Suture Self : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

Randall kids, but they weren’t much help. He’d interviewed Somosa’s widow in the Dominican Republic

via long distance a couple of days ago, before Bob

Randall died. Addison said she wasn’t much help. Her

English is almost nonexistent and she seemed inclined

to blame her husband’s death on God’s will. Addison

doesn’t agree, and neither do I. It’d be more likely that

the teams in the rest of our division did Somosa in. But

that’s not realistic, either.”

“What about Tubby Turnbull?” Judith asked. “Did

Addison find him helpful?”

Renie gave Judith a sardonic look. “Has Tubby ever

been helpful to anyone? After hemming and hawing

and trying to figure out if he’d put his pants on backwards, Tubby insisted he couldn’t think of anyone connected to the team who’d want Joaquin out of the way.

He was popular with the other players, the press liked

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him, management considered him a huge part of the

franchise, and even his agent is a good guy—as sports

agents go. Anyway, the agent works out of New York.

He hasn’t been out this way since the end of last season.”

Judith gave a faint nod. “Nothing there, as far as we

can tell.” She pondered the matter of Joaquin Somosa

for a few moments. “The bear,” she said suddenly.

“What did he mean by saying ‘a bear’ and pointing to

the TV?”

Renie frowned at Judith. “I told you, he must have

been hallucinating. Why else would he keep saying ‘a

bear, a bear, a bear’?” Renie’s scowl faded as she

clapped her hand to her head. “A bear—in Spanish,

that would be aver, to see. Maybe he couldn’t see—the

TV or anything else. The drugs might have been taking

effect. Doesn’t Ecstasy blind you?”

“I’m not sure,” Judith said, “but it would fit. All I

really know is that it does terrible things, including

making you crazy. Joaquin must have ingested it just

before the repairman, Curly, got to his room. I wonder

who’d been there ahead of him?”

“We don’t know,” Renie responded with a helpless

look.

“That’s the trouble,” Judith said. “We weren’t

around when these other deaths occurred and it’s almost impossible to get any concrete information out of

the staff. I sure wish Maya was still here.” She sighed

and rearranged herself on the pillows. “What about

Joan Fremont? Did she and Addison sound like a

happy couple?”

“Yes,” Renie responded, delving into her goodies

stash and hauling out some cheese and crackers. “Want

some?”