A Case of Bier

by Mary Daheim

  “Of course,” Judith said with a smile. “Our aunt Ellen and uncle Win live in Beatrice and have season tickets. They inherited them from his father, who owned a farm equipment store.”

  “Don’t know Beatrice that well,” Pa murmured. “We don’t travel much.”

  “But you’ve come all the way to Banff,” Judith pointed out. “That’s a fairly long trip.”

  “Necessity,” Ma said, speaking for the first time. “Codger rules.”

  Pa nodded once. “That’s my old man.” He looked at the young woman. “Where is the old coot, Martha Lou? He’s too feeble to wander off.”

  “Teddy and I put him in the tent,” she replied. “The bugs were eatin’ him alive.”

  “Dang. He’s all but dead anyway. Let me see to it.” Pa struggled a bit to get his long legs out from under the table. “Be back shortly. Oh!” Stretching a bit, he looked at Teddy. “You ever get them commodity reports?”

  “Not yet, Pa,” Teddy said. “The local newspaper don’t have ’em. My laptop’s batteries are down.”

  Pa nodded once. “Tell me when you have the dope. I gotta keep up with prices.”

  Renie was obviously growing restless. Or maybe she was tired of swatting mosquitoes. “Okay, Ma,” she addressed the clan matron, “let’s hear why you stay-at-homes made the trip to Banff.”

  Ma heaved a big sigh, making her big bosom bounce. “It’s Codger’s idea. Back in the fifties, he saw a Marilyn Monroe movie and that actor who always looked as if he was falling asleep. Richard or Ronald or—”

  “Robert Mitchum,” Renie said. “Was the movie River of No Return?”

  Ma’s gray eyes snapped. “That’s right! I forgot what it was called. Before my time. Anyways, Codger fell in love with Marilyn—and with the Bow River up here. He vowed that when he died, he wanted to be sent off down the Bow. We never could say no to Codger. So here we are. It looks like his time has finally come.” The last words sounded jarringly hopeful.

  Pa nodded solemnly. “Yep, Delia. I expect so.”

  Judith’s eyes darted to the so-called platform. Now that they were closer, she realized that the wheeled conveyance was an elegant piece of workmanship. “Is that a . . . bier?”

  Ma nodded. “We borrowed it from the Big Stove Funeral Home. But,” she went on with a frown, “it seems we won’t be able to return it unless Codger falls off and it washes up on the bank. Maybe we didn’t think that through.”

  Pa exited the tent. “Not yet,” Pa said, shaking his head. “It seems like the old coot has rallied a bit. I can tell he’s still breathing. Dang.”

  Teddy had sidled up next to Pa. “If nothing’s gonna happen for a while, why don’t Martha Lou and me head into town and rustle up some grub?”

  Pa shrugged. “Bring some back for the rest of us. We gotta keep watch. Oh—get your sis some of that foreign taffy or whatever she likes.” He craned his neck to look beyond his son. “Where is Ada? She didn’t wander off again, I hope. She might go into the river, not knowin’ it’s kinda deep.”

  “Here she comes,” Teddy said. “Ada’s keepin’ watch on Codger. Fond of him, in her way.”

  If Ma struck Judith as a butterball, Ada looked like a string bean. The younger woman was almost gaunt, with deep-set eyes and an expressionless face. “Hello, Ada,” Judith said, smiling.

  Ada walked by the picnic table without making eye contact and sat down in a flimsy striped canvas chair. Pa chuckled. “She don’t talk much. Shy, is our Ada.”

  “That’s okay,” Renie said. “I don’t talk much either when I’m with coz.”

  Judith resisted giving Renie a dirty look as she struggled a bit to get up from the picnic table. Sitting too long on a hard, wooden surface had caused a few twinges in her artificial hip. “We’ll be going, too. It’s after hours in New York City, but we should check in with our editor. Have a pleasant evening.”

  Renie was already ten yards ahead of Judith. Her farewell to the Stokes folks had been one slightly raised hand along with an expression that indicated she hoped she’d never see the Big Stove contingent again. Judith, however, was curious about the corn-raising family and reluctantly admitted to herself that Renie’s hope was probably in vain.

  Chapter 4

  “Why,” Renie asked in annoyance, “didn’t we make our husbands nap in the same room? We’ve only been gone for a little over half an hour, so how do we amuse ourselves?”

  Judith slowed her step as they reached the motel grounds. “I think I saw an arrow pointing to ‘Guest Bar.’ Let’s go through the main entrance and check it out.”

  They noticed the No Vacancy sign had been lit. “I hope those folks have reservations,” Judith said as they walked around a bronze Buick parked in the driveway.

  “Not your problem,” Renie pointed out, glancing at the front license plate. “They’re from Iowa. It’s a wonder these mountains don’t scare them away.”

  “Not everybody in Iowa is scared of mountains,” Judith said. “They obviously came here to see the real thing.”

  But judging from what they saw confronting Niall at the desk, the couple from Iowa was irate. “How the hell could you lose our reservations? My wife requested them two weeks ago. We already paid a deposit by traveler’s check. Look again. The last name is spelled O-D-E-L-L.”

  “Yes, sir,” Niall mumbled. “I’ll see if . . .”

  Mrs. Odell jabbed her elbow into Mr. Odell’s arm. “It’s not under our name,” she declared, with an annoyed glance at her husband. “The rest of my family is here in Banff, so I used my maiden name—Stokes. Adela Stokes. I assume my relatives have already checked in.”

  A relieved Niall looked up from his computer. “Yes, I’ve got it. Two rooms. The other Stokes party hasn’t arrived yet.”

  But the burly, balding man who was Adela’s husband wasn’t giving in easily. “The second room is for our twins. They’re eighteen and of legal age. The rest of the Stokes bunch are on their own.” He glanced at Adela. “Unless the reservation is under your cousin’s married name.”

  “That’s their problem, Norman,” his wife snapped. “I don’t care if they’re staying in a cave. They’re all idiots. Go tell Win and Winnie to grab their luggage and come inside.” With a flip of her blond pageboy, she turned back to Niall. “What’s the legal age for drinking in Alberta?”

  “Eighteen,” Niall replied.

  “Good.” Adela turned to her husband. “The kids can get tanked while you unpack for us. I need a nap.” She practically ripped the key cards out of the clerk’s hand and stomped off to the elevator. Norman shrugged and ambled out the door.

  Niall offered the cousins a feeble smile. “Kind of a . . . forceful lady, eh?”

  Judith smiled. “Not all Americans are like that.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Most of you Yanks are nice. Maybe their other relatives decided not to join them here. I’m not sure I’d want to spend my holiday with them.”

  “True,” Judith conceded, thinking that neither holiday nor vacation suited the Stokes folks’ reason for the visit. “Is the bar open?”

  It was. Judith and Renie went down the hall, where they found a cozy sitting room with an unlit stone fireplace, uninspired-looking but comfortable chairs, and a silver bell by a handprinted sign that said ring for service.

  Judith had barely withdrawn her hand when a pert young Asian girl came through what looked like a wall panel behind the mahogany bar. “Hello,” she said with a big smile. “I’m Jenny. What would you like?”

  “Scotch on the rocks, water back for me,” Judith said. “Naughton’s, the same way for my cousin.”

  Jenny smiled and nodded. “I hope you’re enjoying your visit,” she said, expertly pouring the drinks.

  “We only arrived about an hour ago,” Judith replied. “But we’ve been here once before, when we were much younger. It’s breathtaking country.”

  “Changed a bit since then, I’ll bet,” Jenny said, keeping eye contact with Judith. “It’s new to me. I
’m working here for the summer to pay for university, but my usual job is in the office. I’m majoring in business, so I help with the accounts.”

  “Where are you going to school?” Judith asked.

  “UBC.” Jenny handed Judith her drink. “That is, the University of British Columbia in Vancouver.”

  Judith nodded. “We live fairly close to the border. I’ve actually seen the campus on visits to Vancouver.”

  Jenny finished making the second drink, but looked a little uncertain about putting it down in front of Renie, who was staring straight ahead like a zombie. “Is it all right if . . . ?” She let the rest of the question hang in the air.

  “She’ll be fine,” Judith replied. “She rarely tries to drink out of her hands.”

  “Um . . . good. Yes. That’ll be eighteen dollars Canadian.”

  Judith grimaced. “We haven’t yet changed our money.”

  “Then it’s thirteen,” Jenny said. “Are you staying here? I’ll put it on your room tab.”

  Judith assured her that was fine, adding that they were staying in the Rose and the Yew Suites. Forcing another smile, Jenny thanked Judith and disappeared behind the panel.

  “Why,” Judith demanded, “do you look like a pickle? It drives me crazy when I’m talking to someone new.”

  Renie’s brown eyes snapped. “When we meet strangers you always take over. Yes, you’re more outgoing, you’re friendlier by nature, but sometimes I like to prove I can actually talk.”

  “Oh, coz!” Judith exclaimed in dismay. “I’m sorry. Really. I’m so used to chatting up B&B guests that I can’t help it.”

  Renie laughed. “You’ve always been like that. You’re social by nature and you love people. I’m used to it, but sometimes it still gets to me. Especially since our idiot husbands put us in the wrong lodgings.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to us cousins.”

  Judith smiled back. They’d just clinked glasses when a young man and a young woman entered the bar. While they didn’t actually look alike, Judith guessed they were the Odell twins. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have greeted them, but Renie’s reprimand had turned her mute.

  “How,” the young man asked, “do you get a drink around here?”

  “There’s a bell, idiot boy,” the young woman said. “Give it a shot.”

  “I’ll bet the beer’s in that fridge behind the bar, Winnie. Let’s check it out. There’s more alcohol in Canadian beer than we have in ours.”

  Winnie eyed the cousins with suspicion. “Maybe not.”

  “Hey, Win,” Renie said. “Go for it. You Iowans have lots of nerve.”

  The twins looked startled. “How do you know who we are?” Winnie asked. “Do you work here?”

  “Does it look like we’re working?” Renie nudged Judith. “Your turn. I proved I could talk. You can quiz them about the rest of the Stokes folks.”

  Win and Winnie exchanged confused looks. “Whoa,” Win said under his breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Judith put on her greet-the-guests smile. “My cousin and I met your relatives earlier. They’re staying in a big tent by the river not far from here.”

  “Why?” The word all but flew out of Winnie’s mouth. “I mean, that they were supposed to stay here at the motel.”

  “They seem to prefer camping out,” Judith said. She was tempted to mention the twins’ dying grandfather, but decided it was a bad idea. “There’s quite a group. Maybe they couldn’t get accommodations for everybody.”

  “That bunch is cheap,” Win stated. “I’ll bet they wouldn’t spend the money on a motel. Old Codger’s tight as the bark on a butternut hickory when it comes to spending money on what he’d call luxuries.”

  Winnie made a slashing gesture with her right hand. “Don’t bad-mouth Codger. He’s been okay with us.”

  “I guess,” Win said. “Oh well. Hey, let’s see if there’s beer in that fridge. We can leave a couple of bucks and take it outside.”

  The cousins had finished their drinks. “Good luck,” Judith said, moving to the door.

  Renie merely smiled and waved.

  The rest of the evening passed without a hitch. An excellent dinner at a Bavarian-style restaurant, a twilight stroll past intriguing shops, and the moon rising over the granite mountain peaks made the Flynns and the Joneses feel as if they were really getting away from it all.

  But they had no idea what they were getting into.

  Joe and Bill had signed on for a two-day fly-fishing adventure on the Bow. They both arose early Saturday morning to be picked up by their guide at eight o’clock. The first half of the day included tips from a local fly-fisherman they had read about before leaving on the trip. Snapper MacDougall was so named because of the graceful, accurate way he could cast his fly-fishing line. Joe and Bill were like little kids waiting to meet Santa Claus. Judith got up to see her husband off; Renie slept in.

  Judith had decided to wait for breakfast until her cousin woke up, but by ten o’clock her stomach was growling. She was about to go into the adjoining room when her cell rang. Figuring it was Renie, she asked what had finally awakened her.

  “The alarm, of course,” Arlene Rankers said in a testy voice. “I had to set it for five a.m. in order to make the guests’ breakfasts.”

  “I usually don’t get up until six,” Judith blurted—and immediately felt remorse. “I mean, you’ve taken over the B&B before, so you—”

  “Yes, yes,” Arlene interrupted. “But I’ve always had your cleaning woman to do all the housework. Honestly, I’ve never considered her flighty—stubborn, complaining, cranky, prone to hypochondria, filled with fundamentalist religious zeal, but not flighty.”

  “How so?” Judith inquired in a puzzled voice.

  “She eloped!” Arlene all but shouted. “Last night. She’s on her honeymoon. Can you imagine?”

  Judith was speechless. She gulped before responding. “No. No,” she repeated. “What is he? I mean, who is he?”

  “A man from her church,” Arlene replied, still sounding out of sorts. “I didn’t ask his name. It might be an alias. Besides, Phyliss was giggling so much that it was hard to understand her.”

  A giddy Phyliss was beyond Judith’s imagination. “I’m stunned. But you can’t do the housework. Really. Call one of the cleaning services. In fact, I have the name of the outfit that came in after one of the guests set the house on fire. I think it’s called Mighty Tidy and Sons.”

  “I’ll do that,” Arlene said, with a touch of relief. “I really hated to bother you, but—”

  “Never mind,” Judith broke in. “It’s not your fault. But it is unbelievable.”

  “Yes. I wonder what your mother will think.”

  Judith didn’t want to know.

  She’d just hung up when Renie appeared in the doorway of the adjoining room. “You woke me up,” she mumbled, her eyes not quite open. “Oh. You’re not being attacked. I’m going back to bed. Ni-ni.”

  “It’s after ten!” Judith shouted. “I want to eat breakfast. Don’t you?”

  “Well . . .” Renie’s eyes opened all the way. She blinked twice. “I thought we were on vacation.”

  “We are,” Judith said, trying not to grit her teeth. “You sleep in all the time when you’re at home.”

  Her cousin actually seemed to be considering the statement. “So I do. Okay, I’ll make an exception. I am kind of hungry.” She staggered back into the other room.

  They breakfasted in the same café where they’d had lunch the day before. Except that it was termed brunch on the menu after ten o’clock. Judith regaled her cousin with the tale of Phyliss’s elopement. Renie insisted she didn’t believe it.

  “It’d be more like Phyliss to join the circus,” she said. “She is kind of a freak. Besides, sometimes Arlene gets things mixed up.”

  Judith allowed that was true. But, she realized, there was no way to find out any details while they were in Banff. She was about to say as much when she saw the Odell fam
ily get out of a booth just after the cousins had filled their plates at the buffet.

  “Eat fast,” Judith urged Renie. “I’ll bet they’re going to meet up with the so-called Stokes folks. It could be interesting.”

  “Not to me.” Renie saw Judith’s disappointment and sighed. “Okay, why not? We haven’t got anything else on the schedule with our mates off and fishing. It’ll beat spending a lot of money on overpriced items we can’t afford. Except maybe sweaters. No woman can have too many sweaters.”

  The early cloud cover had lifted, showing off every cleft and crag in the majestic mountains above the town. The air was clear though tinged with the scent of vehicle exhaust and evergreen trees. The price of a tourist economy, Judith thought to herself. They didn’t encounter any mosquitoes until they got closer to the river.

  As they turned toward the Stokes family encampment, Renie asked why Judith wanted another encounter with a bunch of people who were waiting for someone to die.

  “Maybe that’s why,” Judith replied.

  “You are a ghoul,” Renie declared.

  “No, I’m not,” Judith retorted, pausing on the pathway. “I can’t help it if I have . . . accidental encounters with dead bodies. But this is the first time I’ve run into having the deceased’s demise announced in advance. Humor me.”

  “Your problem is that you love people, alive or dead. Years ago, someone told me that you’d never met a stranger. It’s true.” Renie’s smile was wry. “We’re both only children, but even as a kid, I liked my own company. You always preferred being with as many neighbor kids as you could round up. I wasn’t envious, but I admired you for it.”

  “Oh, coz,” Judith said, looking chagrined, “you were two years older and the one I looked up to. You know that I always—”

  Renie laughed. “Stop. The mosquitoes are gathering in force. Let’s call on your latest clutch of crazies.”

  Approaching the Stokes encampment, they noticed that most of the family, including the Odells, were gathered around the picnic table. “A family meeting?” Judith mused. “Do you suppose Codger has died?”