MARY DAHEIM
Suture
SELF
Contents
ONE
JUDITH GROVER MCMONIGLE Flynn took
one look at the newspaper…
1
TWO
JUDITH’S SURGERY WAS scheduled for
eight-thirty on Monday. Renie’s was…
16
THREE
IT WAS ALMOST a quarter of an hour
before
the…
33
FOUR
NO ONE HAD died by morning. Judith awoke
after
a…
49
FIVE
JUDITH WASN’T SURPRISED by Addison
Kirby’s declaration. It only confirmed…
68
SIX
JOE AND BILL arrived shortly after
three o’clock. Both had…
87
SEVEN
TEN MINUTES LATER, Dr. Garnett surprised
the cousins with a professional…
99
EIGHT
“HOW,” JUDITH DEMANDED, “does a car
that’s in for service…
118
NINE
“WHAT ELSE AM I supposed to do while I’m
lying…
137
TEN
ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, breakfast
was again palatable.Dr. Ming and
Dr.
Alfonso…
150
ELEVEN
BOB JR. HAD scarcely been gone more than
a few seconds…
167
TWELVE
UNFORTUNATELY, BOTH JUDITH and
Renie began to suffer considerable pain…
187
THIRTEEN
THE WHEELCHAIR SAILED into Addison
Kirby’s room and bumped up…
206
FOURTEEN
HEATHER CHINN CAME running. It wasn’t
Renie’s insistent buzzer or…
222
FIFTEEN
“SO,” RENIE SAID after Judith had finished
speaking to Woody…
238
SIXTEEN
JUDITH WILLED HERSELF not to faint
twice in one day,…
251
SEVENTEEN
“I FOUND MR. FLYNN,” Margie Randall
announced with a triumphant expression.
267
EIGHTEEN
“MOM! WHAT’S WRONG?”
282
NINETEEN
RENIE WAS AMAZED by Judith’s theory.
She was even more…
294
TWENTY
JUDITH LET OUT a terrible cry of anguish.
Joe
tried…
308
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ONE
JUDITH GROVER MCMONIGLE Flynn took one look at
the newspaper headline, released the brake on her
wheelchair, and rolled into the kitchen.
“I’m not sure it’s safe to go into the hospital,” she
said to her husband, Joe Flynn. “Look at this.”
Joe, who had just come in through the back door,
hung his all-weather jacket on a peg in the hallway
and stared at the big, bold front-page headline.
ACTRESS DIES FOLLOWING ROUTINE SURGERY
John Fremont Succumbs After Minor Foot Operation
“Who’s John Fremont?” Joe asked after kissing
his wife on the cheek. “The explorer? No wonder he
wrecked his feet, going over all those mountains.
Huh. I thought he was already dead.”
“He’s been dead for over a hundred years,” Judith
replied. “It’s a—”
“A shame the local newspaper doesn’t jump on
those stories faster,” Joe interrupted. “What’s
Queen Victoria up to this week?”
Judith made a face at Joe. “It’s a typo,” she said
in a testy voice. “It’s supposed to be Joan Fremont.
See, there it is in the lead. You know who she is—
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Mary Daheim
we’ve seen her in several local stage productions. She
is—was—a wonderful actress.”
Joe frowned as he read deeper into the story. “Jeez,
don’t these people proofread anymore?”
“That’s not my point,” Judith asserted. “That’s the
second well-known person in three weeks to peg out at
Good Cheer Hospital. I’m getting scared to go in next
Monday for my hip replacement.”
Joe opened the cupboard and got out a bottle of
Scotch. “You mean Somosa, the pitcher? That’s no
mystery. He was probably full of amphetamines.” With
an air of apology, Joe gestured with the bottle. “Sorry,
I hate to drink in front of you, but I spent ten hours sitting on my butt for that damned insurance stakeout.”
“Never mind.” Judith sighed with a martyred air that
would have made her Aunt Deb proud. “I’m used to
sacrifice and self-denial. After a month in this stupid
wheelchair and taking all those pain pills, I suppose I
should be looking forward to surgery and getting back
to a normal life. How’d the stakeout go?”
“It didn’t,” Joe replied, dumping ice cubes into a
glass. “The guy didn’t budge from his sofa except to go
to the can. Then he used a walker. Maybe he’s legit.
The insurance company expected him to play a set of
tennis or jump over high hurdles or do the rumba. I
hate these alleged insurance-fraud assignments.”
“They pay well,” Judith pointed out, giving the
amber liquid in Joe’s glass a longing look.
“Oh, yeah,” Joe agreed, sitting down at the kitchen
table. “We can use the money with the B&B shut down
for five weeks. I’m expensive to keep, and you’re not
delivering.”
Teasing or not, the comment nettled Judith. Just
after Christmas, her right hip had deteriorated to the
SUTURE SELF
3
point that she’d been confined to a wheelchair. With
the help of Joe and their neighbors, Carl and Arlene
Rankers, Judith had managed to keep Hillside Manor
running smoothly through the holidays. But Carl and
Arlene had left the day after New Year’s for a vacation
in Palm Desert. And even though Joe was retired from
the police force, his part-time private investigations
had become almost a full-time job. It had been a difficult decision for Judith, but she had been forced to cancel all reservations for the first ten days of January,
until the Rankerses’ return. Her only consolation was
that the days in question were the slowest time of the
year for the Bed-and-Breakfast industry.
“We’ve lost at least four grand,” Judith said in a morose tone.
Joe gave a slight shake of his head. “Dubious. The
weather around here this winter isn’t exactly enticing
to visitors.”
Judith glanced up at the window over the kitchen
sink. It was raining. It seemed to have been raining for
months. Fifty degrees and raining. No sun breaks, no
snow, just relentless rain and gloomy, glowering skies.
Day after day of gray, gray, and grayer. Even a Pacific
Northwest native like Judith had an occasional hankering for a patch of blue sky.
“People still visit people,” Judith said, unwilling to
let herself be cheered.
Joe gave a solemn shake of his head. “Not in January. Everybody’s broke.”
“Including us,” Judith said. “Because of me. Renie
and Bill are broke, too,” she added, referring to her
cousin and her cousin’s husband. “Renie can’t work
with her bad shoulder. This is the busiest time of year
for her, with all the annual reports. She usually designs
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Mary Daheim
at least a half-dozen, which means big bucks. She’s out
of commission until March.”
“When’s her surgery?” Joe inquired.
“A week after mine,” Judith replied. “We’ll be like
ships passing in the night. Or should I say sinking?”
Judith emitted another heavy sigh as she rolled over to