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Here Comes the Bribe

Page 21

by Mary Daheim


  “I’m not sure,” Judith said. “There’s something about all of this being very . . . theatrical. Maybe my imagination has gotten the better of me, starting with having the wedding here in the first place.”

  Renie looked thoughtful. “We know now that Belle’s parents had already moved up here to a gated community that has its own chapel. It’d be reasonable to think the Schmucks would hold the wedding there.”

  Judith smiled. “You’re using my kind of logic, but these people are illogical in . . .” She stopped and stared at Renie. “Who has the marriage license and where did they get it? They arrived here Friday night. Belle told me they didn’t get in until after five. Most government offices close at five and stay that way over the weekend. Belle and Clark came from L.A. along with the others. They couldn’t use a California wedding license in this state, could they?”

  “No,” Renie replied. “Mom, being a legal secretary by trade, once told me you have to have a valid license from this state or it’s not legal.”

  Judith sighed. “Another reason why so much of what’s gone on doesn’t seem real. By the way, I forgot to tell you that Belle called last night to say she was scared. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t sound as if she were exaggerating.”

  “Not an unreasonable feeling,” Renie pointed out. “Her mother may have been murdered.”

  The phone rang. Judith reached behind her to pick up the receiver from the counter. After she said hello, there was dead air. “Yes? Who’s calling?” she inquired.

  “Adam and Eve,” a familiar, if hushed, voice finally answered. “We’re in the Garden of Eden.”

  “Arlene?” Judith said.

  “I can’t say. I borrowed Abel’s cell and it may be tapped.”

  Abel, Judith figured, must be one of the Rankerses’ two sons. “Have you something to report?”

  “Yes. The clergyman and his wife just left in one of the rental cars. I recognized him because as you may recall he’d come to our house.”

  “I’d forgotten that. But where they’re going probably isn’t sinister,” Judith said. “Anything else of interest going on?”

  “They put a large trunk in the backseat of the car,” Arlene responded, still keeping her voice down. “It wouldn’t fit in the trunk. That is, the trunk they were carrying, not the car’s—”

  “I get it,” Judith interrupted. “Did it seem heavy?”

  “The minister and another man I didn’t recognize carried the trunk,” Arlene said. “A rather tall, distinguished-looking man. In fact, someone else has just come out of the house.”

  “The man with Kindred sounds like Stuart Wicks,” Judith said. “Describe whoever you’re seeing now.” She waited for a response. But after almost a minute passed, she spoke up. “Arlene, can you see what the man looks like? Arlene? . . . Arlene? . . . Arlene . . . ?”

  There was no answer.

  Chapter 20

  Why,” Renie demanded, “do I have to drive to Sunset Cliffs? Why can’t we go in your Subaru? Why do I have to do all the driving?”

  “Stop whining,” Judith snapped. “I assume Joe took my car up to Ron’s to check on the MG. But he may’ve walked. Go see for yourself if the Subaru is in the driveway or the garage.”

  After glaring at Judith, Renie tromped off down the hall. “Subaru’s in place,” she announced. “We’ll take your car. I don’t know if Bill needs ours this afternoon, but I won’t leave him in the lurch if he does. You can follow me to our house. We might as well go now. I don’t see you baking any cookies.”

  “I got distracted,” Judith said.

  “Right.” Renie grinned. “Dead bodies trump piggy cousins.”

  Ten minutes later, Judith and Renie were on their way north in the Subaru. The sky was cloudy, the temperature mild. It had drizzled earlier in the day, which was good, Judith thought. The new geraniums on the front-porch steps needed watering.

  “Should I call Arlene to tell her we’re coming?” Renie asked as they turned off from the main route to the street less traveled.

  “Darn,” Judith muttered. “I forgot to note the cell phone’s number. It belongs to one of their boys.”

  “We’ll have to pretend we don’t know the Rankerses,” Renie said.

  “Of course. I hope they haven’t had a serious problem. The grounds seem fairly expansive. They may not be right by the house.”

  “Are you kidding? How can Arlene and Carl spy if they’re not up close and personal?”

  “Good point,” Judith said, slowing for the turn into Sunset Cliffs. “Let’s hope the same young guy is at the sentry post today.”

  But a grizzled older man stepped out to greet them. “Destination?” he inquired, peering at both cousins.

  “Heaven’s Gate,” Judith replied. “We’re here to see Mr. Schmuck and his daughter, Belle.”

  The guard nodded once. “I’ll call to let them know. Please wait.” He went inside his sentry shack.

  Judith frowned. “Maybe I should’ve fibbed.”

  “What would you have said?” Renie asked.

  “That I was here to consult with the Schmucks’ gardeners?”

  “Not bad,” Renie murmured.

  The guard came back to the Subaru. “Go ahead,” he said—and opened the gate.

  “Wow.” Renie kept her voice down. “That’s impressive. I was eagerly awaiting a convoluted lie from you.”

  “You mean a mere fib. Now let’s see if I can remember how to get to the house without driving in circles. Am I going the right way so far?”

  “I think so,” Renie replied. “We can’t really get lost.”

  A few drops of rain sprinkled the windshield. “This part looks familiar,” Judith said after they turned a lazy curve. “Yes, it’s just up ahead on the right.”

  As Judith approached Heaven’s Gate, she saw the Rankerses’ SUV parked off on a paved area next to the drive. “I don’t see the rental cars,” she said as they drove up the slight incline to the front entrance. “Maybe they’re in the garage.”

  “I don’t see Arlene and Carl,” Renie said, looking in every direction. “There’s not enough rain to keep them from working outside.”

  “Maybe they took a break,” Judith suggested, coming to a stop. “Maybe it’s silly to worry about them. Cell batteries run down.”

  The cousins got out of the car. Renie paused, looking off toward a rose garden. “It looks like their gardening gear is over there, but I don’t see any sign of Arlene and Carl.”

  Judith grimaced as they walked up to the front door. “Let’s hope they’re okay.” She grasped the brass ring that set off the chimes. For over a minute, there was no response. She gave the brass ring another try. “I don’t like this,” she murmured. “There’s something creepy about this whole setup. That chiming reminds me of a death knell.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” Renie snapped. “I don’t like your premonitions. They’re often right. And the chime is Bizet’s fate motif, which seems . . . bizarre.”

  Almost another minute passed before the door swung open. Judith and Renie both gaped as Arlene gaped back. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her blue eyes wide.

  “What are you doing opening the door?” Judith asked.

  Arlene shrugged. “They all left a while ago. They had to call a cab to get everybody in. I guess there wasn’t room for all of them in the car the minister and his wife drove away. The trunk, you know. Only four of them could fit in the Honda. Those Crumps are very stout.”

  Relief swept over Judith. “Is Carl in here, too?”

  “Of course,” Arlene replied, leading the way down the hall. “He found some beer in the refrigerator. We decided to have a look around. This is quite a nice house, in its way, but I wouldn’t want to live here. It doesn’t feel like a home.”

  “That’s not surprising,” Judith said—and immediately was repentant. “I shouldn’t say that. Rodney and Millie seemed . . .” She couldn’t come up with the right word and looked at Ren
ie for help.

  “How about noncombative?” her cousin suggested.

  “That works,” Judith mumbled before greeting Carl, who was drinking from a can of beer and holding a salami-on-rye sandwich.

  “We spies need nourishment to stay alert,” he declared. “How come you showed up here?”

  Judith glanced at Arlene. “You disconnected while we were still talking. I was worried about you two.”

  “Oh!” Arlene cried. “I dropped the cell while I was trying to get a better view of what was going on. What do you suppose was in that trunk? A body?”

  “Hardly,” Judith replied. “Did you do a head count of the people who left the house?”

  “I did,” Arlene asserted. “It was all eleven of them. That’s why they needed the cab. That trunk took up the backseat of one of the cars. It was quite large. Yes, a body would fit. Unless it was someone very tall. You know—like one of those eight-foot basketball players. That’s too tall, don’t you think? Unless you don’t like to spend money on ladders.”

  Carl was looking bemused, as he often did when listening to his wife. “I don’t think any basketball player is eight feet tall,” he said.

  Arlene turned to stare at him. “How would you know? Have you ever measured a basketball player?”

  “No. Unless you count our kids.” He frowned. “Where is our ladder? I was looking for it the other day when I wanted to check the gutters.”

  Arlene turned thoughtful. “Mrs. O’Hurley borrowed it.”

  Carl looked surprised. “Mrs. O’Hurley? Isn’t she over ninety?”

  “So?” Arlene huffed. “She wanted to look in the neighbors’ window.”

  “What neighbors?” Carl asked. “She lives behind a bunch of cedar trees across the street. Who could she possibly see?”

  Arlene’s face turned faintly pink. “Umm . . .” She darted Judith an embarrassed glance. “It was a man trying to climb out the window at the B&B early Tuesday morning. She’d seen him try to do that once before, but she didn’t want to go up on her roof again. It was still a bit dark.”

  “Rodney!” Judith said under her breath. “I wonder how they cajoled him into leaving. Belle, maybe. The gang might’ve needed Rodney to get inside this house. I assume any of the guards would recognize him as the owner. Did you notice if Rodney was in one of the vehicles?”

  Arlene grimaced. “Honestly, I can’t be sure. Those cars may’ve had tinted windows. Except for the taxi. But I’ve never seen Rodney up close. Still, I could count heads. Does the total of eleven include all of them?”

  Judith nodded. “What cab company was it?”

  “Not Yellow Cab, not Farwest, not . . .” Arlene paused. “I didn’t recognize the colors or catch the name. Maybe one of those gypsy cabs?” She turned to Carl. “Do you know?”

  “I didn’t see the taxi leave,” he replied. “I was trying to figure out if some of those roses had black spot.”

  Arlene threw up her hands. “You see? Carl takes yard work seriously, even when he’s not getting paid. Except in our garden, of course.”

  “Yes, right,” Judith murmured.

  Renie, who seemed to have lost interest in the exchange, was looking in the fridge. “Hey, they’ve got pancetta. Maybe I’ll have a snack.”

  “Coz,” Judith said, “don’t. We’d better get out of here before the others show up.” She turned back to Arlene. “In fact, I wish I hadn’t let you and Carl come here. Why don’t you leave, too?”

  “But we’re not done!” Arlene exclaimed. “We haven’t finished weeding the area by the reflecting pool.”

  “You aren’t getting paid,” Judith asserted. “They didn’t hire you, I did. I mean . . . you know what I mean.”

  “A job’s a job,” Arlene stated. “Isn’t that right, Carl?”

  “You’re always right,” he replied, having finished his sandwich and coming to stand behind his wife. “Except when you’re wrong. But you never are, my darling Arlene.”

  The cousins saw Carl roll his eyes and make a face. Judith checked her watch. “It’s almost three. You must’ve gotten here quite early. It seems to me that you’ve put in a full day. Especially for free.”

  “We have another hour to go,” Arlene said. “We didn’t take a lunch break until now. We want to earn our money.”

  “What money?” Renie asked.

  “From the people in the house,” Arlene replied. “We’re billing them. Why not? We earned it. They can give us cash or a check.”

  Judith knew when to give up when arguing with Arlene. “Good luck with that,” she said. “But be careful!”

  The cousins left Heaven’s Gate and returned to the Subaru. The drizzle had stopped, though the clouds still hung over Sunset Cliffs. Neither Judith nor Renie spoke until they were outside the security gates and on the southbound street.

  “You’re either still worried about the Rankerses or you’re mulling,” Renie finally said. “Which is it?”

  “Both,” Judith replied as they paused at the first stoplight. “I’m also wondering what’s in that trunk.”

  “I don’t suppose it’s Millie,” Renie remarked.

  Judith shuddered and her foot almost slipped off the brake. “Don’t say things like that! It’s too gruesome.”

  Renie shot her cousin a sly glance. “Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your devious mind.”

  “Well . . . I suppose it’s a natural thought, given the circumstances,” Judith allowed, “but I honestly don’t think so. How about gold bullion?”

  “That’s unworthy of you. And boring.”

  “Okay. Maybe it’s Millie’s wardrobe. They may be donating it to a charity.”

  Renie leaned her head back against the seat. “Aaaargh! That’s so goody-goody that I can’t believe you said it.”

  “You’ve got a better idea?” Judith shot back.

  “I don’t have ideas,” Renie asserted. “I have concepts and designs.”

  “Then conceive and design a viable explanation,” Judith said. “Maybe they’re shipping something from the house. Or getting rid of things they don’t need anymore, especially now that Millie’s dead.”

  Renie sighed. “I’m beginning to like that gold bullion a lot better.”

  “Look, coz,” Judith said in a reasonable tone, “there’s probably nothing sinister about that trunk. It isn’t as if . . .” Her voice trailed away as they approached the bridge over the ship canal.

  “What?” Renie demanded.

  “They never left Sunset Cliffs,” Judith said.

  “Who didn’t? What do you mean?”

  “The Schmuck bunch,” Judith replied. “If they had, the security guard would’ve known. He’d have told us nobody was home.”

  Renie looked incredulous. “Are you nuts? You think he counts heads of everyone who comes and goes through the gates?”

  “Yes, I do,” Judith declared. “That’s part of his job. He’s their security person, he wants to make sure everyone is safe and accounted for. Besides, what else has he got to do all day?”

  “You might be right,” Renie conceded, “but where did they go? And why did they need a taxi?”

  “As you may recall from when we were here several years ago, Sunset Cliffs is a large area, all the way to the Sound on the west and the golf course to the north. If memory serves, there are well over a hundred homes and most of them aren’t within sight of one another. Not to mention that the Schmucks haven’t lived there all that long to familiarize themselves with their surroundings.”

  “Okay,” Renie said. “I get that. But we still don’t know why they were all heading out into the wealthy wilds of their gated community.”

  “I admit that,” Judith responded as they began the climb up Heraldsgate Hill. “It irks me.”

  “You’ll figure it out eventually,” Renie asserted. “I’m serious, you know.”

  “I hope so,” Judith said, pulling up in front of the Joneses’ Dutch colonial. She smiled. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”<
br />
  Renie shrugged before opening the passenger door. “Why? You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again.”

  Judith’s expression turned grim. “I also hope I do it in time. I keep having an eerie feeling that someone else is in danger.”

  “You mean Belle?”

  “I don’t know who I mean. That’s the problem. But the killer—assuming there is a killer—does know.”

  When Judith pulled into her driveway, she noticed that the MG wasn’t in sight. Maybe the repair job hadn’t been finished. She entered the house through the back door to find Phyliss in the kitchen, scrubbing the backsplashes by the sink.

  “Did Joe come back with the MG?” she asked.

  “He came and he went,” Phyliss replied. “He wanted to—as he put it—air out the car. Whatever that means. If he put the top down, wouldn’t it get plenty of air just sitting in the driveway?”

  “He meant the engine,” Judith said. “He’d better get back before rush hour starts or he won’t be able to go more than ten miles an hour on the freeway. Anything else I should know?”

  “Yes,” Phyliss responded. “One of your guests showed up. He’s in the living room.”

  “Mr. Irwin?” Judith asked in surprise.

  Phyliss shook her head, the gray sausage curls bobbing. “No. One of those peculiar people who was here over the weekend.”

  “Oh, no!” Judith rushed off through the kitchen. When she reached the living room, she saw a bedraggled Rodney Schmuck collapsed on one of the matching sofas.

  “Hi, Mama,” he said in a ragged voice. “I came home.”

  For once, Judith chose not to reprimand him for calling her Mama. She noticed there was a rip in his pants and his sport shirt was dirty. “How did you get here?”

  “The bus,” he replied. “Two buses. Or was it three? I forget. Can I have a drink, Mama? I’m beat.”

  Judith hesitated. “How about a mug of hot coffee?”

  Rodney shook his head. “Coffee gives me a gut ache.”

  Judith relented. “Just a short one, okay?”

  Rodney frowned, but nodded. “Mama knows best. I guess.”

 

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