chin before responding. “Why not? Maybe losing the
truffles isn’t our biggest problem.”
Nobody spoke, but there was much shifting of
stances and staring at the floor.
Finally, Winifred turned to Judith. “Very well. Let’s
have a word with your private detective husband.”
Judith tried not to grimace. Joe would not take well
to supporting his wife in one of her bold-faced lies.
“I’ll get him,” she said in a weak voice.
52
Mary Daheim
She went back through the dining room and into the
kitchen. As she opened her mouth to explain the situation to Joe, Renie dropped the phone, let out a highpitched shriek, crawled under the kitchen sink, and
slammed the cupboard door behind her.
FOUR
“RENIE!” JUDITH CRIED, pulling on the handle of the
door beneath the sink. “Come out right now!”
“What the hell is she doing?” Joe demanded.
“She’s in shock,” Judith replied as the door—or
Renie—resisted her tugs. “I’ve seen her do this before. Once, when she found out she was pregnant
the third time, and again when she got the kids’ orthodontist bill.”
Joe bent down to pick up the receiver, but heard
only the dial tone. “So what is it?” he asked with a
worried expression. “Has something happened to
Bill?”
Placing the receiver on the counter, he nudged
Judith aside and gave the cupboard door a mighty
yank. Renie was folded up inside, pale of face, with
her chestnut curls in disarray, her mouth agape, and
her eyes almost crossed.
“Coz!” Judith urged, hampered by the hip replacement in her effort to kneel down. “What’s
wrong? Is it Bill?” Maybe he had another pumpkin
stuck on his head, Judith thought wildly. Maybe he
was suffocating. Maybe he had suffocated. Maybe
Bill was dead.
54
Mary Daheim
But Renie shook her head. “No,” she finally
croaked, struggling to crawl out of the small, cramped
space. “Where’s my drink?”
“You dropped it in the sink,” Joe replied, giving
Renie a hand. “The glass isn’t broken. I’ll make you
another.”
“Make it strong,” Renie said, then got to her feet and
half fell into one of the kitchen chairs. “After all these
years . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Judith sat down next to Renie. “Coz, if you don’t tell
us what’s happening, I’m going to have to shake you.”
“I’m already shaken,” Renie replied. “Down to my
toes.”
Joe gave Renie her drink, then reverted to his role as
detective. “Bill told you something. Therefore, he must
be alive and telephoning. Bill doesn’t like talking on
the phone. Thus, he must’ve had urgent news. Come
on, what was it? Something about your mother?”
Judith’s aunt Deb was the same age as Gertrude.
She, too, was in frail health and had been virtually confined to a wheelchair for many years. Judith knew that
it wouldn’t be surprising if Renie’s mother had . . .
But Renie was shaking her head. “No,” she said
after taking a deep swallow from her glass. “It’s our
kids. It’s why they made dinner. They thought I’d be
there, along with Bill.”
Joe frowned. “Your kids? All three of them?”
“All three of them,” Renie replied after another
quick quaff. “Tom, Anne, and Tony.”
“What about them?” Judith asked, beginning to
calm down. If the Jones offspring could make dinner,
they must be in one piece.
Renie set the glass down and wrung her hands.
SILVER SCREAM
55
“They’re getting married. All three. I think I’ll faint.”
She put her face down on the table.
“They’re getting married?” Judith cried. “Are you
serious?”
“Of course I am.” Renie’s voice was muffled.
“Why, that’s wonderful!” Judith beamed at Joe. “It’s
what you hoped for, dreamed of, wanted to . . .”
Renie’s head jerked up. “But it’s such a shock. I
don’t know any of these people they’re marrying. Our
kids have had romances that went on and on and on,
then they all broke up at one time or another. But
these . . . future in-laws . . . are strangers. What if
they’re crazy or wanted by the police or . . . poor?”
Renie wrapped her hands around her neck and made a
strangling gesture.
“Oh, good heavens!” Judith exclaimed. “Don’t be
such a snob! Why, when Mike and Kristin got engaged
I never cared for one minute if she or her family had a
dime.”
“Mike had a job,” Renie pointed out. “This is different. This is . . .” She swigged down the rest of her
drink and stood up. “I have to go home. Poor Bill. Poor
me. Good-bye.” Grabbing her jacket on the way out,
Renie dashed off into the rainy night.
“I hope she’s okay to drive,” Judith said with a worried expression.
“She only had one serious drink,” Joe responded.
“She’ll be fine.” He patted Judith’s shoulder. “Hey, can
I do anything to help with dinner?”
“Oh!” Judith jumped up. “Arlene did everything for
us. I just need to heat the rolls.”
“Sounds good,” Joe said. “I’ll wander out to peek in
on the guests.”
56
Mary Daheim
Judith clapped a hand to her head. In all the excitement over Renie, she had forgotten about the proposal
to hire Joe as a private detective.
“Joe,” she said with her back to the oven, “wait.
Bruno Zepf wants to hire you.”
Joe’s round face was puzzled. “Me? Why? Didn’t
they bring their own security?”
“If they did, they’re at the Cascadia,” Judith replied.
“I mean, they’d want their own people for the premiere
and the costume ball, right?”
Joe gave a nod. “So they want me to watch out for
them while they’re here?”
“Sort of,” Judith hedged. “They also want you to
find out what happened to their thousand-dollar truffles.”
“Good God!” Joe paused, taking notice of Judith’s
jittery movements with the oven door. “What did happen to the truffles?”
The answer came not from Judith but from Winifred
Best, who had reentered the kitchen. “They were
stolen by a bushy-haired stranger.”
Judith froze with her hand on the oven door. “I think
I’ll let Ms. Best explain it.” Putting the rolls on to heat,
she scooted out of the kitchen and into the pantry,
where Sweetums was sitting by the shelf that contained his cans of food.
But try as she might, Judith couldn’t hear the conversation between her husband and Winifred Best.
Winifred had lowered her usually sharp voice a notch
or two; Joe always spoke softly when he was in his
professional mode.
Instead, Judith heard other voices, loud and angry,
coming from the backyard. The pantry had no win- SILVER SCREAM
57
dows, so she tiptoed into the hall to look out through
the door. Sweetums followed, meowing pitifully.
The wind, which was coming from the north,
splattered rain against the glass and blurred Judith’s