Just before ten thirty, Renie kept her word about making an early night of it and went into the Joneses’ suite. Judith remained in the armchair, deep in thought. It was eleven thirty in Beatrice, Nebraska. Aunt Ellen never went to bed until after midnight. In fact, Judith wasn’t sure if her aunt ever slept. Reaching for her cell, she tapped in the number.
To her surprise, a sleepy-sounding Uncle Win answered. “Judith?” he said in his Midwestern voice that was a cross between a twang and a drawl.
“Yes,” she answered. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” he replied—and yawned. “Thinking about heading for bed, though.”
“Is Aunt Ellen busy?”
“Kind of.” He paused. There was never a way to hurry Uncle Win. “She’s hanging from the ceiling.”
“What?”
“Wallpaper,” Win said. “She’s redoing the hallway. Should I get her down?”
“I hate to bother her,” Judith began, but heard Aunt Ellen shout to her husband.
“Hang on,” Win said, though Judith didn’t know if he meant her or Aunt Ellen. A sort of scrambling noise occurred at the other end of the line.
“Judith?” Aunt Ellen didn’t wait for a response. “Have you ever tried to align red, white, charcoal, and black stripes in your wallpaper?”
“Uh . . . no, I’ve never put up wallpaper. Renie has, but I don’t recall her ever using a pattern with stripes. Wouldn’t a floral be easier to work with?”
“The Nebraska football team doesn’t wear floral uniforms,” Aunt Ellen declared a bit testily. “What were you thinking?”
“Oh. Of course.” Judith vaguely recalled an area in their hallway with a glut of Cornhusker memorabilia. “I didn’t realize the team had more than two colors.”
“They don’t,” Aunt Ellen replied. “But their fan gear goes beyond red and white. Why are you calling so late? Have you and Renie run out of money?”
“No, I have a question. Do you actually know anyone who lives in Big Stove?”
Aunt Ellen didn’t answer right away. No doubt she was considering her vast network of contacts around the state. “I really don’t,” she finally admitted with a touch of embarrassment. “But Sue Boo might. She and the town’s mayor may’ve met at a conference or some such event. I’ll call her in the morning. It won’t be early, though. She sleeps in until almost six.”
“Okay,” Judith said. “I’ll wait to hear from you. Remember, we’re an hour behind you here. Thanks.”
“No problem. Back to work.” Aunt Ellen disconnected.
Judith remained sitting in the armchair, worrying about Trixie being left alone all night. What if she woke up and was frightened? She knew where to find the cousins. Or she could call on the house phone. Judith was still silently fussing when Renie entered the suite.
“My neighbors on the other side are partying,” she announced. “I called Layak to complain, but he didn’t pick up. Those loudmouthed sots may keep on with the loud music and the drunken yelling for hours, so I’m bunking in here with you.”
“That’s fine. But don’t talk in your sleep.”
“I’ll try not to, but you’re the one who makes weird noises,” Renie murmured, sitting down on the bed. “Now unload about Aunt Ellen.”
Judith related her phone call.
Renie laughed. “If anybody knows someone in a tiny Nebraska town, it’d be our aunt. Why doesn’t she run for governor?”
“She doesn’t have time,” Judith said. “Besides, I think her pal Sue Boo has a lock on public office in Beatrice and maybe the rest of the state.”
“Right. Aunt Ellen prefers working behind the scenes.”
“Then I suggest we go to sleep. Knowing our aunt, she may call before the sun comes up.” Judith put her words into action by crawling under the covers. Renie followed suit.
The prediction proved all too true. The phone rang just before seven. A groggy Judith fumbled for the cell while Renie let out a couple of choice obscenities, burrowed down, and pulled the blanket over her head.
“I hope I’m not interrupting your breakfast,” Aunt Ellen began. “I assume you’re eating in your room.”
“They don’t have room service here,” Judith replied, still not quite alert.
“You don’t bring breakfast with you?” Aunt Ellen sounded aghast. “We always did when we drove out to see you and the rest of the family. The trip took us just two and a half days. We only stopped to sleep because we brought all our meals with us.”
“Yes, now it’s come back to me,” Judith admitted. “You made very good time.”
“I also made sandwiches that would keep a couple of days,” Aunt Ellen retorted. “We ate them for every meal.”
Judith marveled that the sandwiches hadn’t spoiled along the way. Her aunt and uncle had been too cheap to get AC in their car. “What did Boo have to tell you about a Big Stove contact?”
“She knows someone there—the postmaster. Unfortunately, he works for the government and won’t be in until nine our time.” She paused briefly while Judith heard a rustling noise. “His name is Reginald—Reggie—Upton. The number is . . .”
“Wait!” Judith broke in. “I have to grab a pen.” Luckily, the motel provided a pen and tablet on the nightstand. “Go ahead.”
Ellen rattled off the number. “Are you sure you took that down right?”
Judith repeated the number. Her aunt approved. “You were always better than Renie with numbers, Judith. I’m afraid my goddaughter is a math disaster. Where is she?”
Judith winced. “Still asleep.”
“Is she sick?”
“No, she’s fine,” Judith said. “It’s an hour earlier here.”
“That still means it’s time to be up and doing,” Aunt Ellen asserted. “She’s wasting the best part of—oh, I have to go. Uncle Win needs me to help pick the paint color to go with the new wallpaper. Do take care.” She hung up.
Judith stared at the clock. It was 7:09. Renie was obviously sound asleep. But rousing Renie might lead to the next homicide. Instead, Judith would leave a note telling her cousin to call when she was ready for breakfast.
By seven thirty, she was out the door, down the elevator, and heading for the Stokes encampment. For all Judith knew, the family might have taken off. She’d noted that the Odells’ Buick was still parked behind the motel. Maybe they planned on leaving later on.
Judith hadn’t gotten beyond the motel parking lot when she heard a soft voice call out: “Mrs. . . . ? Mrs. . . . ?”
Turning around, she saw that the Buick’s left rear door was open. “Yes?” she said, moving warily toward the unseen speaker.
“Help me,” the voice urged.
Still cautious, Judith approached the car. “Who are you?” she asked, stopping by the left rear fender.
“Ada, Ada Stokes. Help, please?”
“Of course!” Judith looked inside the car where Ada was lying on the backseat. Except for her rumpled slacks and uncombed hair, the young woman appeared unharmed. “Are you sick?”
“No. Just hungry,” Ada replied as Judith helped her sit up. “Doesn’t this car belong to Dela and Norm Odell?”
“Yes, it does,” Judith replied. “Do you want to see them?”
“Honestly, this backseat isn’t very comfortable when it comes to sleeping,” Ada said, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, but I couldn’t remember your name.”
Judith was momentarily speechless. “Judith Flynn. You’re not . . . I mean . . .”
Ada laughed, though without mirth. “My crazy relatives love playing games. I’ve gone along with some of them, including pretending to be a Gypsy foundling and another as Hugh Hefner’s illegitimate daughter. But this last one was demeaning. I’m a University of Minnesota grad and a CPA, for God’s sake. Who do you think keeps the books and the rest of the family’s finances in order?”
Feeling vaguely mesmerized by the revelations, Judith stared at Ada as she got out of the car. Without the slack-jawed, vacant expression, she was quite a good-looking young woman, if on the thin side. The deep-set eyes now showed some spark. Or maybe it was spunk. “Do the Odells realize you’re . . . normal?”
Ada brushed herself off. “No. That’s how I ended up nodding off in their car. I came over here while everybody else in the family was asleep. Then I figured maybe Dela and Norm were, too. But they were talking about going home today and I wanted them to know I’m normal. I probably should’ve contacted them years ago, but I never got around to it.” She shrugged and shook her head. “Dela hadn’t seen me since I was about five or six. I was really shy back then and didn’t talk much to grown-ups.”
Judith nodded. “I see. But Adela kept in touch with the family. Didn’t she realize you were okay?”
“I doubt it,” Ada replied. “When Dela called—which wasn’t often—Ma or Pa always talked about the farm. I swear that all they know is corn. Dela wrote letters, too, but I can’t imagine Ma would respond with anything except about the farm and Pa’s arthritis and her bunions.”
“But you still live at home?”
“No. I live and work in North Platte,” Ada replied. “It’s about thirty miles from Big Stove. Of course, I respect family ties and all that, but I need my own space.” She paused, her gaze looking off in the direction of the Stokes encampment. “I wonder if the gang’s still there.”
“I was going to check that out,” Judith replied. “Do you want to join me?”
“No thanks,” Ada said. “I want to eat breakfast. I’ll walk to town and forage.”
“I could drive you,” Judith volunteered.
Ada smiled. “That’s kind of you, but I’ll walk. I’ve missed my morning workouts at the gym during this zany trip. I’ve vowed not to turn into a lump like my mother. l still don’t know why I agreed to go along, but . . . well, they are family.”
Judith nodded. “Yes, kinship’s important. My cousin and I are both only children, but we grew up together, so we’re more like sisters. I admire you for your fitness regime. That’s smart. I’ve struggled with weight all my life.”
“You’re tall,” Ada said. “Which is good. I’m only average and that makes a difference. Thanks for the wake-up call. If you see the Odells, tell them I’d like to talk to them before they leave, okay? I want them to know that I’m fine. They’ve got two teenagers and someday they’ll probably get married. Genes are important.”
“Of course.” Judith paused. “I am so sorry about your grandfather’s passing. I gather he was a very special person.”
Ada’s expression changed, but she quickly recovered. “That’s very kind of you. Thanks so much. Enjoy the rest of your vacation.” She turned around and jogged away toward the town’s center.
Judith watched the young woman disappear around a corner. She liked Ada, especially the intelligent, candid version. But, as Bill Jones was wont to say, “Something’s off.”
She was still brooding when Renie stumbled out into the parking area. “Are you insane?” she yelled. “I thought you’d been kidnapped!”
“Pipe down,” Judith said. “You’ll wake up everybody.”
“Good. You woke me up. I heard you close the door. What’s going on?”
Judith explained about finding Ada in the Odells’ car—and the discovery that the young woman had apparently been forced to perpetrate a hoax. “But that’s not the strangest part,” she added. “Her reaction to Codger’s death was odd.”
“How?” Renie asked. “Did she applaud?”
“No.” Judith again considered Ada’s manner. “The best word I can come up with is ‘indifferent.’ By the way, your T-shirt’s on backward.”
“The UW’s Husky mascot wants to see where he’s been, not where he’s going.”
“No wonder they went two and nine last season,” Judith muttered. “I assume you want to eat breakfast.”
“That or one of your arms,” Renie said. “Let’s go.”
“Fine,” Judith agreed. “I was going to see if the Stokeses are still here, since Ada didn’t say otherwise.”
On the way into town, Judith thought they might spot Ada, but there was no sign of her on the streets or at a restaurant called Tooloulou’s, where they found a parking place by the entrance on Caribou Street. They also found a lineup of other hungry people.
The wait wasn’t long, however, but Renie was still grumbling after they were seated. “Some of these people don’t look like tourists. Why don’t the locals eat at home?”
“You and Bill eat breakfast out sometimes,” Judith reminded her cousin.
Renie merely sniffed. “We rarely have to wait.”
“But you get to have breakfast out,” Judith said. “Owning a B&B means Joe and I can’t do that.”
“Stop trying to make me feel guilty,” Renie said, gazing beyond her cousin. “Here comes Mr. Barnes with, I assume, Mrs. Barnes. It looks like they’ve already eaten. I’ll hide behind the menu.”
The couple passed by without so much as a glance. “You can come out now,” Judith said. “They’re gone.”
Renie put down the menu just as a server appeared. She ordered apple cinnamon French toast with ham and an egg over easy. Judith decided to have the same.
The server had just gone off when Judith’s cell rang. She heard her mother’s gravelly voice at the other end.
“Why aren’t you here yet?” the old lady demanded.
“We aren’t due home for at least a couple of days,” Judith replied after mouthing the word “Mother” to Renie. “Didn’t Arlene tell you the husbands decided to extend their fishing expedition?”
“Those lunkheads did that?” Gertrude sounded aghast. “How can they make any decisions? They don’t have a brain between them.”
“Are you sure Arlene or Carl didn’t let you know?”
“Oh, you know Arlene,” her mother said in what passed for an affectionate tone—at least for Gertrude. “She gets so caught up in how hard she’s working while you’re off gallivanting that things slip her mind.”
It crossed Judith’s mind that Arlene didn’t have to work any harder at the B&B than she herself did. But the thought was best left unsaid. “We’ll be home before the weekend,” she promised.
“I should live so long,” her mother grumbled. “You forget how old I—oh, here comes Carl with some cinnamon rolls Arlene made. That woman likes to bake, unlike some people I know.” Gertrude hung up.
Renie was looking sympathetic. “I’d better check in with my mother later today. She’s probably fussing her head off.”
“Aunt Deb does that when you’re at home,” Judith reminded her.
“Too true.” Renie paused as their orders arrived. “Mmm. Whipped cream on top of the French toast. Brilliant.”
Judith was about to take her first taste when her cell rang again. “What now? If Mother’s on another rant . . . Hello?”
“Hey, Jude-Girl,” Joe Flynn’s mellow voice said into her ear, “is my favorite wife already up and doing?”
“Renie and I are having breakfast,” Judith replied, sensing her husband was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear. “What’s up?”
“Guess I’d better make this quick since you’re eating. Our guide, Snapper, insists we have to see the Athabasca Glacier in Jasper National Park. We’ll do that tonight, but we won’t leave here until the morning. Don’t worry, we’ll still get home in plenty of time. Everything okay with you?”
“I’m not sure we can keep our motel room another night,” Judith said. “Besides, I’ve already imposed on the Rankerses for longer than they expected to run the B&B.”
Joe seemed to force a chuckle. “They love it. You know how Arlene revels in meeting new people so she can hear all their dirty little secrets.”
“That’s not fair to her,” Judith asserted. “She likes people, she enjoys learning about them, she—”
“Come on,” Joe interrupted, no longer mellow. “Arlene loves to dig the dirt. All of you women do. Or are you and Renie tired of shopping and eating in nice restaurants and relaxing by the pool?”
“Apparently you didn’t notice there is no pool at the motel,” Judith retorted. “We only went shopping once. And even decent restaurant food gets to be a drag—not to mention an expense.”
“Are you running low on cash?” Joe asked, almost sounding as if he cared.
“Not quite, but I will be. The extra motel expense isn’t cheap. If, in fact, we can’t keep our suite another night at the Banff Springs Motel, Renie and I won’t like sleeping in the SUV.”
Joe laughed. “Dubious. Renie would evict starving orphans to sleep in a comfortable bed. You’ll be fine. Unless,” he added, lowering his voice to the mellow tone Judith always found hard to resist, “you miss me that much.”
Judith sighed. “Of course I miss you. It’s just that it’s inconvenient, not only for Renie and me, but for Arlene and Carl to change their own routine and . . .”
“Hey, got to run,” Joe broke in again. “Bill says Snapper’s ready to roll. We can’t keep our guide waiting. He’s the punctual type. Love you.” He disconnected.
Renie looked up from her half-devoured French toast. “They’re still fishing, I gather.”
Judith nodded. “And seeing the Athabasca Glacier.”
“We saw it once,” Renie said. “It’s receding, you know.”
“Not fast enough,” Judith retorted. “Maybe Joe empathizes since his hairline is doing the same thing.”
Renie laughed. “So’s Bill’s. I’ll bet you’re glad we aren’t leaving so soon. I’ve never yet seen you walk away from an unsolved mystery.”
Judith grimaced. “I admit it’d bother me. I’m going to call the Big Stove postmaster at nine our time.”
“What about Doris?” Renie asked. “Maybe she’s recovered enough to talk on the phone.”
“That’s possible. I think I will call her. But before we do anything else, I want to check on Trixie. Do you know who’s working the desk this morning?”
“Niall’s back. He was on the phone when I peeked into the front office.”
Judith gave a nod. “I’m beginning to feel as if I live here.”
Renie took her last bite of French toast. “Don’t tell anybody. Canada has a very low homicide rate. You might hex the whole country.”
“Not funny,” Judith retorted, placing her napkin on the table.
“I wasn’t trying for humor,” Renie said solemnly.
Judith didn’t respond. There were times like this one when she felt as if Renie could be right when she called her cousin a magnet for murder.