The surviving immediate members of the Stokes family were now seated around the picnic table in deep conversation. All four Odells, however, apparently had gone off to contact the RCMP.
“Let’s not bother them,” Judith said. “They need time to collect themselves.”
“Are you kidding?” Renie retorted. “They need time to collect their wits. They could be anywhere.”
“Adela and Norman seem smart,” Judith pointed out.
“That’s because they’re the Odells,” Renie shot back. “Adela escaped before she could become contaminated.”
“She probably went to college.” Judith thrummed her fingers against her cheek. “Where’s the weapon?”
Renie frowned. “You’re asking me? I didn’t do it.”
Judith checked her watch. “It’s after noon, but even you can’t be hungry after that big brunch.”
“You’re right. Give me another hour. What do you want to do in the meantime?”
Judith considered. “I really wouldn’t mind looking at sweaters. They always have nice ones in Canada. The good Scottish woolens and all that.”
Renie laughed. “Why not? It seems wrong not to buy a souvenir. A wearable one, at that. And we’ve got the car.”
Fearing that Arlene might have called with another crisis, Judith insisted on checking for messages at the motel desk. There weren’t any. Relieved, she joined Renie, who was already sitting in the rental’s passenger seat.
“You drive better than I do,” she said. “I never had to hold down two jobs to make ends meet. It’s a wonder you didn’t meet yourself coming and going between the library and bartending at Dan’s café.”
“You were lucky,” Judith murmured.
“I have a husband who worked for a living as a shrink,” Renie said. “If that’s luck, I’ll take it.”
Following the river, Judith kept her eyes on the road, but her mind went back almost forty years to when she and Joe had become engaged. She’d been so happy with her fun-loving policeman and his magic Irish green eyes. And then, after a rough night on the job, he’d stopped for a drink—or two or three or . . . Judith winced at the memory.
“What’s wrong?” Renie asked.
“I was time-traveling backward,” Judith replied, turning off from the river. “To the fateful night that Joe got drunk after dealing with a gruesome homicide case and ran into Herself at a bar by the downtown precinct. The next thing he knew, he was on a plane headed for Vegas.”
Renie nodded. “When Joe sobered up, he discovered he was married to Vivian instead of you.”
“And I was pregnant with Mike.” Judith’s smile was melancholy. “Dan didn’t mind. I guess he’d always had a thing for me. He played the gallant and asked me to marry him. So I did.”
“You always were too easygoing,” Renie said, but not without sympathy. “I was amazed that Joe stayed married to Vivian for so long. Wasn’t he Husband Number Four?”
“At least.” Judith slowed down. “Check that street sign. Does it say Lynx?”
“Links?” Renie frowned. “We already passed the golf course. Since when did you take up golf?”
“L-Y-N-X,” Judith spelled out, looking for a parking space. “Yes, I took the turn that Trixie told me about.”
“Trixie? Who’s she?”
“The girl who sometimes fills in when Niall is away. Very sweet.”
“Good for her,” Renie said vaguely. “Hey, why are we stopping here?” She paused. “The Mounties! This is the police station! I should’ve guessed.”
“I want to make sure the Odells reported what happened to Codger,” Judith said, easing into an open spot near the entrance. “I’m not certain I trust any of those people, including the ones with good grammar.”
“No argument here,” Renie said. “So why aren’t we getting out of the car?”
“Because the Buick with the Iowa plates is parked two cars back. It’s a good thing this rental has tinted windows, so the Odells can’t see us.”
“Oh, lordy!” Renie cried. “Now I feel like a spy in a bad B movie. Where’s my beat-up trench coat and slouch hat?”
Judith ignored the comment. Five minutes passed, but there was still no sign of the Odells. Renie was growing restless.
“Maybe they confessed,” she said hopefully.
“How would you like to explain the Stokeses’ plan for Codger’s send-off? It’d take some time. Although,” Judith went on more slowly, “they might leave out the zany part.”
“That’d spoil all the fun,” Renie asserted. “Not to mention the novelty. Even you haven’t come across a homicide like this one. It’s occurred to me that you’ve gotten a bit blasé the last two, three times you found a dead body.”
Judith glared at her. “That’s a terrible thing to say! I’m never blasé when some poor soul meets a violent end. You’re always telling me I’m too sympathetic, even too softhearted.”
Renie was unmoved. “You omitted my earlier remark—too easygoing.”
Judith opened her mouth to respond but saw the Odells come out of the police station with two uniformed officers. Adela, Norman, and the twins went to their Buick; the officers got into a cruiser.
“Do we follow them?” Renie asked.
“No. At least not yet. We know where they’re going. Let’s see if we can find a bakery,” Judith said as she pulled into traffic on Lynx Street. “We can get a little something there. Or are you starving?”
Renie thought about it. “Starving’s at least an hour away. Doughnuts will do.”
At the next corner, Judith spotted a bakery sign to her left. “Two bakeries. We’re in luck.”
“Wild Flour!” Renie exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat. “I like the name. Let’s go there.”
The cousins also liked the coffee and the ambience. Judith ate a brownie and Renie devoured a chocolate croissant, a cinnamon twist, and a sugar doughnut. Half an hour later, they were back in the car.
“This,” said Judith, pulling away from the curb, “is when I could hate you. I have to watch my weight while Little Pig gobbles up everything in sight and never gains an ounce.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” Renie replied wearily. “It’s metabolism. Some pigs got it, some would-be pigs don’t. Get over it.”
“I try to,” Judith said. “It’s still galling.”
“Then resume sleuthing. You’re very good at that.”
“I intend to. The police should have gone over the crime scene by now. But they probably haven’t taken the body away. I assume they’re questioning the suspects. I prefer not to get involved, but merely observe.”
“Oh, good grief!” Renie cried. “You are involved. Did you touch anything when you got a look at Codger’s body?”
“No. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“The family saw you go to the tent and Teddy went partway with you,” Renie reminded her.
Judith thought back to the scene. “True, but I’m not a suspect. Codger was already dead.”
“Okay,” Renie said. But she looked worried. That wasn’t like her usually blasé cousin.
It made Judith worry, too.
When they approached the campsite, the first thing they noticed was that the family members were behaving in an uncharacteristic manner. Unlike the relatively calm scene Judith and Renie had witnessed earlier, most of them seemed agitated or at least upset. Except Ada, of course. She simply sat and stared.
The taller, dark-haired RCMP officer was focused on Ma and Pa Stokes, while his red-haired, freckled companion seemed to be searching the ground.
“They’re looking for something,” Judith murmured. “More blood? Footprints?”
Renie shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just here to enable you.”
“Don’t say that,” Judith scolded. “You make me sound like a . . . ghoul.” She looked more closely at the scene in front of her. “Something’s missing. What is it?”
“Party hats?” Renie shot back.
“Get serious. Think what we saw the first time we came here.”
“There was a big—”
“Bier!” Judith cried—and quickly put her hand over her mouth. Fortunately, no one seemed to have heard her. “I wonder.”
“So do I,” Renie agreed. “Go get ’em, coz.”
They approached the picnic table. Judith addressed Pa Stokes. “Excuse me, but what’s going on? What are the police looking for?”
Pa shook his head and looked away. Ma glared at Adela, who was standing off to one side with Norman.
“Busybody,” Ma hissed. “She thinks she’s so smart just because she got a college degree. Adela never could keep her mouth shut. We told her to leave well enough alone, but oh no! She had to call in the police!”
Judith was taken aback. “I’m confused. Don’t you want to find out who stabbed Codger?”
Pa took a corncob pipe out of his shirt pocket. “Don’t matter. He was a goner anyhow. And now he’s . . . gone.”
“You mean . . . on the bier?”
Narrowing his eyes, Pa stared at Judith. “Not exactly. We ditched the bier. We heard them cops were getting curious-like. Now they’re asking a bunch of questions about things that are none of their beeswax.”
For once, Judith was at a loss for words. Renie, however, was looking impatient. “Come on, coz,” she said. “There’s nothing we can do here. Let’s go.”
“Fine,” Judith muttered.
They’d barely moved when the dark-haired Mountie called to them. “Pardon, ladies, but are you family members?”
“Are you kidding?” Renie retorted. “We don’t even belong to the same species.”
He nodded faintly. “I’m Sergeant Brewster, RCMP.” He gestured toward the younger red-haired Mountie, who was entering the big tent. “That’s Constable MacRae. If you’re not with this party, then I must ask you to leave. It’s a crime scene.”
“We’ve seen too much, if you ask me,” Renie blurted as she grabbed Judith’s arm. “We’re going now. Come on . . .”
Brewster interrupted. “If you’ve seen so much, ma’am, could you tell us where the alleged victim is? A Mrs. Odell reported a possible homicide, but we can’t find a body. If you know, please tell us.”
Judith and Renie both looked blank.