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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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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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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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“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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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
<
br /> 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
and stay with him?”
Mike was clearly perplexed. “Isn’t that Officer
Boxx’s job?”
“Officer Boxx may have to go to the bathroom, get
some lunch, whatever,” Judith said, still speaking rapidly. “I want you to go up to the fourth floor now and
make sure Joe is okay. Will you do that?”
“Sure.” Mike stood up and gave his mother an offcenter smile. “Why wouldn’t I? After all, he’s—”
Corinne Appleby entered the room, looking harried.
“Sorry about the shower,” she said to Judith, then noticed Mike. “Oh—I didn’t realize you had company.”
“I’m just leaving,” Mike said with a wave for Judith.
“Relax, Mom. I’ve got it under control.”
Corinne’s gaze followed Mike out of the room. “Is
that your son?”
“Yes,” Judith said. “He’s a forest ranger.”
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“He’s a nice-looking young man,” the nurse remarked. “I admire the color of his hair.” Corinne
twirled one of her own red locks. “He must get it from
his father.”
“Yes,” Judith said in a weak voice. “Yes.” She spoke
emphatically the second time. “He gets his red hair
from his father, Joe.” Judith shot a quick, exultant
glance at Renie. “There,” she murmured as Corinne
left the room, “I said it.”
“So you did,” Renie nodded with a smile. “But how
does Corinne know about Joe’s hair?”
Judith sucked in a startled breath. “You’re right—
when did she see Joe? More to the point, why did she
see Joe? There may be a logical explanation, but my
logic seems to have stalled since the surgery.”
“Which means you can’t figure out why Jim Randall
is across the hall,” Renie noted as she got out of bed.
“I’m going to take a peek.”
It was a temptation for Judith to join her cousin, but
she decided it would take too long to get into the
wheelchair by herself. Almost five minutes passed before Renie returned.
“I was getting worried about you,” Judith said.
“What’s up with Jim Randall?”
“That’s what I was finding out,” Renie replied, looking a bit rattled. “That helicopter—it was for Jim,
bringing him new corneas for a transplant.”
“Oh!” Judith was astounded. “But . . . that’s wonderful!”
“For him,” Renie replied, sitting down in the wheelchair. “I guess you don’t have to be stone blind to receive a transplant.”
“What happened to Mr. Mummy?” Judith asked.
“Did they move him to another room?”
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“No,” Renie answered slowly. “Mr. Mummy was officially discharged late last night.”
Judith didn’t say anything for at least a full minute.
“I wish I could figure out what Mr. Mummy was doing
here. I’m convinced he wasn’t a real patient. And why
did Sister Jacqueline have that late-night closed-door
meeting with him?”
“He certainly was snoopy,” Renie remarked.
“Yes.” Judith’s voice held a curious note. “He
seemed driven to find out every little thing that went
on in this hospital. Remember how he interrogated
us—politely—about Blanche stopping by our room
and some of the other seemingly small incidents. He
tried to do the same thing with Addison Kirby. Mr.
Mummy didn’t want to miss a trick. To what end, I
wonder?”
“A spy?” Renie suggested.
Judith frowned. “Maybe. Industrial espionage.”
Renie uttered an ironic laugh. “They call it keeping
abreast. And it wouldn’t be industrial espionage in this
situation. That is, nobody wants to steal trade secrets
from Good Cheer. Hospitals aren’t creative institutions, like chemical or munitions companies.”
“Maybe,” Judith said, “Mr. Mummy was spying for
Restoration Heartware.”
“He might have been spying for Good Cheer,” Renie
offered. “He had to have the approval of the hospital
administration. How else could he get himself in here
with a fake injury?”
Judith was pondering the question when the phone
rang. It was Arlene, and she was highly agitated. “I
hope there’s room for me in that hospital when I have
a nervous breakdown in the next ten minutes,” she an-SUTURE SELF
291
nounced in a voice that shook. “Do you have any idea
how worried I’ve been about Joe?”
Judith hung her head. “I’m so sorry. But I didn’t
know myself if he was going to . . . It’s only in the last
few minutes that I got good news from Mike.”
“He’ll live?” Arlene asked in a breathless voice.
“Yes,” Judith replied. “He’s improved enought to
complain. How’s everything at your end?”
“Fine,” Arlene replied, the tremor no longer in her
voice. “By the way, I got another call from FedEx this
morning. I canceled the pigs, but now they have a fiftypound case of Granny Goodness chocolates awaiting
delivery. They wanted to let us know that if the snow
melts enough, they may be able to bring it to the B&B
by late afternoon.”
Judith was astounded. “I never ordered any . . .” The
light dawned. “Mother,” she said under her breath,
glancing again at Renie.
“You ordered them for your mother,” Arlene broke
in. “That’s lovely, Judith. So thoughtful of you to give
her a little treat while you’re not able to be with her.
Let’s hope that the streets are passable in a few hours.
Oops!” she cried. “I must run. There goes Ernest. Now
how did he manage to get up there? He could fall in
my minestrone soup!”
Arlene hung up.
“Is there no end to my troubles?” Judith wailed,
holding her head. “I finally get some encouraging
news about Joe, but now I realize that Mother has been
using my credit card to order all those weird items.
Only she would put me in debt for fifty pounds of
Granny Goodness chocolates.”
“Oh, dear,” Renie said, obviously trying not to
laugh. “That’s awful.”
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“And Ernest is still on the loose,” Judith lamented.
“Damn this weather—I want those Pettigrew people to
leave my B&B and take their stupid snake with them.”
“Maybe they will today,” Renie said. “The airport
closing must have screwed up their travel plans.”
“I don’t care,” Judith groaned. “They never should
have brought the snake into Hillside Manor.”
“If they’d delivered the pigs, they might have eaten
&nbs
p; Ernest,” Renie said brightly.
Judith gave Renie a dirty look. “It’s not funny. And
how am I supposed to make a speedy recovery if I’m
beset with all these horrible problems? My health is
probably beginning a downhill descent into my early
demise.”
“Speaking of which,” Renie said, “I’m curious. I
thought only really healthy people could get cornea
transplants.”
As the silent orderly came in with the cousins’
lunches, Judith gave Renie a puzzled look. “What are
you talking about?”
Renie withheld her answer until the orderly had
gone. “Jim Randall,” she said, scrutinizing the food on
her tray. “I may be wrong, and of course I have no idea
what the demand is for cornea transplants, but if he’s
as big a mess as everybody claims, how did he get so
high on the recipient list?”
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Judith admitted,
also staring at the three mounds of multicolored food
on her plate. “I think these are salads, by the way.”
“Like Donner & Blitzen Department Store has in
their tearoom?” Renie said. “Those salads are really
good. My favorite is the one with shrimp.”
Judith sampled a bite from the mound that was primarily white. “This could be potato salad.”
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Renie followed her cousin’s lead. “It could also be
library paste. Oddly, I used to like library paste when I
was a kid. Sometimes I’d ask to be kept in for recess
just so I could be alone and eat the paste.”
“You also ate erasers, as I recall,” Judith said, trying
the mostly green salad next. “If you could eat stuff that
really wasn’t edible, why can’t you eat hospital food?”
She swallowed the mouthful of green and let out a startled cry. “Mrrff! That’s not very good.” Judith choked
twice before she could get whatever it was down into
her digestive tract.
“I refuse to try the red stuff,” Renie declared. “I’m
sure it has tomato aspic in it. I hate tomato aspic. These
so-called salads should be taken out and shot. Maybe
they’re wholesome, possibly even nutritious, but to
me, they’re an insult. I’m personally offended by being
forced to consider this ersatz meal as food.”
Judith gazed inquiringly at Renie. “For once, I almost wish you’d say all that nonsense again.”
“Huh?” Renie looked surprised.
“I think,” Judith said deliberately, “you may have