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Vi Agra Falls

Page 31

by Mary Daheim


  Joe came over to Judith and put his arm around her shoulders. “I know. It’s rotten luck. But our hands are tied.” He kissed her forehead. “You got more groceries to unload?”

  Judith nodded.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, and went out the back way.

  When he returned with four more bags, his expression was grim. “The bulldozer is pulling into the cul-de-sac. Renie was just ahead of it.”

  “She’s here?” Judith said. “Oh, that’s right. She’s come to get Bill and Oscar’s picture.” Opening the drawer, she removed the framed photo. “I’m too upset to think about how goofy Renie and Bill are.”

  “I heard that,” Renie said, entering the rear hallway.

  “Sorry,” Judith said, noticing that her cousin was carrying Oscar, but in no mood to ask why. “You saw the bulldozer?”

  Renie nodded. “I had to drive around it to get into the cul-de-sac.”

  Judith handed over the photo. “I’m trying to figure out how to deal with this. I can’t bear to call Ingrid Heffelman and ask her to relocate all the guests.”

  “Wait until you know the construction schedule,” Renie advised.

  “Well…maybe,” Judith said as Joe headed into the dining room. “These projects don’t always get under way on time.”

  “Come on,” Renie urged. “Let’s see what’s happening.”

  “No.” Judith refused to budge.

  “Stop doing your usual head-in-the-sand thing. I’ll bet Joe’s out front, taking it all in.”

  “Let him. It’s his ex-wife. Or not his ex-wife.”

  “I’m going to have a look,” Renie said, heading for the front door.

  Judith remained in the kitchen, waiting for the racket that she figured the bulldozer would make. The sound of doom, she thought. After a few minutes she could hear nothing except the schoolhouse clock ticking away the time. Ticking away my income. Ruining my B&B. Destroying our cozy neighborhood.

  At last she decided to join Joe and Renie. They were standing on the porch. The bulldozer had been unhitched and was sitting by the corner. Vivian was talking to a young man wearing work clothes and a hard hat. The truck that had brought the bulldozer drove off.

  “I decided I might as well see the mayhem,” Judith said, noticing that Arlene was on the sidewalk with Rochelle and Naomi. She waved to the three women, who waved back. Rochelle then made a vigorous thumbs-down gesture and shook her head.

  Vivian was acting coy, wagging a finger at the young man, who Judith assumed was the bulldozer operator. “But it’s the ride of my life!” she cried and tugged gently at the man’s sleeve. “Please, sweetheart. I simply have to christen this project myself.”

  He hesitated, but finally stepped back. “I’ll have to drive.” Climbing onto the bulldozer, he extended a hand to Vivian. “Here we go.”

  Vivian went. She slipped, lost her balance, seemed to fly into the air, and came down hard on the concrete in a flurry of purple, magenta, and gold caftan. Her scream was agonizing.

  The workman cursed aloud and jumped off of the bulldozer. Vivian’s screams turned to moans and groans. Joe hurried from the porch and across the cul-de-sac. Arlene, Rochelle, and Naomi moved closer for a better look.

  “Why,” Judith said to Renie, “am I unsympathetic?”

  “You know why,” Renie said, looking smug. “Shall I call nine-one-one?”

  Judith stared at her cousin. “I’m not doing it. Go ahead, use your cell. And what’s up with you?”

  “Nothing,” Renie replied, setting Oscar on the porch swing and digging her phone out of her purse. “Nice work,” she murmured.

  Joe was kneeling next to Vivian, who was still moaning and groaning. The bulldozer operator was talking on his cell.

  “Help’s on the way,” he shouted to Joe and Vivian.

  “Good,” Renie said, descending the steps. “I don’t have to call.”

  A white sedan with a city logo pulled into the cul-de-sac and stopped. A middle-aged Hispanic man got out, holding a manila envelope. Curious, Judith followed Renie, who’d stopped on the lawn by the small sign bearing the name of Hillside Manor.

  “I’m looking for a woman named Vivian Agra,” he said, staring at Herself’s writhing body. “I hope this isn’t her.”

  “I’m afraid it is,” Joe said. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m Horacio Benitez,” the man said, handing the envelope to Joe. “You can give this to Ms. Agra when…she’s feeling better.”

  “What is it?” Joe asked.

  “A cease-and-desist order for a condo project,” Benitez explained. “The paperwork was signed by a Vivian Buss, which turns out to be an illegal name, voiding the permit requests. Furthermore, the city has reason to believe that the project should never have been green-lighted. There’s been a reinterpretation of the zoning and variance laws in this neighborhood.” He moved toward his car. “Have a nice day.”

  “My God!” Judith gasped. “I can’t believe it!”

  “I can,” Renie said calmly as Arlene, Rochelle, and Naomi cheered.

  Judith’s eyes narrowed. “Coz, what do you know that I don’t?”

  Renie feigned innocence. “Bub and Bippy came to dinner Sunday to have some of Bill’s salmon. I mentioned the project, and that Vivian wasn’t who she claimed to be. Bub’s legal expertise is developers and zoning and property rights and all that, so he promised to look into it.” She shrugged as the city car pulled out and a medic van pulled in.

  “Oh, Coz!” Judith hugged Renie. “Thank you! I’m overwhelmed!”

  “Don’t thank me, thank Bub.”

  “I will. Truly.” She turned her attention back to Herself, where the medics were already on the job. Joe had stood back, watchful but able to offer his wife a V-for-victory sign. The three neighbors, agog over the condo project’s demise, joined Judith and Renie.

  “I can’t believe it,” Naomi said.

  “What a relief!” Rochelle exclaimed.

  “It might be fun to ride a bulldozer,” Arlene remarked. “Or not.”

  Moments later, Vivian was on a gurney and trundled off to the medic van. Joe picked up something from the spot where she’d fallen.

  “Broken hip,” he said, coming across the cul-de-sac to join the women. “I suppose she’ll have to be on a walker for a while.”

  “A pity.” Judith sounded insincere. “What’s in your hand?”

  “A banana peel,” Joe said as the medic drove off. “Where’d that come from?”

  Judith looked at her cousin.

  “Got to go,” Renie said, hurrying up the porch steps. “Come on, Oscar, our work here is done.”

  Judith could’ve sworn that Oscar winked.

  About the Author

  MARY RICHARDSON DAHEIM is a Seattle native with a degree in communications from the University of Washington. Realizing at an early age that getting published in books with real covers might elude her for years, she worked on daily newspapers and in public relations to help avoid her creditors. She is married to David Daheim, a humanities professor emeritus, and lives in her hometown in a century-old house not unlike Hillside Manor, except for the body count. Daheim is also the author of the Alpine mystery series and the mother of three daughters.

  www.authormarydaheim.com

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  ALSO BY MARY DAHEIM

  Just Desserts

  Fowl Prey

  Holy Terrors

  Dune to Death

  Bantam of the Opera

  A Fit of Tempera

  Major Vices

  Murder, My Suite

  Auntie Mayhem

  Nutty as a Fruitcake

  September Mourn

  Wed and Buried

  Snow Place to Die

  Legs Benedict

  Creeps Suzette

  A Streetcar Named Expire

  Suture Self

  Silver Scream

  Hocus Croakus


  This Old Souse

  Dead Man Docking

  Saks & Violins

  Scots on the Rocks

  Credits

  Jacket design by Ervin Serrano

  Jacket illustration by Bill Mayer

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  VI AGRA FALLS. Copyright © 2008 by Mary Daheim. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  EPub © Edition JUNE 2008 ISBN: 9780061983078

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