Suture Self : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

don’t you see. But it’s all very upsetting for those who

work here, and it should not be so. It’s all transitory,

isn’t it?”

As if to prove his point, Father McConnaught shuffled off into the hall.

“Goodness,” Judith said. “That sounds bad. If the

old guy knows what he’s talking about.”

“I think he does,” Renie said slowly. “Most of the

time. Restoration Heartware, remember?”

“A takeover?” Judith sighed. “That’s really a shame.

For all of Father’s spiritual advice—not that he’s

wrong—it’s still hard for the people involved. Even a

stuffed shirt like Jan Van Boeck. I wonder if he’s going

to be okay?”

The question was answered in a surprising way. Five

minutes later, Blanche Van Boeck stormed into the

cousins’ room. “You!” she shouted, pointing at Renie.

“You almost killed my husband!”

“Oh, boy,” Renie muttered. “Almost? As in, he’s not

really dead?”

Blanche, who was swathed in fox and wearing a silver turban, advanced on Renie. “Listen, you little pest,

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Mary Daheim

I can have you thrown out of this hospital, right into a

snowbank. What do you think of that?”

“I think you wouldn’t dare,” Renie shot back, looking pugnacious. “There’s a reporter in the next room

who’d plaster that all over page one of the next edition.”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Blanche shouted, waving a kidglove-encased fist. “He’s incommunicado.”

“What do you mean?” Renie demanded. “I saw him

on the phone this morning.”

A nasty smile played at Blanche’s crimson lips. “He

was trying to talk on the phone,” she said, “but his

line’s been shut off. Do you think we’d allow a viper in

our midst?”

“I thought Mr. Kirby was a patient,” Judith remarked

in an unassuming voice.

Standing next to Renie’s bed, Blanche ignored Judith.

“I should sue you for almost killing my husband. He’s

not out of the woods yet.”

“The woods?” Renie was round-eyed. “Is that where

they take patients around here? No wonder so many of

them croak.”

Trying to signal Renie to keep her mouth shut, Judith was fighting a losing battle. Blanche’s large form

and even larger fur coat blocked Renie’s view of her

cousin.

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Blanche

warned, her arm pumping up and down. “I’m personally seeing to it that you’re discharged as soon as possible. Then expect to hear from my attorneys.” She

turned on her high-heeled boots and started to leave the

room.

“Wait,” Judith said plaintively. “Please.”