“Why would anyone want to kill Trixie?” a flabbergasted Renie asked, collapsing on the Flynns’ bed. “Could she be more harmless?”
Judith also felt a little shaky. “The siren . . . I bet it was for her. The hospital is right by police headquarters.”
“Yes,” Renie said softly, leaning back against the pillows. “Poor Trixie. First she gets dumped, then somebody tries to kill her. She should’ve stayed wherever she came from.”
“I wonder where that was,” Judith murmured, after settling into one of the matching armchairs. “I don’t suppose they’d let us talk to her.”
Renie looked skeptical. “Tonight?”
Judith shook her head. “I doubt we’d be allowed to see her. I do wonder what the MO was.”
“You think someone tried to poison her? I mean,” Renie quickly went on, “before she collapsed.”
“Not likely.” Judith grimaced. “I’ve had enough experience with poisons to know they don’t usually produce hysteria. Do you remember when we were—”
She was interrupted by her cell’s ring. Luckily, it was in her purse next to the chair. Judith answered on the second ring.
“Is that you, Judith?” Arlene asked in an anxious voice.
“Yes,” Judith replied. “You sound upset. What’s wrong?”
“Well . . . it’s not exactly wrong,” Arlene said, “but it’s not quite right either. It’s your mother. I’m afraid . . .” She stopped; Carl’s voice could be heard in the background. “Yes, yes,” Arlene said, apparently to her husband. “But it’s too soon to call the police. And would you mind turning the channel to something I like, for a change? I’m sick of baseball. They stand around too much. If I wanted to watch statues, I’d go to a museum.” With an audible huff, she apparently remembered she was on the phone. “So sorry, Judith, but why must men watch so much baseball? The players do the same thing over and—”
“Arlene!” Judith exclaimed. “What about Mother?”
“Oh. Yes,” Arlene said. “Your mother and Aunt Deb went to have supper and play bridge at Sophie Savery’s condo on top of the hill. You know Sophie from church. She’s the one who sits in the back row and sometimes flosses her teeth. Except I think they’re dentures. Why can’t she just take them out and soak—”
“Arlene, please,” Judith begged, trying to keep calm while Renie rolled over on the bed and winced a lot. “Tell me about Mother.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” Arlene said reasonably. “Sophie picked your mother up at three thirty—she had your aunt Deb in the car—and told me she’d bring both of them home by eight or a little after. But now it’s after nine. I called Sophie and no one answers. You can see why I’m worried.”
By reflex, Judith glanced at her watch. It was after ten, Alberta being on Mountain Time. “Have you or Carl gone to Sophie’s condo to see if they’re still there?”
“No,” Arlene replied. “I don’t know which condo Sophie lives in. There are so many new ones around here and her phone’s unlisted. Your mother jotted down her number for me. I called Sophie, but she didn’t pick up.”
Renie apparently had figured out the gist of Arlene’s call and sat up. “Missing mothers?” she whispered.
Judith nodded and spoke into the phone. “Are you at the B&B or your house?”
“We’re home,” Arlene replied testily. “You know our routine. As soon as everyone has checked in and the social hour is under way, we come back over here. I made sure we were home by seven because my cousin Avery was calling from Winona, Minnesota. They’re on Central Time, so it was nine there and he goes to bed at ten. Avery has to get up early to feed his monkey.”
“Have you checked to make sure Mother hasn’t come home since you’ve been on the phone?”
“I looked from upstairs just before I called and there wasn’t a light on in the toolshed,” Arlene said. “It gets dark earlier here now, you know.”
“Yes, I do know,” Judith conceded. “We’ve only been gone for a few days.”
“It seems much longer.” Arlene sounded grim.
“Try calling Sophie again,” Judith urged. “She’s quite deaf, according to Mother. If she doesn’t answer, then—”
“Hold on,” Arlene said. “There’s someone at the front door. I hope whoever it is hasn’t brought us bad news.” She emphasized the last two words with what sounded like a touch of relish.
Judith figured that Arlene was in their living room, where she couldn’t see the front door. Exchanging curious looks with Renie, she shifted around in the chair. Her artificial hip was reminding her that it had been a long and arduous day. The next thing she heard from Arlene was her muffled voice, apparently talking to Carl.
“Well!” she finally exclaimed. “Guess who that was?”
Judith was in no mood to guess. “Who?”
“Your mother. She brought our mail. Charles misdelivered it again yesterday. Wasn’t that sweet of—”
Judith interrupted. “You mean Mother is safe?”
“Of course,” Arlene assured her. “She shouldn’t have bothered coming over here after dark, but she told Carl that she was watching one of her favorite TV shows and had to wait until it was over. That’s why there wasn’t a light on in the toolshed. You know she doesn’t like to waste electricity. Carl’s walking her back home.”
“Good,” Judith said in a tired voice. “I’ll hang up now. This call is costing you money.”
“No, it’s not,” Arlene declared cheerfully. “I make these calls on your business landline. You do have a business license, Judith. It’s here in the kitchen. Anyways, I knew you’d want to know that nothing bad happened to your mother. Night-night.” She rang off.
Renie shook her head. “Rankerized again.”
Judith nodded vaguely. “Arlene and Carl really are wonderful people. What would I do without them?”
“Good question.” Renie stared at Judith. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Trixie,” Renie said. “Something was bothering you before Arlene called. Surely you aren’t going to settle in for the night until you find out what happened to her.”
Judith didn’t respond right away. “You’re right.” She stood up. “Let’s go downstairs to see if Niall can talk to us.”
Renie reluctantly got up from the bed. “Can or will?” she asked, following her cousin to the door.
“He’d better,” Judith said.
They didn’t speak again until they were in the lobby. Niall was behind the desk, looking less than his usual composed self as he sorted through what looked like receipts. He gave a start when Judith called his name.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a tone that suggested most things in his world had gone awry.
Judith leaned against the desk. “Since we were with Trixie when she collapsed, we’re concerned about her. Were you serious when you said she’d been attacked?”
Niall shoved the receipts aside and moved closer to the reception desk. “That’s what I heard from the nurse who called to find out if Trixie had any family around here. As far as I know, she doesn’t. Poor kid.” He shook his head.
“Do you know why she became so distraught?”
Niall shook his head. “Not really. I was giving an older couple directions to the golf course. They were both quite deaf and I had to shout. The phone rang just as Trixie came up to the desk, so I told her to answer it. By the time I finished helping the oldsters, she’d hung up and was rushing off somewhere. That was the last I saw of her.”
“Did she seem upset?”
“Maybe. I guess.” Niall rubbed his jawline. “She’s kind of an emotional person, as you might’ve noticed.”
Judith nodded. “Have you checked her belongings? There might be some contact information in there. In fact, she didn’t have her purse with her when she collapsed. It’s probably in the room.”
“Right . . .” Niall paused. “But I can’t leave the desk until my shift is over. I’m stuck until I get off at midnight.”
“We could do it,” Judith volunteered. “If you trust us with the key, of course.”
Niall looked dubious. “I trust you, but I really shouldn’t. It might get me in trouble if Mr. Barnes found out.”
Judith was about to say they’d be very discreet, but Renie had put one elbow on the desk and her gaze was fixed on Niall. “Here’s how it comes down, you dear, conscientious, polite Canadian young man. You can stick to the rules, but even if you do, Mrs. Flynn will pick the lock and get inside that room. Trust me. By the way, she’s in tight with the Mounties.”
Niall gaped at Renie. “But . . . she’s not from around here. I don’t get it.”
“Call them,” Renie said, no longer leaning on the desk. “Ask for Inspector Colbert.”
Niall sighed. “Okay, let me get the key. It’s room . . .”
“Two-oh-nine,” Renie interrupted.
Niall blanched. “How do you know that?”
“Because,” Renie replied, “it’s the only mailbox—or whatever you call those things on the wall—that doesn’t have a guest name on it. I, too, can sleuth. Sort of.”
Niall handed over the key. “Down the hall on your left,” he murmured.
“Thanks,” Judith said with a smile. “We won’t take long.”
Niall didn’t respond.
Neither of the cousins spoke until they were inside the room and had turned on the lights. It was obvious that Trixie’s housekeeping talents were lacking not only when it came to the guests but also when it came to herself. Clothes, makeup, magazines, CDs, and even food remnants were scattered around the room. A stuffed tiger’s head peeked out from under a pillow on the unmade bed.
“Poor Trixie,” Judith said under her breath. “Do you see her purse?”
“No,” Renie replied. “I’ll check the bathroom.” A moment later, she reappeared with a hefty imitation leather shoulder bag. “If you’re expecting a scary message in lipstick on the mirror over the sink, forget it. That only happens in movies.” She handed the bag to Judith. “You do the honors. If this purse is as messed up as the room, I’m not touching anything in it. There might be snakes.”
Judith undid the flimsy clasp. “No snakes,” she said, looking inside, “but there may be an animal.”
Renie made a face. “What kind? Not my nemesis, the common gray squirrel, I hope.”
“No.” But Judith felt something very soft and faintly furry. “It’s a wig. Blond.” She held it up for Renie to see. “Rather a nice wig, actually. The curls look natural.”
“Trixie is a blonde,” Renie noted. “Not that shade or style, but still . . .”
“A disguise?” Judith suggested. “But why?”
“Don’t ask me. By the way, no sign of drugs in the bathroom, legal or otherwise.”
“Check the drawers in here while I go through her purse. I’ve got her wallet. More of a billfold, really. No pictures, just a few credit cards and her medical coverage information. Ah! Here’s her driver’s license.” Judith stared, then blinked. “It’s a Nebraska license. Trixie’s from Lincoln. This was issued two years ago. She’s twenty-two.”
“Their licenses look a lot like ours,” Renie noted. “I don’t have to be Hercule Poirot to think Trixie knew the Stokes folks before she came to Banff.”
“They may be why she came here,” Judith said before scrutinizing the rest of the contents of the wallet and purse. “Maybe she met them in Big Stove, Nebraska.”
“Possible,” Renie allowed as she opened and closed drawers. “Nothing of interest. In fact, nothing at all. I’ll check the closet.” She opened the sliding door to reveal a space only a third the size of the ones in each of the Flynn and Jones suites. “Not much. Jeans, tights, tops, cardigan sweater, and one white dress for, I presume, a hot date.”
Judith was still holding the purse. “Maybe we should take this to Trixie tonight. She may need her ID and her Blue Shield card. I assume she’ll be released tomorrow morning unless there’s something seriously wrong with her.”
“Other than being attacked?” Renie said with a droll expression. “You don’t really want to go to the hospital, do you? It’s after visiting hours.”
Judith’s face was bland. “We’ll drop the purse off at the hospital’s front desk.”
“We’d better drop off the room key with Niall on the way out.”
“You do that while I head for the car. I’ll pick you up out front,” Judith said. “Tell Niall you need to clear your head. I’d rather he didn’t know we left the premises.”
“You don’t trust him?” Renie asked in surprise.
Judith shrugged. “You know I never trust anybody.” She picked up her own purse and removed her wallet. “Put this in that satchel of yours. I’m leaving mine here.”
“Dare I ask why?”
“One purse is enough.”
Renie didn’t ask for an explanation. Sometimes it was better not to know when her cousin was on the trail of a killer.
The earlier evening traffic had dwindled to a few cars all bearing Alberta plates, a couple of delivery trucks, and a California minivan that had a lived-in look.
“Aging hippies,” Judith remarked. “I’ll bet they’ve got Janis Joplin on tape and a lot of weed in the compartments.”
“No doubt,” Renie agreed as they glimpsed the hospital just ahead. “There’s a parking place just twenty yards away.”
Three minutes later, they were in the hospital and approaching the front desk, where a gray-haired woman was doing a crossword puzzle. Her name tag identified her as Edith Smythe. She looked up with a bored expression. “Yes?”
Judith assumed her most confidential manner. “We were here earlier to see Medic Roberts about a patient who’d just been admitted—Trixie O’Hara. My cousin and I were with her when she collapsed. In the excitement, I ended up with her purse and she must have mine. Perhaps you have it here at your desk? My last name is Flynn.”
“No personal items of any kind have been found,” Edith replied. “You should contact our lost and found. They open at nine tomorrow.”
Judith assumed an air of distress. “Could we wait while you go get it from Medic Roberts’s office?”
“I’m afraid I can’t leave my position here,” Edith said stiffly. “If you give me your home address, we can post it to you.”
Judith grimaced. “We’re leaving on a six-week tour of Albania. The post office will be holding our mail.” She turned to Renie. “You remember what happened to Uncle Alfred’s ashes when the post office had to keep them while Aunt Opal was coming home from her safari.”
Renie looked appropriately horrified. “Oh yes! And her grandson Archie insisted he thought the silver case contained marijuana. That’s why poor Uncle Alfred was always referred to as Old Smoky from then on.”
Judith now wore a mournful expression. “I still can’t think of Uncle Alfred without getting upset.” She wobbled a bit against the desk. “I need to use the restroom. Is there one close by?”
Edith’s stone face seemed to twitch. Or maybe the wobble had caused Judith to wince. But the receptionist finally responded. “The washroom is around the corner and on your right.”
When they were out of sight, Renie laughed. “That was one of your more inventive lies. I loved it.”
“Thanks,” Judith responded. “I should’ve come up with better names than Alfred and Opal.”
“That’s okay, coz,” Renie assured her. “Edith wouldn’t have appreciated anything more exotic. But how do we get from the restrooms to the patient rooms? I don’t see a door or a stairway.”
“True. But I spy an intercom. You have a deeper voice than I do and you only spoke once at the desk. How about summoning Edith Smythe to the delivery area?”
Renie shook her head. “She won’t fall for that at this time of night.”
“Yes, she will. The woman’s an automaton. She’ll follow orders. Make it an emergency delivery.”
“Okay. I, too, can follow orders. I can move faster than you can, so start walking.” Renie picked up the intercom, waited for Judith to get to the end of the hall, then lowered her voice to a rasp and announced, “Edith Smythe, please collect an emergency item at the delivery entrance.”
Renie saw Edith suddenly appear and then disappear. Hurrying to meet Judith, she asked where the receptionist had gone. Judith said she’d taken an elevator going down.
“We’ll take an elevator going up,” Judith said. “The patient floors are on the second floor. I think Canadians refer to the first floor as the ground floor. Or is that the English way?”
Renie shrugged as the car’s doors opened immediately. The cousins kept quiet on the brief ride. Only after they exited did Renie ask how Judith was going to explain their presence.
“I may not have to,” she said in a low voice. “I can only see one nurse at a desk up ahead and she’s at her computer. The first two rooms are empty. With any luck, we may find Trixie before anybody finds us.”
The next two rooms were occupied by men; the third was vacant and an elderly woman was asleep in the fourth. But in the next room on the left, Judith recognized Trixie’s tousled blond hair. She was stirring restlessly under a gray hospital blanket.
“She’s still alive,” Renie whispered. “Count yourself lucky. Not all of your suspects over the years were.”
“I’m not sure Trixie’s a suspect,” Judith said under her breath as they tiptoed into the room. “Trixie?” she called softly. “Trixie?” she repeated a little louder when the young woman fretted at the blanket. “It’s me, Mrs. Flynn, with Mrs. Jones.”
Trixie gave a start and turned to look at her visitors. “Who?”
“Judith Flynn and Serena Jones from the motel,” she replied, keeping her voice down for fear of alerting the on-duty nurse. “I’ve brought your purse.”
“My . . . purse?” Trixie’s bleary eyes widened. “Oh!”
Judith set the purse down on the bed. “How do you feel?”
Trixie didn’t answer the question, but gingerly touched the purse as if to make sure it was real. “Thank you,” she said in a toneless voice.
“Have you seen a doctor?” Judith asked after moving a visitor chair next to the bed and sitting down.
“I think so. She told me her name, but I forget. Jane, maybe. She was really nice.” Trixie fumbled with the purse, but finally managed to open it and remove her wallet. “My money . . . I hope it’s still . . . yes!” With trembling fingers, she began to count the bills. Three of them fluttered to the floor, where Renie stooped to pick them up.
“Here,” she said, holding the bills so that Judith could see they were each a hundred dollars in U.S. currency.
Judith hid her surprise. “Do you know when you’ll be released?”
Trixie shook her head as she tossed the bills into her purse without so much as a glance. “They took some tests. Maybe they’ll tell me tomorrow. But it’s nice here. I don’t mind.”
“Do you have any family or friends in the area?” Judith asked.
“No.” Trixie frowned. “Well . . . maybe, in a way. But they’ve been sort of tied up since I got here. Except for . . .” She gritted her teeth. “Anyways, I thought I should get a job while I was waiting.”
Judith tried to think of a tactful way to ask why Trixie was carrying around so much cash. Renie, however, was more inclined to disdain tact in general. Unabashed, she spoke up. “How come you’ve got all those hundred-dollar bills? You could survive for quite a while in Banff without taking on a job.”
The blunt query didn’t seem to faze Trixie. “I didn’t have the money until after I got here.” She rubbed at her temples with agitated fingers. “I’m really tired. It’s late, isn’t it? I want to go to sleep. Thanks for bringing my purse. That was nice of you.” She dug deeper under the coverings and closed her eyes.
Renie started for the door, but Judith picked up the purse and put it into the nightstand’s drawer. Judging from Trixie’s deep breathing, she was already asleep. The cousins made their exit.
When they reached the foyer, Edith Smythe was back at her post. She frowned at them, but Judith wished her a polite good night on the way to the main entrance. The receptionist nodded faintly. Apparently, the intercom-summons ruse had worked.
There were still pedestrians on the sidewalk, so neither cousin spoke until they were in the SUV. “How,” Renie asked as she buckled up, “did Trixie get all that American cash after she got here?”
“From Americans,” Judith replied. “Somebody in the Stokes family paid her off.”
“The Odells?” Renie suggested. “They’re staying at the motel. But would they carry that much cash with them? She’s from Nebraska and they’re from Iowa. Adela and Norm are the type who use traveler’s checks or credit cards.”
“You’re right,” Judith agreed, braking at an arterial on Lynx Street. “Speaking of the Odells, I wonder if they got their car back.”
“I wonder if they got their kids back,” Renie said in an unusually worried tone. “They may be old enough to drink in Canada, but Win and Winnie are still kids. I remember what our three were like back then and still shudder at some of the dumb stunts they pulled.”
Judith smiled wryly. “Yes. After Dan died, I had my own problems raising Mike alone, especially in his teens. By the time Joe and I finally got back together, Mike was virtually a grown-up.”
“You did fine,” Renie said, seeing the motel sign up ahead. “Are they still planning to come from Maine after the tourist season is over?”
“We hope so.” Judith slowed to turn off the street and pull around into the parking lot out back. “He and the family like Maine. Quoddy Head State Park reminds them of home. No real mountains, of course, but . . .” She stopped. “There’s the Odells’ car. They must’ve abandoned the rest of Adela’s family.”
“Good thinking,” Renie asserted. “I wonder why they came in the first place. Could Adela be more different from the rest of them?”
Judith had pulled into the only parking space left, some four vehicles down from the Odell sedan. She didn’t speak again until they were out of the SUV. “Adela’s been away from the farm for over half her life. She went to college and married a man who doesn’t strike me as a farmer. In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say Norman is a salesman. The Buick is fairly new. Maybe he sells cars.”
Renie laughed. “You do read people. What’s Adela’s job?”
Judith used her key to open the motel door. “She manages the car company. I think she’d like to manage her weird relatives, but that’s a lost cause.”
To the cousins’ mild surprise, Adela and Norman were about to enter the elevator that was opening its doors. “You’re out late, too,” Judith said with a friendly smile as they got in with the Odells.
“Yes,” Adela replied in a weary voice. “We finally heard from our twins. At least we know they’re safe.”
“Damned fools,” Norman muttered. “They should never have taken off in that car. Couldn’t they see the tank was almost empty? We’d only driven it once since we got here and I wasn’t going to get gouged for the Canadian imperial gallon price until we were ready to head back home and could fill up on the other side of the border.”
The elevator had stopped and the foursome got out. But Judith had an obvious question for the Odells. “Where were Win and Winnie going?”
Adela threw back her head. “Home!” she cried.
Norman put a hand on his wife’s arm. “Hey, Del, don’t wake up the paying customers. It’s almost midnight.”
Adela leaned against him. “Sorry. I’m just so upset. I need a drink.” She made an effort to compose herself and looked at the cousins. “Do you want to join us? You look like you’ve put in a long day, too. We’ve got a jug of Canadian Club in the room.”
Judith hesitated, but Renie spoke up. “Why not? We haven’t anything better to do since we got dumped by the two frat boys we picked up earlier.”
“Coz!” Judith shrieked, then lowered her voice. “She’s kidding. Really.”
“Darn,” Adela said. “I was hoping it was true so you could dish the dirt. It might’ve taken my mind off of all the negative stuff we’ve put up with since we got here. Come on, let’s hit the sauce.”
The Odells’ suite was two doors down from the Flynn and Jones accommodations. Unlike the cousins’ suites, it didn’t have that lived-in look. Maybe, Judith thought, it was because the couple had been forced to spend so much time with their Stokes relations.
“Sit wherever,” Adela said with a vague gesture. “Tell Norm what to do with the CC.”
Judith and Renie both asked for an inch over ice. With regret, Norman informed them there was no ice. The cousins graciously settled for tap water.
Adela looked at her husband as if waiting for a cue. He shrugged and took a sip from his glass. “I guess,” she said, “that’s my signal to unload. Oh, we’ve kept in touch by letters and even some phone calls, at least with my brother, Corny, and his wife, Delia. They have a computer, but only use it for business despite my pleas to send me e-mails. I’m afraid they’re a bit rigid about not using high tech on a personal level.” She paused to gulp down some of her drink.
Norman snorted. “They sure as hell take advantage of every high-tech method when it comes to raising their damned corn. These days they don’t even need hired hands. No wonder they’re rolling in money.”
“They rarely spend it,” Adela put in. “Except for Codger being generous with our kids, Norm and I never got a dime out of him. I paid my own way through the University of Iowa by working in the school’s cafeteria.”
Feeling tired after the long day, Judith was nursing her drink. “Did you two meet on campus?”
Norm shook his head. “I went to Drake. We met on a blind date my brother arranged. He was going with Del’s roommate. We got married a couple of years after we both graduated.”
Judith nodded. “Very smart to get your education first.” Wanting to move the conversation back to the twins before falling asleep, she asked if Win and Winnie were enrolled in college.
Norm shook his head. “They both have a yen to join the Peace Corps. Neither of those kids has a clue about a career. They want to see the world.”
Adela bridled. “They’re seeing it now in Idaho. They hitchhiked to Bonners Ferry. It’s a wonder some nut didn’t kill them.”
Renie finally spoke up. “Are they coming back here?”
“No,” Adela said sharply. “We sent them enough money to go home by bus. We told them they could figure it out for themselves since they pulled such a dumb stunt. And,” she added in a calmer voice, “they will. They may be foolish, but they’re not stupid.”
“Why,” Judith asked, trying to rally, “did they leave in the first place?”
Adela sighed. “They were creeped out by the whole thing with Codger and that damned bier stunt. He’d been so generous with them that they thought it was gruesome to put him on that bier and send him off . . .” She stopped, drained her glass, and burst into tears.
Norman got up from his chair and put his arm around his wife. “We tried not to let the twins know the poor old guy had been stabbed,” he said, “but somebody let the cat out of the bag. That sent Win and Winnie over the edge. Frankly, they were terrified.”
Judith asked the obvious question. “Who told them?”
Norman bit his lip before speaking. “Ada.”
“Ada?” Judith was shocked. “But she never speaks.”
Adela was wiping her eyes. “I know. But I wish she hadn’t.”
Judith wondered not about how the young woman had come to speak but why. And yet Adela didn’t seem to be wondering about any of the Stokes family’s strange behavior. Ada hadn’t used words. Or maybe that was because Adela’s clan wasn’t strange to her. After over forty years, the Stokes Mantra might seem normal. Judith could understand that, but it still struck her as very strange indeed.