by Mary Daheim
Judith allowed Bob to help her stand up. Except for a very sore neck, she felt almost human. She gazed at the bog, though avoided looking at Fromm’s body. “I can’t believe there’s gold on our property.”
Bob smiled. “There isn’t.”
Judith turned swiftly. “There isn’t? You mean those chests are empty?”
“No, no.” Bob’s smile became ironic. “They’re full of gold. But they’re not on your property. They never were.”
Judith was flabbergasted. “What do you mean?”
“Have you ever noticed how the highway takes a slight bend by the bog?” He saw Judith nod, though she still looked confused. “The road was built around it because of the swampy ground. The Stillasnowamish owned this land, and when it was sold to your family, it was surveyed in a straight line, allowing for six feet on each side for future highway expansion. You may recall that when you were young, the road was gravel. After the war, it was widened and resurfaced. Thus, the bog has always been owned by our tribe. We knew it was unlikely that the Grover clan would ever dig in that swampy area. It was a dangerous place. But last week, when we heard that something odd was going on, our tribal attorney wrote you a letter to inform you that the bog was off-limits as far as your building plans were concerned. I gather you never received the notification.”
Judith thought back to the mail that had piled up since she’d left for the resort. No doubt the letter was in the stack on the kitchen counter.
“Oh, dear.” she sighed. “You’re right. I was so involved with the renovations at home that I didn’t open Saturday’s mail. And Monday’s hadn’t come before we headed out of town.”
Bob shrugged. “No matter. Now you know.”
“So what are you going to do with the gold?” Judith inquired, still trying to sort through Bob’s revelation.
More vehicles were pulling up alongside the road. Judith could see that one of them was an ambulance. Bob glanced in that direction, then turned back to Judith. “We also own a hundred feet of property next to you, upriver. I considered leaving the treasure where it is. After all,” he added with a droll expression, “the resort casino is our real gold mine. But other tribes aren’t so fortunate. We can help them with our long-buried treasure. In exchange, we’ll deed you the property that includes the bog and the other hundred feet from river to road.”
“Oh!” Judith smiled a bit tremulously. “That’s very generous. But are you sure?”
Bob nodded. “Yes, quite sure.”
Judith stared briefly at Bob. “You seem to have a great deal of influence around here. And not just with the members of the Stillasnowamish tribe.”
“You mean,” Bob remarked wryly, “for a mere doorman?”
Judith was caught off guard. “Well—not exactly. That is…”
Bob smiled. “I am a mere doorman. I’m also the tribal chief.”
Dale Armstrong and his four-by-four arrived just as Bob was about to escort Judith back to the hotel. Abbott N. Costello showed up a minute later and promptly arrested Armstrong.
“Do you think Doc would have killed Dale after they got the gold out?” Judith asked Bob as Costello put the cuffs on the contractor.
“I’m afraid so,” Bob replied. “Doc didn’t seem to want to share.”
A decision was made that Emily would drive the Subaru back to the resort. Bob felt it best that Judith didn’t get behind the wheel until she’d had more time to recover. G. D. Fromm’s body would be removed as soon as possible. Judith avoided looking at the bog as they started for the gate. But she couldn’t ignore Doc Engelman’s body. It had been covered with a Native-American blanket depicting eagles and elk and rainbow trout.
Judith admired the tribe’s respect for the dead. But the beautifully crafted blanket didn’t seem right. As far as she was concerned, Engelman should have been covered in cheap plastic.
When Bob Bearclaw showed up with Judith on his arm, Joe couldn’t believe his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked in astonishment as he rose from his place next to Bill at the baccarat table. “Did you fall down again?”
“Sort of,” Judith replied in a lame voice.
Renie, who had been watching the husbands, scrutinized her cousin. “You look terrible. And your clothes are a mess.”
Bob suggested that they all go up to Pancho’s office. When the whole story was unraveled, Joe was aghast, Renie was incredulous, and even Bill’s usual stoic facade was severely cracked.
“I should have known,” Joe declared, holding his head. “You just had to come up against a killer and damned near get yourself whacked.” He stared hard at Judith. “But no more. You’ve lost the bet.”
For now, Judith didn’t care. “I just want to go to bed and sleep until noon. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow, including Bob’s offer.”
Joe agreed. After offering more thanks to Bob, the Flynns headed up to their room. When they got into the elevator on the second floor, Gertrude and Aunt Deb were already there. Neither of the old ladies had any idea of what had happened at the family property. Nor would they have to know, at least not now.
“Say, Toots,” said Gertrude to her daughter, “you look like the pigs ate your little brother. What did you do, walk into a wall?”
“Now, Gert,” Aunt Deb reprimanded, clutching a crystal trophy with the words “Most Outstanding Participant” etched on it, “don’t be so hard on Judith. She’s just a bit clumsy, like her poor old auntie.”
“Yeah?” Gertrude snapped. “That’s how you ended up in a wheelchair, isn’t it? At least I never broke my hip.”
“You still can’t walk very well,” Aunt Deb replied in an amiable tone, “or else you wouldn’t be riding around in a wheelchair, too. We should thank the good Lord that we’re still around.”
The elevator stopped at their floor.
“Maybe the good Lord doesn’t want us,” Gertrude said. She glanced at Deb. “Race you to the room.”
“You’re on,” Deb responded.
The two old girls went charging down the hall. Judith smiled. Joe merely shook his head.
It was almost eleven o’clock before Judith and Joe woke up the next morning. They had breakfast in their room and were just finishing when the phone rang.
It was Pancho Green, asking if Judith would be willing to attend a press conference in about an hour.
“Who called it?” Judith asked with a frown.
Pancho made a grumbling noise at the other end of the line. “Not us. Not even the Mandolini bunch, although they’re certainly going to use the staged murders as publicity.”
“Then who?” Judith persisted.
“You can’t expect a murder, a shoot-out with a killer, and a treasure trove not to make the news,” Pancho reasoned.
“Come on, don’t be coy,” Judith retorted. “Who?”
Pancho’s sigh was audible. “Sheriff Abbott N. Costello.”
Judith held her head. “Why am I not surprised?”
“He claims it all happened under his jurisdiction,” Pancho said.
Judith tried to ignore Joe’s inquisitive expression. “Tell Sheriff Costello that I’m indisposed. Tell him I’ve got mumps. Tell him good-bye.”
“But he told us he’d like to meet the famous Fatso,” Pancho said.
“He already has,” Judith replied and hung up.
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Joe insisted that Judith stay in bed and recover from her ordeal. She’d objected at first, but finally gave in. She was worn out, and her hip was bothering her. She wasn’t surprised that she took two long naps during the afternoon. When she finally woke, it was after seven P.M.
Joe was watching a basketball game with the TV sound off. He got up from the armchair when he heard Judith call his name.
“How are you?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Would you like to eat here or join Bill and Renie in the Johnny-Jump-Up Room? They have seven-thirty reservations, and we have a free meal, remember?”
Ju
dith waited a moment to clear the fog of sleep from her head. “It’s our last night. We’ve got to do something festive. It won’t take me long to get ready.”
The Flynns arrived in the restaurant by seven-forty. Renie and Bill were already there, seated away from the windows, which offered a panoramic view. Bill didn’t like heights. And Renie apparently couldn’t see. She was wearing dark glasses and a glum expression.
“Oh, no,” Judith exclaimed, “has your chronic corneal dystrophy come back?”
Every couple of years, Renie suffered a recurrence, but she usually wore an eye patch to speed her recovery. “No,” she snapped, yanking off the glasses. “That awful woman I keep running into gave me a black eye.”
Judith sat down and put an arm around her cousin. “Good grief! What happened?”
Renie sighed. “Since it’s our last day here, I thought I’d try the Black Leopard dollar machines. They were really paying off, so it was hard to find one that was open. I finally did, and on the first try, I hit a three-hundred-dollar jackpot. My nemesis was right behind me, claiming it was her machine and that she’d just gotten up to get change. That’s when we got into it.”
“She had her jacket over the back of the chair to reserve the machine,” Bill pointed out, no doubt for the third or fourth time.
“I didn’t see the damned jacket,” Renie retorted. “Besides, it’s a no-no to do that in most casinos.”
“Who won?” Joe asked.
“I did,” Renie said with an air of satisfaction. “Security came over, in the form of Amos Littlebird. I guess after all that’s happened with our party, he has a soft spot for us. Anyway, he broke up the fight after I busted the old bat’s glasses, and now she’s going to get charged with attempted homicide.”
“What?” Judith was incredulous.
Renie, who had put the sunglasses back on, smirked. “On a crazy whim, I accused her of trying to run us down in the parking garage and dropping that sandbag from the catwalk. She admitted it, and said she was damned sorry she missed me. Bill figures her for a nutcase. I think she’s just a jerk.”
Joe raised his glass of Scotch, which had just arrived. “To Serena Jones, world featherweight champ.”
“Here, here,” Renie echoed, then paused. “Hey—what about my taffeta skirt? Was that really blood on it?”
“Fake blood,” Joe replied. “It’ll come out. You must have run into Grisly. She impersonated Sally in the first part of the saber illusion. They had to wrap Sally in the cape to move her into the Corvette. Grisly couldn’t impersonate Sally for the conclusion. She doesn’t have the figure for it, so they put one of the mannequins in the cabinet and brought the curtain down fast. They also had a mannequin of Freddy and one of Micki, in case she had to stand in for Sally.”
“So,” Judith mused, “the redheaded mannequin was placed in the ’Vette just to add to my confusion?”
Joe nodded. “They didn’t need a power failure for that. They did it in the wee small hours when the casino was virtually empty.”
Judith’s dark eyes narrowed. “What about that threatening note in my purse?”
Joe looked sheepish. “I did that.”
“No!” Judith burst out. “That wasn’t your handwriting!”
“It looked odd because I wrote it when the lights went out in the coffee shop and put it in your purse while you were sitting with Lloyd Watts.”
“You twit,” Judith said, but she lacked the energy to be angry. “It certainly was an elaborate hoax.”
“Lloyd thought up most of the plan,” Joe said. “The Mandolini gang loved doing it. They really threw themselves into their parts.”
“Indeed,” she noted archly. “So what were you all doing at the sheriff’s office yesterday?”
“We weren’t at the sheriff’s office,” Joe replied, the gold flecks dancing in his green eyes. “We were playing poker in one of the meeting rooms on the second floor. I won two hundred bucks. Speaking of winning, when do you want to show me who you thought killed Sally and Micki?”
“Uh…” Judith grimaced. “Is that necessary? It was all a big joke, right? The bet’s not a real bet.”
“A bet’s a bet.” Joe was adamant. “With all your experience, you could have figured out that the so-called murders were a prank. Let’s face it, from what I could tell, you never ever had a handle on the case. Coming up against all those dead ends should have made you think twice about what was real and what was not.”
Judith’s mouth was in a tight line.
“The main thing,” Joe went on, “is that by not guessing correctly, you’ve agreed to stop getting mixed up in murders. Recent involvement notwithstanding.”
Judith got up from her chair. “All right. Let’s get it over with. If we don’t, I’ll lose my appetite.”
Joe also rose from the table. He glanced at Bill and Renie. “You coming?”
Renie shook her head. “I want to try to read my favorite literature—the menu.”
Bill said he’d stay with Renie to help her.
Five minutes later, the Flynns were at the cashier’s window on the casino floor. Dolly was on duty, agog when she recognized Judith.
“Oh, sweetie, I heard about what happened to you last night!” Dolly exclaimed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” Judith replied, handing over her receipt.
Dolly leaned closer, looking at Joe. “So this is Mr. Flynn?”
“It always has been.” Joe smiled.
Dolly let out a gusty laugh. “Okay, be right back.”
Judith and Joe waited in silence. She looked grim; he seemed smug.
Dolly returned, holding four envelopes. “This morning, Mrs. Jones asked me to put her envelope with yours. I assume you wanted everything out of the safe?”
“Ah…” Judith winced. “Yes, I guess so. We’re checking out tomorrow.”
Joe eyed the envelopes. “Don’t tell me you made four guesses. That’s cheating.”
“No,” Judith replied, then thanked Dolly, who wished the Flynns good luck. “I had some windfalls,” Judith remarked as they walked away. “Shall I show you the name now?”
Joe suggested that they return to the Johnny-JumpUp Room. “You should do it front of the Joneses,” he said, heading for the elevators. “That way, if you lose your mind over the bet, Bill can help you.”
“Very funny.”
“What about those other envelopes?” Joe inquired as they waited for the express elevator that went straight to the penthouse restaurant.
“They’re a surprise for after we get home,” Judith replied. “A good surprise.”
Joe looked curious, but didn’t badger Judith further. By the time they rejoined Renie and Bill, a waiter was serving various appetizers.
“Well?” Renie asked. “Did she or didn’t she?”
“We’ll soon find out,” Joe said, sitting down again.
Judith handed the envelope to Joe. “You open it.”
“Okay.” His movements were deliberately slow. When he finally read what was on the slip of paper, his jaw dropped. “I don’t believe it. You win.”
Judith stared. “What?”
“I don’t know how you did it. You seemed as amazed as anyone when Sally and Micki were restored to life.”
“I was,” Judith answered with a frown. “But what has—”
“Stop the suspense. Either read it aloud or give it to us.” Renie lunged at Joe.
He held the slip of paper just out of Renie’s reach. “Okay.” Joe cleared his throat. “My lovely bride has written, ‘It’sNobodyAtAll.’”
Judith looked as stunned as Bill and Renie. “I did? I mean, I did write that down.” Feeling her cheeks grow warm as she remembered making a notation of the long shot that had won her big bucks, Judith turned to Renie. “You wanted me to…er…ah…mmm…”
“Yes,” Renie intervened. “I wanted you to do that. You win.”
Joe was shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.”
Joe and Bill were herding the old ladies and the luggage. Judith and Renie were checking out. Judith looked over the room charges and shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said to the desk clerk whose name tag identified her as “Willow Windrush,” “but there’s a mistake for the Grover room. What’s this eight hundred and fifty-six dollar charge for?”
Willow examined the bill. “It’s for keno games,” she said. “See the symbol next to it? HTVK stands for ‘House Television Keno.’”
“Good grief!” Judith cried. “I forgot all about Mother playing keno!”
Willow again pointed to the charge. “She won a few. There’s a thirty-dollar credit.”
“Great.” Judith signed off. At least her winnings of $5,800 would cover it, though she knew she needed every cent to pay for the new furnace and the overrun costs at Hillside Manor. At least the keno games had kept her mother occupied.
It was drizzling as Judith and Renie went out to meet their husbands and mothers. The old ladies were being loaded into the Camry and the Subaru. Judith decided not to say anything to Gertrude about her gambling losses. What was done was history.
Bob Bearclaw was wishing the old girls a safe trip. He turned when he saw Judith and tipped his cap. “You’re a brave woman. May the wind always blow in your favor. But,” he added, taking Judith’s hand, “be careful. Evil exists.”
“I know,” Judith said, squeezing Bob’s fingers. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
Bob didn’t respond. Instead, he looked into Judith’s eyes as if he were trying to impart some of his own wisdom to her.
As she walked away to get into the Subaru, she heard the sound of a bird somewhere in the trees. It wasn’t the flicker, but a songbird. Judith glanced up into the branches of a tall hemlock. She recognized the bright yellow coloring and black wings. The bird was a goldfinch.