with Joe’s help.
Vito Patricelli’s customary calm was ruffled; he’d
removed his sunglasses. “What happened? How did
the fire start?”
He was ignored by both Flynns as the emergency
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317
crew charged up the stairs with Eugenia Fleming in
their wake. Somewhat to her surprise, Judith didn’t
recognize any of the rescuers. Maybe, she thought a bit
hazily, that was because it was a Monday. She couldn’t
recall anyone ever dying or almost dying at Hillside
Manor on a Monday. This must be a different crew.
Somewhat giddily, she wondered if eventually she’d
know them all—police, firefighters, medics, maybe
even a coroner or two.
“Clear the area!” one of the firefighters shouted.
From somewhere on the stairs, Judith could hear a
vaguely familiar female voice giving orders for the rest
of the guests to stay put. The girlish tones sounded
more like Ellie than the buglelike Eugenia. But the
voice belonged to a newcomer.
The medics had moved Winifred down the hall.
“We’ll work on her here,” one of them announced with
a slight Spanish accent. “Everybody else get lost.”
Finally, Joe got Judith to her feet. “Can you walk?”
he whispered.
She bit her lip, then wiped at her eyes, which were
still smarting. “I’m not sure,” she replied unsteadily.
But one foot went in front of the other. There was none
of the agonizing pain she’d suffered from previous dislocations. Perhaps the sensations trying to move
Winifred had only been a warning.
The others had already trooped downstairs, except
for Vito, who lingered in the hallway.
Eugenia was standing under the arch between the
entry hall and the living room. Cautiously, Judith
stepped over the tan fire hoses.
“Where is that woman?” Eugenia demanded, fists
on hips. “It must be all her fault.”
318
Mary Daheim
Judith stared. “What woman?”
“Your cleaning woman,” Eugenia snapped. “What
kind of a person is she to cause such a mess?”
“My—” Judith stopped, allowing Joe to help her
onto the sofa.
Eugenia followed, a bulldog running down a cat.
“I let her in while I was waiting for you to serve
breakfast,” Eugenia said, incensed. “How did I know
she was a pyromaniac?”
Judith forced her brain to kick-start. “No. That
couldn’t have been my cleaning woman. I spoke to her
on the phone just before I went upstairs looking for
Winifred. She lives a good four miles from here.”
“What did this person look like?” Joe asked, all
business.
“Why . . .” Eugenia paused. “Like a cleaning
woman. Which is who she said she was. Gray-haired,
thin, homely.”
Oddly enough, the description fit Phyliss Rackley.
But that was impossible. Ignoring her hip, Judith
jumped up. “Where is she now?”
“How do I know?” Eugenia shot back. “She went
upstairs just before the others came down to breakfast.”
“Christ!” Joe took off at a run, apparently heading
for the back stairs. The sound of water thundered overhead. Through the big bay window, Judith could see
two firefighters climbing up to the roof.
“Oh, no!” she wailed. “My poor B&B! It’s ruined!”
It was only then that she realized the fire wasn’t the
only thing that had laid waste to Room One. So overcome with shock and fear had Judith been at the time,
she had failed to take in the more minor damage.
Winifred’s room had been ransacked.
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319
*
*
*
Joe returned a few minutes later with Dilys Oaks.
Judith realized that it was the young policewoman’s
voice she had recognized earlier.
“Nothing,” Joe said, out of breath. “We couldn’t
find any trace of the so-called cleaning woman.”
Judith turned to Eugenia, who had just finished a
call on her cell phone. “Did you notice a car outside
when you let this woman in?”
“A car?” Eugenia looked indignant. “How could I?
It’s too foggy to see past the front steps. I don’t know
when I’ve been in such a miserable place. Except
Croatia, perhaps.”
“Look here,” Judith said, her temper flaring, “you
were the one who admitted this woman. Why didn’t
you let me open the door?”
“You weren’t here,” Eugenia retorted. “Neither was
your husband. Besides, your cleaning woman had a
key. Apparently, she was having trouble turning it.”
Judith frowned. She must have been in the toolshed
with her mother. Maybe Joe had gone to the bathroom.
It wasn’t really fair to blame Eugenia for the disaster.
If, Judith suddenly thought, Eugenia was telling the
truth. As for the key, perhaps the intruder was faking it.
Or, it suddenly occurred to her, someone had found
Dade’s missing key. But who?
A firefighter, moving clumsily in his bulky safety
suit, entered the living room. “We think everything’s
under control,” he announced, then turned to Joe. “The
fire itself was just about extinguished by the sprinkler
system. But there’s quite a bit of water damage. We’ll
stick around to check things out, but if there’s danger
to the wiring, you’d better think about staying some- 320
Mary Daheim
where else for a while. Also, it may take some time for
the investigators to do their job and for the insurance
adjusters to estimate the amount of damage.”
“That’s impossible!” Judith exclaimed. “This is a
bed-and-breakfast establishment! We can’t shut down.
And we certainly aren’t going to move out.”
With regret, the firefighter shook his head. “Sorry,
ma’am. I’m afraid you’ll have to do both. Safety first.”
Before Judith could argue further, the medics appeared on the staircase with Winifred on a gurney with
her eyes closed and an oxygen mask over her face. Vito
was right behind them.
“They’re taking her to the hospital to treat her for
smoke inhalation,” the lawyer announced from the
entry hall, a frown on his usually imperturbable face.
“I don’t get it,” Judith put in, moving with care.
“The fire had just started. There was plenty of smoke,
but not enough to render Ms. Best unconscious. She
wasn’t asleep; she was in her bathrobe lying atop the
bedcovers.”
The medics didn’t respond as they wheeled
Winifred out of the house and disappeared.
Vito started to follow, but Eugenia waylaid him with
a firm hand. “Mrs. Flynn’s right. What’s going on with
Win?”
With a pained expression, Vito leaned down to
whisper in Eugenia’s ear. She gave a start, then
scowled. “The medics told you that? I don’t believe
it!” she snapped, then turned on Judith as Vito exited
the house. “Your cleaning woman knocked Winifred
unconscious!”
“What?” Judith shrieked. “That wasn’t my cleaning
woman!”
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Eugenia shrugged her broad shoulders. “As you say.