Gone With the Win: A Bed-And-Breakfast Mystery

by Mary Daheim

  “No, I’m not. I saw that car at the track,” Judith asserted, despite her earlier doubts. “Then he shows up here just before I got home. There’s got to be some link to Ruby, and thus, to her mother’s killer.”

  Carl patted Joe’s arm. “Second half’s about to start. Think I’ll leave you two to your discussion. Glad I found some . . . evidence.” He sauntered off down the back hall.

  Grimacing, Joe finally looked at the soiled sheets of paper. “Okay, they look genuine. Does this mean I have to interrogate your loathsome mother?”

  “No,” Judith replied. “Let Woody do that. She likes him. He can call her on the phone.”

  “I should’ve had Carl do it. She likes him, too.”

  “True.” Judith looked sheepish. “She only dislikes men I marry.”

  “Okay.” Joe seemed resigned. “We’re doing this as much for Woody as we are for Ruby.”

  Judith. “Thanks. I think I heard my latecomers arrive. I have to check them in.”

  Bob and Doris Schilling were from Toledo, Ohio and had had to change planes in Chicago. The fiftyish couple seemed frazzled, but relieved to have finally reached their destination. They were in town to visit their son and his wife, who lived in a one-bedroom apartment on the top of Heraldsgate Hill. Judith soothed the Schillings with a warm welcome before showing them to Room Four. She’d just come down to the living room, where Joe was now watching the football game.

  “Woody told me to say hi,” he said, not taking his eyes away from the flat-screen TV Judith had bought him for his August birthday.

  Judith sat down in the side chair that was closest to Joe’s recliner. “Did he ask if I was making progress?”

  “No. He’s a veteran cop. He won’t ask until you tell him. Woody probably doesn’t expect anything to come of all this.” Joe suddenly swore. “Another fumble! Can’t these clods hold on to the ball?”

  Judith decided it wasn’t the right time to discuss the cold case with her husband. She got up and was going back to the kitchen when Arlene came in through the back door.

  “Bridey is amazing!” she declared. “You should hire her instead of the Dooley kids.”

  “I don’t ‘hire’ anybody,” Judith said. “They volunteer.”

  “Then volunteer Bridey,” Arlene responded. “It’s too bad more crime doesn’t happen out on the Avenue. She’d be a treasure trove.”

  “Have a seat,” Judith offered, pulling out a chair for herself. “Can I get you some coffee or a soda?”

  “Goodness, no,” Arlene said, sitting down across from Judith. “It’s almost eight-thirty. Carl and I’ll be heading upstairs soon to watch TV before we go to bed.” She glanced around. “No sign of Ruby?”

  Judith shook her head. “Joe just got off the phone with Woody. I don’t think he told him about Ruby being gone. I suppose my worrying about her is silly, but still . . .”

  Arlene shrugged. “What’s the worst thing that could happen to her? She could be kidnapped by white slavers or Somalian pirates. Worse yet, she could be forced to watch C-SPAN for an entire week.”

  “I suppose,” Judith said vaguely. “Well? What did Bridey see?”

  “The car, coming up the hill and then gaining speed as Brick was crossing the street. It was a 2002 Acura TL, four-door, dark color. State license plate began with ROZ or POZ and then three numbers she didn’t catch. After hitting Brick, the car went even faster and out of sight.”

  Judith couldn’t help but be incredulous. “This ninety-year-old woman could tell all that in a few seconds?”

  Arlene made a face. “Of course she could. She and her late husband owned an automotive repair and restoration shop at the bottom of the hill for over forty years. They were both very knowledgeable about all kinds of cars. Bridey hasn’t lost her edge just because she’s lost her hearing. You might like to see her miniature car collection. Her spare bedroom is filled with little cars. Trucks, too, and even RVs.”

  “How is she with people? Did she describe the driver, too?”

  “Not in quite as much detail. She likes cars better than she likes people. As she told me, if she were a car, she could go to a restoration shop like they owned and get new ears put on. Or in.” Arlene paused. “Now, how would they do that? Oh, well. You know—like your hip replacement. In fact, why can’t they replace ears?”

  “I don’t know,” Judith replied. “The driver? Please?”

  “Oh, him.” Arlene sighed impatiently. “Probably Caucasian, maybe dark hair, no glasses, hatless, hairy and rather beefy hands. Maybe wearing a leather jacket. It looked shiny under the streetlight.”

  “Not bad,” Judith said, impressed. “Very detail-oriented.”

  “They did that, too.”

  “What?”

  “Detailing. Cars at their shop, of course. What else?”

  “Oh. Of course.” Judith sighed. “Those first three letters of the license plate may help along with the car’s description. Woody can check that plate through the system.”

  Arlene was on her feet. “Would he like to hire Bridey?”

  “The police department is short on funds,” Judith said, slowly getting up. She felt stiff as well as tired. “But she’s a very keen observer.”

  “You’d like her,” Arlene said as they headed for the back door. “Although a visit with her can be exhausting because you have to speak in SUCH A LOUD VOICE.”

  Judith gave another start. “Right, right. Thanks, Arlene. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Yes, you will.” From anyone else, it might’ve sounded like a threat.

  As soon as her neighbor had left, Judith called Renie. “Do you recall what the license plate was on that sports car that was ahead of us leaving the track?”

  “What sports car?”

  “The silver one. It may’ve been here just before I got home. By the way, Ruby’s sort of missing.”

  “Coz, it’s going on nine o’clock. Bill and I are watching Lonesome Dove for the tenth time, but we like it. I didn’t notice much about the car or the plate. I was still picking corn kernels off my small person.”

  “Sorry I asked,” Judith said. “I know you often notice—”

  “Ruby’s missing?” Renie suddenly exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I told you.” She went on to explain about the events that had taken place since returning to Hillside Manor.

  “Well,” Renie said when her cousin had finished, “that’s all really fascinating. But Gus, Call, and Deets have started driving the cattle to Montana. I don’t want to miss the part where they get to Ogallala.”

  Never having seen the miniseries, Judith gazed up at the high ceiling. “Fine. Go watch your damned TV show. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Hey—that’s my mother’s line!” Renie cried. “I swear you’ll turn into her eventually.”

  “So? You get more like my mother every day.”

  “Weird science. Oh—I’m missing a key scene with Elmira. Bye.”

  Wearily, Judith disconnected. Maybe she shouldn’t worry about Ruby. Having grown up in the area, she undoubtedly still knew some people. The note may have been written before she went out with friends and she’d forgotten to add anything more enlightening.

  “I’m going upstairs,” Judith announced to Joe. “How long is that game going to last?”

  He peered at the screen. “It says nine twenty-two, fourth quarter. I can watch the end of it upstairs if you’re in the mood for tackling me.”

  “I am not,” Judith declared. “I’m beat. Go ahead and lock up when you’re done. I hope Ruby remembered to take her key with her.”

  “Okay. Whoa! Interception! What a move!”

  Trying not to roll her eyes, Judith made her way to the back stairs. The two flights to the family quarters daunted her, but after pausing to take a deep breath, she finally staggered into the master bedroom. Flopping onto the bed to catch her breath, she gazed out the window. The wind was still up, causing the thick shrubbery alongside the house t
o scrape against the old wooden exterior. Apparently the rain had started after Arlene had gone home. Judith could hear a faint drip from one of the gutters. Plop-plop, plop, plop-plop . . . the rhythm soothed her. She was sound asleep by the time Joe came upstairs a half hour later.

  Feel better?” he asked when Judith joined him in the kitchen just before seven the next morning.

  “You should have woken me up. I don’t remember the last time I slept in my clothes. I never heard you come to bed.”

  Joe shrugged. “I shifted you around on the bed and tucked you in. You sort of mumbled, but that was it.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thanks. Who won the game?”

  Joe turned sheepish. “I don’t know. I fell asleep just before the two-minute warning. If some of the guests hadn’t come back a little after ten, I might have ended up sleeping in the recliner.”

  “Oh, Joe, are we getting old?”

  “Sure,” he said cheerfully. “That’s what people do. I don’t know of anybody whoever went in the other direction.”

  “Did Ruby come back?”

  “No idea,” Joe said, pouring coffee for both of them.

  “I thought you might’ve checked,” Judith murmured. “You knew I was worried.”

  “You didn’t check?” he inquired, sitting down at the table.

  Judith shook her head. “I was afraid to. Don’t you think one of us might’ve heard her go into the spare room?”

  “Not you. A rhinoceros could’ve roared through the family quarters last night and you’d have slept right through it.” He saw the dismal look on his wife’s face. “Okay, I’ll go up there now and see if she came back.”

  “Thanks,” Judith said meekly.

  Five minutes later, Joe was back in the kitchen. “Ruby’s still AWOL,” he said, his round face reflecting Judith’s concern. “Maybe I should call Woody. I might as well ask him if he can take a look at those sheets Carl found, but don’t expect anything.”

  “Don’t forget the license plate and the car description,” Judith said as she slipped bacon in a skillet. “I gather you’ve already eaten breakfast.”

  “Yes. What license plate and car description?”

  “Oh! I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night.” She put a piece of bread in the toaster before giving Joe a quick rundown of Bridey O’Leary’s information.

  “That’s the old lady who sits up front at SOTS?” Joe asked in surprise. “My God, she’s better than a trained observer!”

  “It’s her entertainment,” Judith said. “She’s very deaf. I assume she can still read, though.”

  “She sure can see,” he remarked. “Okay, I’ll call Woody after we get back from Mass. Since he sings in the choir at his Methodist church, he and Sondra usually don’t get home until twelve-thirty or so. Want me to make an omelet for your guests?”

  Judith gave him her most winsome look. “Would you?”

  He squeezed her chin. “Sure. Maybe I’ll make two different kinds.”

  The next hour was spent in preparation for the guests’ breakfast. Happily, none of them had dietary restrictions—a question Judith always posed on her registration forms. The first of the current visitors didn’t arrive until almost eight-thirty. Apparently the wind and rain had lulled them into a sound sleep, too.

  By ten forty-five, two of the couples lingered at the dining room table. Fortunately, they were both staying over until Monday. The departing guests had checked out a few minutes earlier.

  Joe, who had been upstairs going over his notes for Woody, arrived in the kitchen as Judith was scraping dirty plates. “Are we on schedule for eleven o’clock?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I want to finish loading the dishwasher first.”

  Our Lady, Star of the Sea was only five blocks away at the top of the hill, just off of Heraldsgate Avenue. Before Judith’s hip surgery, the Flynns often walked to the church in good weather. But in recent years, the steep climb and the precarious descent was too much for her.

  As she was turning the dishwasher on, the phone rang. Judith hurried to the counter to grab the receiver. A male voice inquired if she was the owner of Hillside Manor.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Are you asking about a reservation?”

  “No. I’m asking about a guest named Ruby Tooms. Is she there?”

  Judith’s grip tightened on the receiver. “No. May I give her a message?”

  “No. I’ll call back later. When do you expect her?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you want to leave your name?”

  There was a pause. “Sure,” he finally said. “Tell her Jess Sparks called.”

  Judith tensed. “Did you say Jess Sparks?”

  “Right. J-E-S-S. Thanks.” He rang off.

  Joe was in the hallway putting on his raincoat. “What was that all about? You look odd.”

  “A guy named Jess Sparks calling for Ruby,” Judith said vaguely, checking the caller ID. “Damn—I answered it so fast the number didn’t register.”

  “Old flame of Ruby’s?”

  Judith glanced around the kitchen to make sure everything had been turned off. “I doubt it. Remember, the old guy in the nursing home was Hector Sparks. He had a daughter, but no son that I know of. So how is Jess connected to Marla and Lee Watkins?”

  “Can we play this game after Mass? I don’t have my scorecard handy. Let’s go. It’s still raining, by the way, so I’ll drive your car. It saves wear and tear on my MG. I like it when I can put the top down.”

  By the time the Flynns got inside the church, Bill and Renie were already there, sitting in front of Carl and Arlene. Both pews were full. Judith and Joe found a place two rows back. After saying her prayers, Judith craned her neck to see Bridey O’Leary in the front row. But too many people blocked her view.

  Father Hoyle based his homily on the gospel reading for the day about the five foolish virgins who ran out of oil while awaiting the bridegroom. Joe leaned over to whisper in Judith’s ear that finding five virgins of any kind these days was a problem from the get-go. Judith gave him a dirty look and elbowed him in the ribs. But as ever, their pastor’s sermon was articulate and thought-provoking—even if Bill remarked after Mass that the reading should be updated so that the virgins ran out of gas. Renie told him that with his chronic bad stomach, at least he never ran out of gas. On that note, the Joneses and the Flynns went to their respective cars.

  By the time the Flynns got home, the rain had let up, though the wind was still gusting. Judith checked for phone messages, but there were none. She immediately reminded Joe to call Woody. “This is beyond just a night on the town,” she asserted.

  Joe reluctantly agreed. “I’ll call him in about twenty minutes.”

  “Thanks.” Judith smiled. “You have to admit it’s worrisome.”

  “I’d worry more if Ruby hadn’t taken her suitcase,” Joe said. “If someone is being kidnapped, they don’t usually get a chance to pack before they leave.”

  “What if she was held at gunpoint?”

  Joe shook his head and started for the back stairs.

  The dishwasher’s green light glowed, so Judith unloaded it. Feeling at loose ends, she headed for the front hall to go upstairs and make the beds. Three rooms would be occupied by holdovers and she had only one new reservation—for the single room. Maybe someone would arrive unexpectedly by Monday. It happened occasionally when other B&Bs were already full or someone came to town without a reservation.

  She got as far as the credenza. Another note caught her eye. Anxiously, she picked it up and read what looked like hastily scrawled words: Didn’t mean to run out on you, but Ozzie came to town and he and Freddy Mae had an extra bed at their hotel, so am staying with them. Thanks for your help. Sorry I caused any trouble. Ozzie says we should let the past stay in the past. Guess he’s right. XXX OOO Ruby.

  “Damn!” Judith swore under her breath. She felt like crumpling up the note and tossing it in the recycling bin. She’d have to tell Joe to forget about informing W
oody that Ruby was missing. But halfway back to the kitchen, she had qualms. How had Ozzie known where to find Ruby? Why had she left the first note and not a follow-up? And why was she so quick to give up the search for her mother’s killer?

  Judith sat down at the kitchen table and dialed Renie’s number.

  “What are you doing?” she asked her cousin.

  “Looking at the paper. Why?”

  “Have you and Bill got any plans for today?”

  “No, just the usual. Bill takes his long walk, then his nap, then we eat dinner. Meanwhile, I’ll try to get some work done. Why,” Renie went on, sounding wary, “do you ask?”

  “Can you spare me a half hour or so? I’ve got a problem.”

  “Is it something to do with Joe?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Judith assured her.

  “Then why can’t you talk to him?”

  “Because . . . well, because he doesn’t always humor me when it comes to what he considers my flights of homicidal fancy.”

  “Oh—Ruby, I suppose. Is she still gone?”

  “Yes—in a way.”

  Renie’s sigh could be heard at the other end. “Okay—let me finish the arts and entertainment section and I‘ll be there.”

  “Thanks, coz,” Judith said humbly.

  “Hey—should I bring Oscar? He’s having trouble with this Sunday’s crossword puzzle.”

  “Coz . . .”

  “Never mind. See you.” Renie hung up.

  Judith figured she had time to make up at least two of the bedrooms. Usually on Sundays, when Phyliss was praying her way through the Sabbath, Joe helped with preparations. But by the time Judith pitched the soiled linens down the laundry chute and had gone downstairs, he apparently was still in the family quarters. Maybe Woody and Sondra hadn’t gotten back from church yet. Renie appeared before Judith could pour herself a cup of coffee.

  “Want some?” Judith asked her cousin.

  “No thanks,” Renie said, sitting at the kitchen table. “I might grab a Pepsi later. Okay, what’s got you in a tizzy now?”

  Judith showed her cousin the note. “Apparently this was dropped off while we were at church.”