Gone with the Win: A Bed-and-Breakfast Mystery (Bed-and-Breakfast Mysteries)

by Mary Daheim

  Judith showed her cousin the note. “Apparently this was dropped off while we were at church.”

  “You sure this is her handwriting?” Renie asked.

  “The other note was printed. It’s hard to compare.”

  “That’s a bit odd, though the other one was short. This is different notepaper, but it could’ve been written at the hotel.”

  “So how did her brother know where to find her?”

  “She might’ve called him from here—or somewhere else. I’m guessing she didn’t know he was coming to town.”

  “I’m letting Joe tell Woody she’s missing,” Judith said. “As far as I’m concerned, she is, note or no note. I’m still uneasy. Do you want to help me start calling the hotels? We can split the list and use our cells.”

  Renie sat up very straight. “No, I do not want to do that. Do you realize there are over a hundred hotels around here? What if they’re staying in one of our suburbs? Have you considered that Ruby used the term ‘hotel’ loosely and it could be a residence inn or a motel or a flophouse on Skid Row? Are you insane?”

  Judith felt sheepish. “Well . . . I suppose it is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Have you got a better idea?”

  “Yes. We take Ruby at her word. Didn’t she plan to head back to Little Bavaria tomorrow? She has a job. Why don’t you wait until then and call the restaurant where she works.”

  “You’re right,” Judith conceded after a pause. “Ruby’s an adult and fairly smart. I still wonder why Lainie had Ruby’s purse.”

  “Maybe,” Renie suggested, “Ruby dropped it on her way back the night she returned from the Thurlow District.”

  Judith shook her head. “She was so confused that she went to the Rankerses’ house, remember? The rental’s on the opposite side of the cul-de-sac. Unlike our house and the Rankerses’—which are the same architectural style—it doesn’t face the street.”

  Renie stood up. “Ruby was dazed. She may’ve wandered around before she got to the Rankerses’ house. Give it up. Ruby has.”

  The doorbell rang before Judith could respond.

  “I’ll get it,” Renie said, going through the swinging half doors. “Grab me a Pepsi, will you? I’m not leaving here empty.”

  “Fine,” Judith muttered under her breath, rising from the chair and going to the fridge. She was pouring Pepsi into a glass when Renie returned.

  “Okay,” she said in a somewhat shaken voice. “I’m back in. Your caller is out in the hall. He says he’s Jess Sparks, Hector’s long-lost son.”

  Chapter 14

  Judith almost dropped the glass of Pepsi. “Here,” she said, shoving it at Renie. “You can add your own ice.”

  Jess Sparks had followed Renie into the kitchen. “Mrs. Flynn,” he said, doffing his baseball cap and holding out his hand. “Is Ruby here?”

  Judith shook hands, taking the measure of her unexpected guest. He was average height, average looks, and, judging from his rough hands as well as his scuffed work boots, average income. “No,” she said, regaining her aplomb. “Ruby left yesterday. How well do you know her?”

  “I don’t,” he said with a crooked smile. “I heard somebody’s been looking for her lately. I wanted to know why.”

  “Let’s go into the living room,” Judith said. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thanks,” Jess said. “I just had lunch at the bottom of the hill.”

  Judith led the way, indicating that Jess should sit on one of the matching sofas. She and Renie sat down opposite him.

  “How did you know Ruby was here?” Judith inquired.

  Jess had taken off his cap and was rubbing at his auburn hair. “I’m a firefighter. We were called to a house in the cul-de-sac the other day. I’ve seen pictures of Ruby. I recognized her standing with you and two other women. My battalion chief said they come here fairly often. I switched stations last month, so I didn’t know about your . . . background. We didn’t stick around because there was nothing we could do for the lady who was hospitalized. I was on duty until Friday and then I crashed, so I wasn’t able to check on Ruby until today.”

  “Why,” Judith asked, “do you want to get in touch with her?”

  Jess grimaced. “It’s a long story. Look,” he went on, leaning forward, his brown eyes earnest, “it’s a sentimental idea for me. I won’t bore you, so if you’ll give me her home address, I’d appreciate it.”

  Judith hesitated. Jess Sparks seemed straightforward. She could easily verify his claim as a firefighter, an occupation she respected for the courage and integrity it often demanded. The station was not only close by, but the Heraldsgate Hill company obviously knew her all too well. In fact, there was something familiar about Jess. Maybe she’d seen him when he’d come to the Frosch rental. “Ruby lives in Little Bavaria,” she said, avoiding details. If he was serious, he could do his own digging.

  “Okay.” He stood up. “Thanks. Sorry to have troubled you. Maybe we’ll be coming here again one of these days.”

  “Yes, that is . . .” Judith struggled to get to her feet. “I mean, I hope it’s not for another emergency.”

  “That’s okay,” Jess said as the cousins walked him to the door. “I get the impression this is a pretty busy part of the hill.”

  “Busy . . . yes,” Judith agreed. “Be careful out there.”

  Jess gave her another crooked grin before heading down the porch steps and on to an older Dodge Ram.

  As soon as Judith closed the door, Joe appeared in the hallway. “Hi, Renie. You just get here?”

  Renie nodded.

  Joe pointed at the front door. “You came in this way?”

  Renie shook her head.

  Joe stared at Judith. “What’s wrong? Has she lost her voice?”

  “No!” Renie shouted. “But coz here is beginning to make me feel like Mortimer Snerd without Edgar Bergen.” She glared at Judith. “What I really want to say is that I have never seen you wilt so fast when I know damned well you were boiling over with curiosity.”

  “I didn’t feel I could push Jess,” Judith replied. “I know where to find him.”

  “Who’s Jess?” Joe asked.

  Judith rubbed her forehead. “Supposedly the son of Hector Sparks. I need some Excedrin. I’ve got a headache coming on.”

  Renie and Joe followed her out to the kitchen. “I talked to Woody,” he said, resting a hand on one of the kitchen chairs. “That license plate will take forever to find. He’s a little short on manpower.”

  Judith didn’t respond until she’d swallowed the pills. “I’m a little short on woman power. What did he say about Ruby?”

  Joe grimaced. “She hasn’t been missing for forty-eight hours. A description of what she was wearing would help.”

  “I don’t know what she was wearing,” Judith replied. “Probably black or tan slacks, a dark green all-weather jacket with a hood. She only brought a few things with her.”

  Joe fingered his chin. “I thought her jacket was blue.”

  Renie was foraging in a kitchen drawer. “One of every four men is color-blind.” She opened a box of pretzels. “Or is it one of five? I forget.”

  Joe frowned at Renie before turning to Judith. “Whatever happened to lunch?”

  “Oh!” Judith cried. “I forgot to feed Mother! And you.”

  “I’ll make sandwiches,” Joe volunteered. “You want one, Renie?”

  “Wha’ ki’?” she asked with her mouth full.

  “Walrus hide,” Joe replied.

  “Good,” Renie said after swallowing. “My fave. Actually, I’m going home. Make Aunt Gert’s sandwich fast and I’ll take it out to her.”

  Joe was already getting out a loaf of bread. “You got it. I don’t need any more criticism from the Grover females.”

  Five minutes later, Renie was out the door and on her way to the toolshed. Judith remained at the table, looking bleak. “I wish I knew why Ruby suddenly decided she wanted to give up the hunt for her mother’s kill
er.” She reached over to the counter where she’d put the note her departed guest had left. “Read this. It bothers me.”

  Joe perused the note. “It sounds okay to me.”

  “I don’t get it,” Judith repeated. “She seemed so determined.”

  Joe set their lunch plates on the table and sat down across from her. “Ruby’s a bit of a flake,” he said. “I know the type—so do you. Raised in a family where Dad was a petty thief and Mom struggled to keep the family intact. Growing up was probably a lot harder than Ruby admits, but she probably took the hardship for granted. She comes across a cold case that’s been solved because of DNA and gets a wild idea to try to find her mother’s killer. Then older brother shows up and tells her she’s wasting her time. Maybe Ruby’s a little ADD.”

  “I hope that’s what happened,” Judith said. “It’s plausible.”

  Joe waited to swallow a bite of chicken sandwich. “Just because Ruby’s giving up on the case, it doesn’t mean I have to. There’s still Woody to consider, which is why I got involved in the first place. By the way, did Ruby show you a picture of her mother?”

  “No. I don’t think she had one,” Judith replied. “Or if she did, she left it in Little Bavaria.”

  “I’ll ask Woody. He probably had at least one photo, but it’d be with the evidence, not in his case file.”

  The Excedrin was starting to work. Judith smiled wanly. “I’m glad you’re still interested. I think I’d have trouble letting this one go.”

  Joe put his hand on Judith’s. “I figured you might. It’s not easy to retire, is it?”

  Judith’s smile brightened. “It depends on who is retiring with you. You’re not the retiring type either. Do we really want to buy an RV and move to Arizona like Dan’s mother did?”

  Joe shook his head. “Not our style. We’d miss the rain. On the other hand,” he went on, the gold flecks dancing in his green eyes, “I could use a little heat. How about retiring to the family quarters?”

  “That,” Judith replied, “is the kind of heat I like.”

  On Monday morning, Phyliss showed up just before nine, complaining that her umbrella had blown inside out while she waited for the bus. “The good Lord wasn’t watching over me the way He should. This is the second bumbershoot I’ve lost this fall.”

  “The wind died down quite a bit,” Judith pointed out.

  “Not in my neighborhood across the canal. They’re building too many big apartments over there. It’s like standing in a canyon. Going across the street was worse than crossing the Red Sea. I told Moses he ought to do something about that. Like clean out the drains.”

  “Moses?” Judith echoed.

  “Moses Stivertsen. He waits at the bus stop with me. He works for the city—a godly man. I’m hoping to get him to join my church.”

  “Is he interested?” Judith asked, trying to be polite.

  Phyliss’s beady eyes narrowed suspiciously. “In what? Are you suggesting unholy hanky-panky?”

  “Of course not. I meant is Moses interested in joining your church?”

  Phyliss’s narrow shoulders relaxed. “He says he doesn’t need a building and a preacher to feel godly. Moses says God is everywhere. I asked him if that was so, then why did my bumbershoot go inside out?”

  Judith had long ago stopped trying to answer Phyliss’s illogical questions about how God operated on a personal level. “I don’t use an umbrella,” she finally said. “The question is a moot point for me.”

  “That’s another thing,” Phyliss declared, shaking out her black raincoat. “There’s a moot at our bus stop who talks with his hands. I can’t understand a word he’s waving, but Moses can.”

  “You mean a mute?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “Right. Sorry. I got another reservation a few minutes ago, so make sure Room Six is ready. Oh—I only did two loads of laundry yesterday and there’s more downstairs. The last load is still in the dryer.”

  “Sounds like you got sidetracked. Oh, well—no rest for the godly.” Phyliss headed to the basement.

  Joe came downstairs a few minutes later. “I’ve received an assignment starting this afternoon,” he said. “Deep background for somebody the police chief wants to hire for the bomb squad. I got the job through Woody, but I’ll have to work on it at headquarters. He does have a couple of photos of Opal Tooms in the evidence room, so I can bring those home tonight.”

  “Good,” Judith said . . . and smiled. “I’m glad you’re employed again.”

  Joe shrugged. “So am I. At least it’s not a surveillance job. Those things bore the hell out of me.”

  The rest of the morning was busy, cleaning up from the guests’ breakfast, seeing off the couple that was checking out, and telling the holdovers to enjoy their day. By noon, Judith had Gertrude’s lunch ready and was glad to sit down in the toolshed for a brief visit with her mother. For once, Gertrude seemed in a benign mood.

  “You forget I’m playing bridge this afternoon at Marcella Maria Lauracella’s?” she asked her daughter.

  “No, but I forgot she had such a long name,” Judith replied.

  “She forgot that her husband used to own a bakery downtown. So what if he’s been dead for twelve years? She can’t come up with better snacks than Ding Dungs?”

  “You mean Ding Dongs, Mother.”

  “No, I don’t. You ever tasted what Marcella Maria serves?”

  “Oh. No, luckily I haven’t.”

  “Frieda Heftmeister’s picking up your aunt Deb and me,” Gertrude said after chewing a bite of dill pickle. “Frieda’s legally blind, so Deb and I have to tell her when to stop and go. Wish Deb would stop yakking long enough to add up the count in her hand when we’re partners.”

  “You know Aunt Deb enjoys visiting,” Judith said. “She’s a very social person.”

  “She should save it for social occasions. Bridge isn’t one of them.”

  Judith was well aware of how seriously Gertrude took her cardplaying. When it came to bridge, her mother’s mind was as sharp as anyone’s this side of Charles Goren. Indeed, she’d outlived Goren, who’d also lived to a ripe old age. But Gertrude seemed likely to outlive most of the people who had been born in the previous century.

  Judith patted her mother’s shoulder. “Good luck. And have fun.”

  “Fun? If stomping your opponents is fun, I will. By the way, what happened to that Ruby girl? I haven’t seen her since she stopped to say hello Saturday afternoon.” The old lady frowned. “Or was it good-bye?”

  Judith halted halfway to the door. “When was that?”

  “I told you—Saturday afternoon. Come to think of it, I guess it was after four. I was getting hungry for my supper. She had some fella with her, maybe a date. Didn’t you say she was gone all night?”

  “You forgot to mention that,” Judith said. “Who was this guy?”

  Gertrude shrugged. “I didn’t ask. He stayed outside. Ruby was here for only a minute or so. It was raining and her beau was getting wet.”

  “Ruby left a note saying her brother was picking her up,” Judith explained. “I suppose she’s back in Little Bavaria now or will be soon.”

  “Good for her. Chipper kind of girl.” Gertrude took a big bite of her sandwich and waved her daughter off.

  Back inside the house, Judith wondered if she should call Ruby in Little Bavaria. During Oktoberfest, she’d had two jobs, but maybe she was now working only the evening shift at Wolfgang’s. At half-past noon, it might be too soon to call. Even in good weather, the road through the mountain pass was tricky and would take three or four hours, especially via bus. Judith decided to wait until at least midafternoon.

  Joe left for downtown soon after Judith returned from the toolshed. The next two hours were spent conferring with Phyliss, receiving two December reservations, arguing with Phyliss, preparing the guests’ appetizers, trying to convince Phyliss that Catholics did not worship idols despite the use of statues in churches, and, at three o�
�clock, getting a request for the single room from a stranded businesswoman whose flight to Fairbanks had been canceled.

  Judith finally decided to call Ruby. The phone rang five times before trunking over to a standard voice message saying that the party was unavailable and to please leave a message at the sound of the beep. Judith complied, asking Ruby to phone her as soon as she could. “I have a question for you,” she added. “Don’t worry—it’s not anything upsetting, just my rampant curiosity. Hope all is well with you.”

  Ten minutes later, the phone rang. Judith saw Ruby’s number come up and quickly answered. “Ruby?” she said. “How are you?”

  “Excuse me?” a male voice responded. “I must’ve dialed the wrong number.” He disconnected.

  Puzzled, Judith wondered if she’d dialed incorrectly. It was possible, given the strain of the past few days. She started to redial, but stopped, realizing she’d probably placed the call to Ruby’s cell, which had disappeared. It was the only number listed on Ruby’s registration. Judith double-checked to make sure. She’d called Ruby when the cousins were in Little Bavaria, but couldn’t remember if it had been the same number as the cell phone. Dialing directory assistance, she asked for Ruby’s home number—and was informed it was the same as the cell. Discouraged, she called Renie and explained her plight.

  “You’ve done work for the phoneco,” Judith said. “How do I find out if Ruby has another number?”

  “You don’t,” Renie replied. “She probably doesn’t. Wait and call her at Wolfgang’s and stop bothering me when I’m working. Just because I’ve designed a couple of annual reports for the phone company over the years doesn’t mean I understand diddly-squat about their operating system. For all I know about technology, they use two tin cans and a string. In fact, I wish they did—then the string might not reach from your house to mine. I’m up against deadline.” Renie hung up.

  Phyliss came through the kitchen. “I still say they’re graven images,” she muttered.

  Judith didn’t bother to resume the argument. Instead, she felt another headache coming on and reached for the Excedrin.

  Shortly after four, she decided to call the rental agency that handled Herself’s house to see what background they had on the Frosches. She was put on hold for so long that she finally gave up. On a wild impulse, she dialed Herself’s number in Panama City. It was seven o’clock in the gulf, so maybe her former nemesis would still be conscious.