Suture Self : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

“During the day?” Renie was aghast. “There’s nothing on except the Weather Channel.”

52

Mary Daheim

“There’s CNN,” Judith said meekly.

“That’s just news, and it won’t be good,” Renie asserted. “I’d rather read. Maybe if I started this book

from the end and read it backwards, it’d be more interesting.”

“I brought a deck of cards,” Judith said, brightening.

“If you could sit by my bed, we could play cribbage.”

“I haven’t played cribbage in years,” Renie said. “I

don’t know how anymore.”

“I could teach you,” Judith said. “I play with Mother

all the time. She usually beats me.”

Raised voices and a sudden scurrying in the hallway

diverted the cousins’ attention.

“What’s that?” Renie asked, sitting up in bed.

Judith leaned forward as far as she could, which was

only a few inches. “I can’t tell. A couple of people—I

think Nurse Appleby was one of them—just ran by.”

“Code blue!” someone shouted.

“What was that?” Renie asked, clumsily getting out

of bed and trailing her IV stand behind her.

“It sounded like ‘code blue.’ I don’t think that’s a

positive phrase in a hospital.”

Renie padded across the floor in her baggy hospital

gown and brown-treaded bed socks. “I thought they

said ‘cordon bleu.’ I thought it sounded like something

good.”

“I think maybe it means . . . dead,” Judith said, gulping.

“Oh.” Renie sounded dismayed, but kept moving

until she was in the doorway. After a few seconds, she

turned back to Judith. “Whatever it is seems to be happening in Bob Randall’s room next door.”

“No!” Judith’s hands flew to her cheeks. “It can’t

be! Maybe I’m wrong about what the code means.”

SUTURE SELF

53

A large bald-headed man in a white coat came striding down the hall. He saw Renie halfway out of the

door and barked at her to get back. Startled, she took a

single step but remained on watch.

“Dr. Van Boeck,” Renie said over her shoulder to Judith. “I heard somebody say his name.”

“Who else do you see?” Judith asked, wishing she

could join Renie at the door. But just thinking about it

made her feel vaguely light-headed.

“I see the patient from across the hall looking at

me,” Renie said. “He’s a man.” She waved. “Hi, I’m

Serena Jones.”

“Hello,” Judith heard the man reply in a chipper

voice. “I’m Mumford Needles. Call me Mr. Mummy.

Everybody else does.”

“Sure, Mr. Mummy,” Renie said. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Mummy said. “I don’t think it’s