and hasn’t been farther south than Disneyland, I don’t know why that
fool husband of mine comes up with these peculiar cravings.” She shook her
head. “I was up half the night with heartburn. About three in the morning I saw
lights over in Rudi Wittener’s house and a big U-Haul. Rudi’s girlfriend, Taryn,
came outside, and the movers started hauling furniture from the house to the
truck.” Rochelle gazed at the newly arrived moving van. “Look, they’re
unloading the truck. Somebody else must be moving in.”
Arlene stamped her foot. “I’m going to strangle Cathy! She should have told
me! I’m never the last to know!”
Judith suppressed a smile. Arlene was right: she was indeed the font of all
knowledge, rumor, and gossip on Heraldsgate Hill. Long ago, Judith had dubbed
her neighbor’s store of information as Arlene’s Broadcasting System, or more
briefly, ABS.
“Maybe,” Judith said soothingly, “Cathy doesn’t know. It’s odd to move out
in the middle of the night. Why would they do that?”
in the middle of the night. Why would they do that?”
Arlene glared at Judith. “You wonder? Not as much as I do! And,” she
added, marching off toward the van, “I intend to find out!”
Rochelle laughed and shook her head. “Arlene’s got more nerve than a
peanut merchant. I admire her gumption.”
Judith nodded. “Me, too. She’s a terrific neighbor.”
Both women stopped talking as they watched Arlene’s animated
conversation with the brawny movers.
“Bus?” Arlene shouted. “What bus? The nearest stop is a block and a half
over on Heraldsgate Avenue.”
One of the men threw his hands in the air; the other stomped off toward the
ramp that had been propped up behind the van.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Arlene exclaimed. “If you people can’t speak
English, at least show me your work order! My husband’s the block watch
chairman around here. We have to know.”
With a heavy sigh and sagging of broad shoulders, the mover who’d
remained by the curb came around to the driver’s side of the van and opened the
door. He returned with a clipboard and shoved it at Arlene.
“‘Buss’?” Arlene snapped, looking up from what Judith presumed was the
work order. “You don’t spell ‘bus’ with two esses.”
The man tapped his finger several times on the sheet of paper.
“Oh,” Arlene said, more quietly. “That’s the person’s name. Carry on. Or lift
on. Or…whatever you people do.” She headed back to Judith and Rochelle.
“Someone named Billy Buss is moving in,” Arlene announced. “He’s from
Oklahoma. There was a handwritten note attached to the work order. I think I got
the gist of it. It indicated that Mr. Buss was anxious to be in the house by today,
which, I suppose is why Rudi and Tara had to move on such short notice. I hope
they got a break on their rent. I was never fond of them, but fair is fair, after all.
This Buss person sounds very demanding. I hope he’s not a musician.”
“Amen,” Rochelle said with fervor. “Rudi and his violin just about drove
Gabe and me crazy as a pair of three-legged chickens.”
Judith agreed wholeheartedly. “His outdoor practice sessions, especially
when he did them in the nude during the hot weather, upset all of us, including
my B&B guests.”
Arlene shot Judith a dark glance. “And that wasn’t the worst of it,” she said
pointedly.
“It wasn’t,” Judith responded with a grimace. “I’m still trying to forget about
that whole wretched episode.”
Rochelle’s smile was ironic. “You and your dead bodies. If it wasn’t so
terrible, it’d be funny.”
Judith frowned at Rochelle. “You wouldn’t say that if you had to contend
with the state B&B association. They almost took away my innkeeper’s license
after the murder involving Rudi Wittener and his hangers-on.”
Rochelle’s expression grew somber as she put a hand on Judith’s arm. “I
know. I’m sorry. It’s just that you…well, you have sort of a…habit of getting
involved in those things.”
“Some habit,” Judith murmured. “I hope I’ve gotten over it by now. I’m not
as young as I used to be.”
Rochelle looked rueful. “Who is?”
“Mary Alice O’Flaherty,” Arlene said. “You may not know her, Rochelle,
but she goes to our church. She was forty-eight for the past seven years, and now
she’s forty-two. Amazing.”
Judith and Rochelle both managed to keep straight faces. They were used to
Arlene’s occasional off-the-wall remarks.
“Lordy, Lordy,” Rochelle said. “That is amazing.”
“Mary Alice doesn’t look her age,” Judith noted, which was true. Mary
Alice looked more like seventy-two than forty-two.
