Hocus Croakus

by Mary Daheim

  Renie made a face. “Of course not. I…” She stopped, raising a finger. “Wait. Do you remember when we were coming out of the rest room and groping our way through the dark? Somebody did bump into me.”

  “You didn’t feel dampish?” Judith inquired.

  “No. The skirt has an underskirt. You know, in case I win a big jackpot and wet my pants. Ha, ha.”

  “At our age, that’s not so funny,” Judith remarked. Making sure her purse was securely shut, she stood up. “I’m going to put this money in the hotel safe. Why don’t you come with me and then we’ll get your skirt so we can turn it over to Joe.”

  “Okay,” Renie agreed, tucking the futures list into a huge purse that—appropriately enough—resembled a horse’s feed bag. “I haven’t exactly been raking in the money today.”

  Judith gave Renie a skeptical look. “In other words, you’ve exceeded your daily gambling allowance already?”

  “Let’s say that I’ve exceeded it through Friday,” Renie admitted as they went out onto the casino floor. “Of course, I pointed out to Bill that you can’t win if you’re not gambling.”

  Dolly wasn’t on duty at the cashier’s window. Instead, an older woman with long silver hair stood behind the counter. Judith counted out the fourteen one-hundred-dollar bills. “I can’t make up my mind what to do with this cash. Maybe I should put it in the safe with my other things,” she said, feigning confusion. “Could you check to see what’s in there now, please? It’s under ‘Fromm.’”

  The cashier, whose name was Ella, didn’t look surprised. But Renie did. When Ella had gone to the back room, Renie moved closer to her cousin. “What are you trying to pull now?” she demanded.

  “I forgot to tell you about the gold nuggets,” Judith whispered. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten. Maybe, between homicide and home improvements, I have too much on my mind.”

  Ella returned, looking worried. “There’s no Mrs. Fromm listed, ma’am, only a Mr. Fromm. I’m going to have to see your ID.”

  Judith slapped a hand to her head. “Of course! How stupid of me! Never mind.” She paused, turning very somber. “As long as the gold nuggets are there, it’s fine. There was a mix-up earlier. You wouldn’t mind taking a peek just so I don’t have to worry about them.”

  “They’re there,” Ella replied, though her concerned expression remained. “I checked on them earlier for Mr. Fromm. Have you decided whether or not you want a cashier’s check, Mrs. Fromm?”

  “Yes,” Judith responded, yanking on Renie’s sleeve, “but I’m making a gift of these winnings to my sister. Here, she can give you the information. The name is Jones, Serena Jones.”

  Renie opened her mouth to protest, but Judith enfolded her in a bear hug. “You deserve it, darling! After all the money you raised to send me to Lourdes for my miraculous cure!” Under her breath, Judith added, “Do it and shut up.”

  In a wooden manner, Renie went through the required motions. When the cousins were a good thirty feet from the cashier’s cage, Judith explained why the ruse was necessary.

  “I took a chance,” she said as they strolled toward the elevators. “A mistake had obviously been made. What would be most likely? The boxes in the safe are filed alphabetically. So the gold nuggets in my box probably belonged to somebody else whose last name begins with F. Ergo, the man with the gold dust on his coat, G. D. Fromm.”

  “You could be arrested for fraud,” Renie pointed out, poking the Up button for the elevator. “What if Ella is suspicious?”

  “I’ll deal with that when and if it happens,” Judith said, though she looked a bit grim. “The usual cashier is Dolly, and I think we may have bonded. She’ll figure I just got mixed up.”

  “Maybe I should keep the money in case I have to bail you out of jail,” Renie said as they got into the elevator.

  “The important thing is, where did the nuggets come from?” Judith mused as they arrived at their floor. “Is it possible they were found on the family property?”

  “I can’t imagine,” Renie said. She stopped in front of their mothers’ room. “Should we?”

  “Isn’t your mom at the conference?”

  Renie shook her head. “This was to be a free afternoon. The conferees could do what they pleased—skiing, hiking, gambling, trying to kill their roommates.”

  Judith sighed. “I suppose. We are dutiful daughters.”

  She rapped on the door. There was no response. She rapped again. And again.

  “I can’t hear the TV,” Judith said, pressing her ear against the door. “Maybe they’re taking a nap.”

  “Maybe,” Renie allowed. “Have you got a key card to their room?”

  “Yes,” Judith said, digging into her purse. “I had them give me an extra, just in case.”

  The small green light turned on; Judith opened the door.

  Gertrude was on the telephone; Aunt Deb was on a cell phone. Both seemed engrossed in their conversations.

  “Goodness!” Judith breathed, standing in the doorway with Renie next to her. “My mother on the phone?”

  “My mother on a cell phone?” Renie whispered.

  “You bet your big bottom I want script approval,” Gertrude was saying. “Who knows what he might write about me? I thought you weren’t sure if Dade Costello was still on the A-list after that dumb-cluck producer’s big flop. You’re my agent, Eugie, you work it out. Just send the money in a big armored truck and make sure the nitwits driving it have guns.”

  “Yes,” Aunt Deb said, “I do know quite a bit about the timber industry. My late husband and my father worked in it…A slogan?…That’s not exactly a design, is it, dear?…Well, I suppose I could. What comes to mind, of course, is that only God can make a tree. What if you said only God and Wirehoser can make a tree?…You like it?…Heavens, it was just off the top of my poor old addled head…”

  Judith quietly closed the door. The cousins exchanged bemused looks in the corridor.

  “Do you really think either of them can make a buck in their dotage?” Renie asked.

  “More power to them, if they can,” Judith replied.

  Renie opened the door to the Joneses’s room. “Ooops!” She put a finger to her lips. “Bill’s taking a nap. Stay in the hall, I’ll grab the skirt.”

  It didn’t take Renie a full minute to complete her task. “Now,” she inquired, “how do we find Joe?”

  “Good question,” Judith responded. “We could page him, or go to Pancho’s office where they all seem to sit around on their dead butts and not solve the case.”

  “Try the page first,” Renie suggested. “You can do it from your room.”

  The cousins moved back down the hall. Judith slipped the key card in and opened the door. To her surprise, Joe was also taking a nap.

  “Oh, good grief!” she exclaimed, backing out of the room and shutting the door, though not so softly. “Joe never takes naps at home!”

  “Oh?” Renie looked amused. “What do you bet he does when he’s on a surveillance job?”

  “Well…” Judith stroked her chin. “Maybe that’s why he sometimes takes so long to finish an assignment. Of course he does get paid by the hour.”

  A rumpled Joe Flynn in an even more rumpled blue bathrobe yanked the door open. “What now?” he asked in a groggy voice.

  “Skirt,” Renie barked, shoving the garment at Joe. “Dried blood. Check it out. ’Bye.” She trotted off toward the elevators.

  “Hey!” Joe called after her.

  Renie didn’t turn around. Judith put a hand on her husband’s arm. “We didn’t know you were asleep.”

  Joe’s expression was defensive. “I was resting my eyes. We took an hour’s break.”

  “That’s fine,” Judith said, smiling in an understanding, wifely way. “Renie discovered there’s dried blood on the skirt she wore the night that Sally was murdered. We thought maybe the lab should check it out.”

  Joe made a grumpy noise. “Sheriff Costello moves with the speed of old
glue. We haven’t gotten a damned thing back from him so far. It’s no wonder we’re bogged down in this investigation.”

  Judith pointed to the skirt, which was draped over Joe’s other arm. “It does look as if it could be blood. What do you think?”

  Joe held up the skirt, which rustled softly as he turned it around to catch the light. “Oh. I see what she means. Hunh. It might be, at that.”

  “Of course we won’t know whose blood,” Judith noted, “except that it’s not Renie’s. Someone might have brushed up against her when we were in the rest room during the blackout.”

  “Okay.” Joe folded the skirt over four times. “I don’t have an evidence bag here. I’ll put it in one of the hotel’s laundry bags.”

  “Thanks.” Judith wondered if she should tell Joe about the gold nuggets and the gold dust. Out of the corner of her eye, Judith could see Renie doing a graceless little dance by the elevators. It was a sign that her cousin was growing impatient. “Are we having dinner together?” Judith asked her husband as she retreated from the threshold and into the hallway.

  “Sure,” Joe said. “Let’s live it up and eat in the salmon house. I’ll meet you here around six.” He started back into the room, but stopped. “How’d it go at the house this morning?”

  “It went,” Judith replied. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “If,” Renie said when they were in the elevator, “I was a betting woman—which I am—I’d give you twoto-one odds that Joe never leaves the room until it’s time for dinner.”

  “I suppose he’s tired,” Judith said. “He expected a vacation, not a job. The last few months have been hard on us both. By the way, Joe wants to eat in the salmon house tonight. Could you and Bill join us?”

  “Sure,” Renie replied as the elevator came to a halt. “I’ll wait tables and Bill can be one of the line cooks.”

  Judith made a face at Renie. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Well…Not quite. Sure, we’ll—” As the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, Renie gave a start. “We’re in the basement. Didn’t you poke One?”

  “No. I thought you did. One of us must have bumped B by accident.” Judith stepped out of the elevator. “Wait a minute—this is the underground parking area. Is there a P on the elevator panel?”

  Renie was still in the car. “Yes, there are two—P/1 and P/2. We’re on P/1.”

  “As long as we’re here…,” Judith began.

  “Oh, no,” Renie protested, “we’re not going to search parked cars. Come on, coz, let’s go back up.”

  Judith had to admit that there was no reason to look around the garage. “You’re right,” she said, starting back into the elevator. “I don’t know what I was thinking of.”

  She had just stepped inside when shouts erupted.

  “Rats!” Renie said under her breath. “What’s that?”

  Both cousins exited the elevator. Listening intently, they could make out the raised voices of a man and a woman. It sounded as if they were engaged in a fierce argument.

  “It’s coming from over there,” Judith finally said, pointing to their left. “Dare we?”

  “Offhand,” Renie replied dryly, “I say we don’t. Getting mixed up in other people’s quarrels is definitely a bad idea.”

  “Define ‘getting mixed up,’” Judith said softly. She began to move quietly in the direction of the argument.

  “Damn!” Renie swore under her breath. “I won’t let you go alone, you reckless fool!”

  Judith and Renie ducked behind the cars as they approached the source of the noise. The concrete pillars were numbered with red paint. The cousins had advanced to 1 D. The loud voices seemed to be in the vicinity of 1 H.

  By the time they reached 1 F, Judith not only could identify the combatants, but she could catch most of the heated exchange.

  “You’re slime!” Inga Polson shouted. “I want you out of here! I never want to see you again!”

  “Listen, you old bat,” G. D. Fromm roared, “if it weren’t for me, that halfwit brother of yours would be doing card tricks on senior citizen bus tours!”

  With Renie behind her, Judith reached 1 G and stopped, leaning against a steel-gray SUV. The cousins were separated from Inga and G.D. by only two rows of vehicles. They couldn’t see either of the adversaries, but every word was loud and clear.

  “You’re nothing but a leech!” Inga cried. “You chased us down in Reno and practically begged us to let you manage Freddy! You were broke, your wife had thrown you out, you were practically living in a cardboard box! When I seize an opportunity to advance my brother’s career, you don’t argue, you go along—or you go, period.” Inga paused for breath. “Now look at this other mess you’ve got me into!”

  “That’s not my fault!” G.D. shot back. “Don’t blame me for your wretched personal problems! How was I to know about your aberration?”

  “Aberration, indeed!” Inga was panting a bit, her deep voice growing hoarse. When she spoke again, it was more softly. “I’m going to my room now. I want your resignation by six o’clock.”

  The cousins stayed hidden behind the SUV as Inga’s flat-footed steps came closer. Fortunately, she turned down the aisle instead of cutting across to the elevators. There was no sound from G. D. Fromm. Judith and Renie stayed put.

  Inga’s footsteps faded. “Elevator?” Renie mouthed at Judith.

  Judith nodded. But G.D. didn’t seem to budge.

  Renie sank down onto the concrete floor. “How long, oh Lord?” she whispered.

  Judith shrugged just before she heard G.D. walk rapidly away. A moment later a car door opened, slammed shut, and the engine was turned on. The vehicle’s tires squealed as it roared out of the garage.

  Renie struggled back to her feet. “At least I didn’t sit on a grease spot,” she said, checking out her slacks. “What do you figure that was all about?”

  “Other than dissension in the ranks?” Judith shook her head as the cousins walked toward the elevators. “I’m not sure. But I can’t figure out how two such strong personalities could work in tandem.”

  Renie didn’t get a chance to respond. A mid-size sedan that apparently had just entered the parking garage suddenly picked up speed and hurtled in their direction. Judith lurched to her right; Renie leaped to her left. The car kept going, screeching as it made a sharp turn to avoid hitting the wall.

  “What the hell?” Renie panted, clinging to the hood of a blue BMW. “That idiot came so close that I could almost feel it!”

  “I couldn’t see who was driving,” Judith replied, also gasping for breath. She tested her artificial hip. Nothing seemed amiss. “The car must have tinted windows.

  “Maybe,” Judith continued, “it was just a valet showing off. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been in parking garages where the tires squealed like a pig farm every time one of the guys brought out a car.”

  “True,” Renie agreed, punching the Up button. “I know they have to be quick, but I always feel as if Cammy’s being abused.”

  “I suppose,” Judith said as the elevator doors opened, “we could check with Bob Bearclaw to see who’s entered the garage in the last five minutes. But I wouldn’t want to get one of those valets in trouble. They’re just kids.”

  Arriving on the casino floor, the cousins couldn’t believe their eyes. A full-fledged scuffle had broken out just a few feet away. Judging from the jeans and cowboy boots on one side and the long hair and flannel shirts on the other, a battle of the bands had erupted. Three security guards—Emily Dancingdoe, Amos Littlebird, and Ronnie Roughrocks—were trying to pull them apart.

  “Good grief,” Judith gasped. “What now?” Sheriff Abbott N. Costello and Deputy Dabney Plummer pushed their way through the melee. “Hold it!” Costello shouted. “I’m counting to three and then I draw my piece!”

  Renie leaned closer to Judith. “I’m glad he’s not counting to ten. As I recall, Costello’s too dumb to get that far.”

  No one paid any attent
ion to the sheriff. Bob Bearclaw came up behind Costello and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Let me take care of this,” Bob said quietly. “I don’t want a gun going off in here. Someone could get hurt.”

  “Hurt?” Costello shouted. “You don’t call this hurt? Hell, they could kill each other!”

  “No.” Bob shook his head, moving straight into the fracas. “It’s a matter of pride,” he asserted, putting up a hand to block a fist aimed at someone else’s face. “They represent two generations, two styles of music. They’re defending their artistic honor.”

  “Bull!” Costello burst out. “They’re just a bunch of brawlers! They need some time in the slammer to cool off.”

  “They need to become civilized,” Bob declared, grasping the collars of two opponents who were locked in combat. “You’re both victorious,” he said calmly as he pulled them apart. “You’ve demonstrated stamina, bravery, and determination. And you’re still standing up.”

  The melee began to subside. A few of the participants were regarding Bob with awe.

  “See,” he pointed out to Costello. “The fight is over. Well done, my friends,” he said in salute. “You’ve shown your mettle.” He turned back to the sheriff. “Let’s step aside so the medics can attend to the injured.”

  Costello turned to Dabney Plummer. “Damnedest thing I ever saw,” he muttered.

  “Who won?” The query came from several onlookers.

  Bob acknowledged the crowd. “Everybody won. They’ve proved their manhood. Would you please clear the area? Thank you very much.” The cousins kept close to the wall, avoiding any of the fallen combatants. Eventually, they made it into the casino area, where clusters of guests were discussing the excitement and, in some cases, arguing over the nondecision.

  “Now what do we do?” Renie asked.

  Judith looked at her watch. “It’s after five. I suppose we could have a predinner drink. The Summer Bar is closest.”

  Instead of music, the sound of the river was piped into the bar. The illusion was heightened by a small stream that rippled around the bar’s perimeter. Judith admired the artificial cottonwood and alder saplings, along with the various replicas of Alpine flowers. What intrigued her most, however, were the salmonberries and huckleberries and thimbleberries that looked good enough to eat.