Here Comes the Bribe

by Mary Daheim

  Renie laughed. “Being grounded by Joe isn’t hampering your style. Just stay put and see who shows up next.”

  “You did,” Judith said.

  “Don’t sound so disappointed,” Renie retorted. “As long as you have to stick around here, why don’t you make some cookies?”

  Judith glanced at the clock. “It’s after four. I still haven’t figured out what kind of appetizers to fix for the guests.”

  “Are any of this group suspicious?” Renie asked.

  “No, just ordinary folks, and more to come for the holiday weekend.” Judith got up from the kitchen chair. “I could make salmon pâté. Where’s the new purse you bought?”

  “I left it in the car,” Renie said. “It’s puce, with silver studs. I haven’t got a thing to go with it. Oh, well. Where’s Joe? I didn’t see the MG in the drive.”

  “He went to the hardware store,” Judith replied. “You know how men can take forever at a hardware store. It’s like kids in a toy shop.”

  “Boys and their toys,” Renie murmured. “How come Joe isn’t working much this week?”

  “Good question. Of course he had to wait to get the car fixed and then deal with that, but we could use the money.”

  “Who couldn’t? Bill hasn’t seen any clients the last few days. I asked him why and he told me they were all nuts. I refrained from mentioning that’s what brings in the big bucks. I still think he should have a sit-down with Rodney.”

  “I’d like to listen in on that one,” Judith said as she went down the hall to fetch a can of smoked salmon from the pantry. When she returned to the kitchen, Renie asked if she’d heard from Arlene.

  “No,” Judith replied, opening the can. “That bothers me. I wonder if their kids have any idea that they’re still at Heaven’s Gate.”

  “They’ve actually only been gone for a full day,” Renie pointed out.

  “True, but the Rankerses’ offspring stop by fairly often for one reason or . . .” The doorbell rang again. “I hope that’s not guests arriving early,” she said, heading out of the kitchen.

  “Let me come with you,” Renie volunteered. “If they’re early birds, I’ll shoo them away.”

  “No, you won’t,” Judith asserted. “It does happen once in a while.”

  To both the cousins’ surprise, a grim-faced Reverend Kindred stood on the porch. “We need to talk,” he said.

  Judith stepped aside. Kindred moved purposefully into the living room, but didn’t sit down. He cleared his throat and spoke in his most formal manner. “In the name of our Lord, where is Rodney?”

  “Not here,” Judith replied. “Go ahead, search the house.”

  Kindred shook his head. “I believe you. But I think you know where he is. The Lord despises subterfuge. Tell me where I can find him.”

  “I don’t know,” Judith said. “That’s the truth. Why did he run away from his own home in the first place?”

  “Because he’s unwell up here,” the rev replied, tapping his temple. “Demon rum. It ruins the brain cells along with the disposition.”

  “Really?” Renie said. “Is that what happened to you? I’m so sorry! No wonder you got religion.”

  Kindred’s long face darkened. “Of course not! Lips that touch liquor will never touch mine!”

  “Good,” Renie retorted. “Then I’m safe from any lecherous advances you might make.” On that note, she flounced out of the living room.

  Judith ground her teeth before she spoke. “My cousin sometimes speaks without thinking. I apologize.”

  “She’s very rude,” Kindred declared. “But I forgive her, as the Lord commands me. Maybe, like poor Rodney, she suffers from her own demons. We’re trying to find him so he can get help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  The rev suddenly seemed fascinated with the view from the bay window. “You know—a place where he could improve his mental health.”

  “Do you think that’s his only problem?” Judith asked, wishing Kindred would look her in the eye—or at least sit down.

  “We all have problems,” he murmured, now studying the grandfather clock.

  Though tact was always preferable, Judith opted for candor. “Has Rodney always been a heavy drinker?”

  “Anyone who imbibes liquor has a problem,” the rev replied as the clock struck the quarter hour. He flinched before finally looking at Judith. “Doesn’t that hellacious noise drive you insane?”

  “No. I like it.” Judith’s patience was fraying. “I thought you might consider sending Rodney to a place that treats alcoholics.”

  “His problems go deeper than that,” Kindred said. “The soul, you know. It’s for his own good, and should be done as soon as possible.”

  “Would he consent?”

  The rev shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But the Lord—and the law—make provisions if he doesn’t agree.”

  “Then I gather someone in your group has a power of attorney.”

  Kindred flinched again. “I believe Stuart Wicks, being a lawyer, may have that. Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” Judith said. “Excuse me, I have to get ready for my guests. I’ll see you to the door.”

  If the rebuff bothered the rev, it didn’t show. “Bless you, my dear Mrs. Flipp. I’ll keep you in my prayers and see myself out.”

  Judith stayed in the living room until she heard the door shut.

  “What a jackass,” Renie declared when Judith returned to the kitchen. “How did you keep from telling him to stick it?”

  “It wasn’t easy. I assume you were listening from the hall.”

  “Of course.”

  Judith opened her recipe book. “Hey—what happened to the smoked salmon? The can’s empty!”

  “The cat,” Renie said with a shrug.

  Sweetums, however, was entering the hall through his little door. “You ate it!” Judith cried. “How could you? Did you take it with you to pig out while you were eavesdropping?”

  “No, I scooted back to the kitchen and grabbed it. I’m quick.”

  It was useless to get mad at Renie. Judith started for the pantry, but the phone rang again. “You answer it,” she said, and kept going.

  When she returned, Renie handed her the receiver. “It’s Cathy Rankers. She wants to know where her parents are. She says there’s two days’ worth of stuff in their mailbox.”

  “Damn,” Judith said under her breath, but took the receiver from Renie. “Hi, Cathy. Your folks are still working at Heaven’s Gate. It’s a big job, big yard, big—”

  “Judith,” Cathy broke in, “I don’t get it. Dad and Mom aren’t professional gardeners. Why did they go out there in the first place?”

  “It’s kind of a long story,” Judith began. “You know how curious your mother is. The guests who stayed here over the weekend are now living out there, but they canceled my payment for the B&B. Your parents, being so goodhearted, decided to—”

  “Stop.” Cathy’s tone carried authority. She was, after all, a successful Realtor. “This isn’t some kind of dangerous setup, is it? Don’t take me in the wrong way, but I know your history, Judith. You have a way of finding serious trouble even if you don’t go looking for it.”

  Judith didn’t waste time defending herself. “Have you tried calling your parents?”

  “Yes, of course,” Cathy replied. “But the cell battery must’ve run down. She left the charger here. I’m picking up Dick and we’re going out to Sunset Hills to see what’s going on.”

  “How will you and your brother get through the gate?” Judith asked, noting that Renie had left the kitchen. No doubt she was going to listen in on the phone in the living room.

  “One of my former clients lives there and Dick’s done repair work for them in the last year or so. Don’t worry, we know how to handle this.”

  Judith didn’t doubt that claim. “Okay, but keep me posted.”

  “Me, too,” Renie said.

  “Who’s there?” Cathy demanded. “Is that Serena?”


  “Who else?” Judith retorted. “She’s on the living room phone. Please be careful, Cathy. These people may be . . . sketchy.”

  “Ha!” Cathy exclaimed. “I’ve been in real estate for almost thirty years. You think I don’t know sketchy? Talk to you later.” She hung up.

  “I think,” Renie said, returning to the kitchen, “the cocktail hour has arrived early. I’ll make us each a short one.”

  “Why don’t you and Bill have dinner with us again tonight?” Judith suggested.

  “I’d have to go pick up Bill,” Renie replied. “He’s probably still taking his postwalk nap.” She smiled. “You’re antsy. You don’t want to be left alone.”

  “I won’t be alone,” Judith said. “Joe didn’t run away from home.”

  Renie was still smiling. “You know what I mean. You need your older if not always wiser cousin to prop you up while you’re grounded.”

  Judith smiled back. “You’re right. ‘Closer than sisters.’ Isn’t that what we’ve always said?”

  Renie nodded. “And the good part was that when we got mad at each other, we could ask our mothers to send the other one home.”

  Before Judith could respond, Joe came through the back door. “I squelched your latest harebrained idea,” he announced, hanging his jacket up in the hall.

  “What idea?” Judith asked.

  “Tyler Dooley,” Joe replied, entering the kitchen, where Renie was getting the liquor out of the cupboard. “Oh, hi. I should’ve guessed you’d show up to cheer your cousin.”

  “What about Tyler?” Judith asked. “I haven’t seen him today.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Joe asked, his green eyes narrowed.

  “Yes!” Judith snapped. “The only time I left the house was to have lunch with Mavis. I’ve been here ever since. Ask Renie. She knows what I’ve been doing.”

  “It’s true,” Renie said to Joe. “Stop acting like Torquemada. Your wife hasn’t had a very good day. In fact, why don’t you get back in the MG and pick up Bill? We’re having dinner here tonight.”

  “Again?” Joe said.

  “Hey!” Renie shouted. “Are Bill and I imposing on you? I provided the sockeye salmon last night, you jerk.”

  Joe sighed. “Okay, okay. I can’t take on both of you.”

  “What about Tyler?” Judith asked.

  “He called to me from over the fence just now,” Joe replied in his more normal tone. “One of the older kids—I can’t keep all of that brood straight—was heading out north after dinner to see one of his buddies. Tyler said he was going with him and getting dropped off at Sunset Hills so he could snoop around. I told him that was a bad idea.” He kept his gaze on Judith. “Was that your idea?”

  “No,” Judith said. “I agree with you about Tyler going out there. Did you convince him not to pull a stunt like that? How would he get in?”

  Joe shrugged. “Climbing the fence, maybe. It could be done by an agile kid. Hell, for all I know he could pole-vault over it.”

  Renie had picked up her purse. “I’m off. I’ve had a good time, but this wasn’t one of them.” She started for the back door.

  “Coz!” Judith cried, following her cousin into the hall. “Are you going to pick up Bill?”

  “No,” Renie replied, her hand on the doorknob. “I know when I’m not wanted. I intend to make beef Stroganoff for my husband and pamper him to pieces. Sometimes it’s hard to tell, but Bill actually likes me.” She slammed the door behind her.

  Judith returned to the kitchen and glared at Joe, who was pouring Scotch into two glasses. “Now see what you’ve done. You hurt Renie’s feelings.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Joe asserted. “She’s just mad because I got . . . cross with you.” He put his arms around Judith. “Are you going to walk out on me, too?”

  Judith leaned against him. “Of course not. But Renie’s right. I really didn’t have a very good day. Where were you all afternoon? I don’t see any bags from the hardware store.”

  “That’s because I left them in the garage,” Joe said. He kissed her forehead and let go. “After that, I went to see Woody.”

  “Oh?” Judith’s dark eyes brightened. “Did he have any news?”

  “He did,” Joe replied, after taking a sip of Scotch. “The autopsy report on Millie came in around four.”

  “And?”

  Joe set his glass on the counter. “The cause of death was confirmed as an accidental poisoning. But that wasn’t all that was in the findings. Millie was suffering from . . .” He paused, then slowly continued: “. . . cra-ni-o-pha-ryn-ge-o-ma.”

  “What on earth is that?”

  “In Millie’s case,” Joe answered with a pained expression, “it means she had an inoperable cancerous brain tumor. Millie had only a few months—maybe weeks—to live.”

  Chapter 25

  Judith’s suspicions were confirmed. There had been so many things that pointed in the direction of a serious, possibly fatal illness: the sheet of paper with cancer-related items; the trip to Zürich; the comment Belle had made about why her mother had to die—as if it were inevitable. And it was.

  After dinner, Judith felt upset. It was pointless to unload on Joe, so she called Renie from the kitchen. “I sensed something like this,” she said after giving her cousin the latest news. “I haven’t been able to come up with a viable motive for killing Millie. Not jealousy, not hatred, not even the money angle works because the one who benefits from her death is Belle and she’s already extremely rich. Besides, Belle doesn’t seem all that fond of money, so I can’t see her killing her mother to get even more. I suppose I should just forget about the whole thing, right?”

  “You can’t do that and you know it,” Renie shot back. “It’s either suicide or murder. If it’s the latter, then a crime has been committed. Do you think Millie knew she was dying?”

  “I don’t know,” Judith admitted. “Maybe she was never told. Does it matter now?”

  “Hey,” Renie argued, “you know it does. To you, if to no one else. Seeking truth and justice is your forte. Don’t quit now.”

  “This situation is different,” Judith said. “Every time I’ve gotten involved in a murder investigation, the killer has had one of the usual motives. You know what I mean—greed, jealousy, passion, revenge—whatever. But this was a mercy killing.”

  “I get that,” Renie agreed. “But who did it?”

  Judith was surprised by the question. “I assume either Rodney or Millie. Maybe the others didn’t know she was sick.”

  “Coz! That’s not worthy of you. Judging from what you just told me, Belle knew. If she knew, probably Clark knew, and so on down the line. You’re feeling sorry for the Schmucks right now. But you still don’t know the identity of the poisoner.”

  “You’re guilt-tripping me,” Judith said glumly. “Woody apparently doesn’t think it was a homicide. It’s been ruled an accidental death.”

  “I know, but that’s because he has no evidence to indicate otherwise.” Renie’s sigh was audible. “You’re right. I should shut up.”

  “That’s okay.” Judith paused. “If someone else put the poison in Millie’s juice, what’s the motive?”

  “Gain?” Renie suggested. “They’re doing their best to make sure Rodney can’t access his money. Now Belle seems to be the wealthy one.”

  “And she’s as scared as Rodney,” Judith mused. “We have to assume that Millie inherited money. I wonder what her maiden name was. It might be on the death certificate.”

  “If you hear from Rodney or Belle again, you could ask one of them.”

  “But they might not contact me. I wonder . . .” She broke off.

  “What?” Renie asked.

  “Did Jude hire a P.I. to follow me?”

  “Maybe she thought you could lead him to Rodney?”

  “Dubious,” Judith responded. “The problem is that the P.I. had already found out that Rodney lived in Sunset Hills. Jude sent those coins to him a month or so ago. I
’m wondering if her private eye is not the guy calling himself Ethan Ethanson, city inspector.”

  “Two P.I.s?” Renie sounded skeptical.

  “It’s not impossible,” Judith said. “But the phony inspector may not be a P.I. His reason for checking out the Schmucks could be personal. They might have a history of scamming people out of their property. He might be seeking revenge.”

  “Anything’s possible that involves the Schmuck bunch,” Renie allowed. “Hey—I’ve got to go. Bill’s ready for Munich.”

  “He wants to go to Germany?” Judith asked in surprise.

  “No, the movie,” Renie replied. “It’s about a counterattack on the terrorists at the Olympics in . . .” Bill’s voice could be heard in the background. “. . . Ja, mein Führer, I’m coming!” Renie hung up.

  Judith left the kitchen and went into the living room, where Joe was on the sofa reading an espionage novel. She sat down across from him and picked up the latest issue of Vogue. After a couple of minutes, she realized she hadn’t really taken in any of the first hundred pages she’d leafed through.

  I can’t focus on a single thing, she thought to herself. All I can think of is those Schmucks and their so-called friends. If I try to stop, I worry about Arlene and Carl. Did Cathy and Dick go out to Sunset Hills? Even if they got in, what happened after that?

  “What’s wrong?” Joe asked, finally looking up from his book.

  “Everything,” Judith replied. “I mean, everything about what’s gone on around here this last week. I’m going to call Cathy.” Ignoring her husband’s baleful look, she got up and went back to the kitchen.

  There was no answer. Judith knew Cathy had only the cell and her landline at the real estate office. But they closed at five. In all the years of living next door to the Rankerses, Judith had only Cathy’s office phone number. She flipped through the directory, but found no listing for Dick. In fact, the only Rankerses in the book were her parents and the real estate business.

  The doorbell rang. Judith wondered if one of her guests had forgotten to take the house key. But of course the door was unlocked. She and Joe never closed up the house until they went to bed. Glancing into the living room on her way down the hall, she noticed that Joe had nodded off. Apparently espionage wasn’t always riveting reading.