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the most popular brands in America. Why not steal a

Mercedes or a Cadillac or a Beamer?”

“Addison has been covering city hall,” Judith went

on, “which means he’s probably got the inside dope on

Blanche Van Boeck. But if it’s something ruinous, why

not kill him instead of his wife? Why kill Somosa and

Randall? Or, given Blanche’s clout, why not get Addison fired?”

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“What,” Renie demanded, “were those morons at

the Toyota place thinking of? They’re usually so reliable. Why wasn’t somebody watching Cammy? Why

did they leave the keys in the car?” She stopped and

made one of her typical futile attempts to snap her fingers. “Because they’d finished their work and sometimes they tuck the keys under the floor mat on the

driver’s side.” She hung her head. “Oh, my God, until

my shoulder heals, I won’t be able to drive Cammy for

months! Maybe we won’t ever ride in her again! What

if she’s been driven over a cliff?”

Judith sat up straight and glared at Renie. “Will you

shut up?

“Huh?” Renie swerved around to face Judith.

“What’s wrong?”

“I thought,” Judith said in an irritated voice, “we

were trying to sleuth.”

Renie stifled a yawn. “We were. We were trying to

figure out what happened to Cammy.”

“No, we weren’t,” Judith argued. “We were speculating about methods and motives.”

You were,” Renie shot back. “You can afford to do

that, you have two cars, your Subaru and Joe’s MG.

Bill and I are now demoted to taking the bus.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Judith sniffed. “You have insurance, you can rent a car until Cammy turns up.

And if she—I mean, it—doesn’t, you can buy another

one.”

“Easy for you to say,” Renie snapped. “Go ahead,

feel all smug. See if I care.” She reached out with her

good arm and pulled the curtain between them.

Again, the room was silent. Someone was paging a

doctor over the intercom. A glimpse of hospital equipment could be seen rolling down the hall. Somewhere,

SUTURE SELF

143

female voices laughed. Judith sat up in bed, her arms

folded across her chest, her lower lip thrust out.

It was she who broke the silence. “Coz. We never

fight. What’s wrong with us?”

Judith heard Renie sigh. “We’re tired, we hurt,

we’ve been through major surgery, and we got a room

next to a corpse. My car’s been stolen, you’re stuck

with a major life decision about telling Mike who’s

who on his family tree. What else could be wrong?”

“You’re right,” Judith said. “We’re a mess.”

“Justifiably so,” said Renie, pulling the curtain back.

“It’s going on nine o’clock and we need a nap. I’m

shutting off the light.”

“Go for it,” murmured Judith, clicking off her own

bedside lamp. “Frankly, I’m exhausted.”

“We should be,” Renie said. “G’night.”

“Mmm,” said Judith.

Five minutes later, the night nurse, whose name was

Trudy and who wasn’t given to idle chatter, came in to

take the cousins’ vital signs and replenish their supply

of pain medication. Ten minutes later, a workman in

overalls arrived to check the thermostat.

“Kinda cold tonight, huh?” he said, fiddling with the

dial.

Judith and Renie didn’t respond.

“Still snowing,” he said, pounding on the radiator

with his fist. “Must be close to six inches out there.”

The cousins remained silent.

“Lots of accidents out there,” the workman said.

“Damned fools don’t know how to drive in this

weather. All those folks who move up here from California.”

Judith buried her head in the pillow; Renie chewed

on her blanket and swore under her breath.

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Mary Daheim

“Warm enough now?” the workman asked after yet

another bang on the radiator, which wheezed like a

dying asthmatic.

“Fine,” Judith bit off.

“Okey-dokey,” he said. “I’ll come back to check on

it later.”

“Don’t,” Renie said, “or I’ll have to kill you.”

“Har, har,” said the workman, who finally left.

Seven minutes later, Trudy returned. Judith knew it

was exactly seven minutes because she was now wide

awake and had been staring at her watch with its glowin-the-dark dial.

“You need to use the bedpan, Mrs. Flynn,” Trudy announced. “You haven’t voided for almost two hours.

Are you sure you’re drinking enough fluids?”

“Yes. No. I’m trying to sleep,” Judith said, sounding

cross.

“Plenty of time for that,” Trudy said. “It’s only a little after nine. Come, come, try to lift those hips.”

“Good Lord,” muttered Renie in a mutinous voice.

After the usual painful effort to move on and off the

bedpan, Judith mumbled her thanks to Trudy and

closed her eyes.

The radiator clanged and clanked, whistled and

hissed. After two minutes of what sounded like a oneman band, Renie pressed her buzzer.

“We can’t sleep with that damned thing making such

a racket,” she complained. “It was fine until Stoopnagle came in to supposedly fix it.”

Almost ten minutes passed before a male nurse

peeked in. Judith explained the problem. The nurse

said he’d see what he could do about it. The radiator

continued its atonal cacophony.

SUTURE SELF

145

“I’m wide awake,” Renie declared, sitting up and

turning her light back on. “Damn.”

“I am, too,” Judith grumbled. “It’s no joke about not

being able to get any rest in a hospital.”

“I’m hungry again,” Renie said. “I wonder if there’s

a microwave around here. Don’t the nurses usually

have one? I think I smelled popcorn earlier in the

evening.”

“Why do you need a microwave?” Judith asked.

“To heat the leftover chicken,” Renie responded. “I

don’t care much for cold chicken, unless it’s in a sandwich or a salad.”

“Go ask,” Judith said.

“They won’t tell me,” Renie replied, getting out of

bed. “I’ll take the chicken with me and see what I can

find. There’s a biscuit left over, too, and one piece of

corn. I might as well bring them along.”

“Good luck,” said Judith in a tired voice.

Renie was gone so long that Judith had almost fallen

asleep when her cousin returned.

“Pssst!” Renie called from the doorway.

“Huh?” Judith raised her head from the pillow and

tried to focus on Renie. “What?”

Renie gestured with her bag of food. “Mr. Mummy.

Sister Jacqueline just went in there and closed the

door.”

Struggling to sit up, Judith gave herself a shake.

“So?”

“Isn’t this a little late for a visit from the hospital administrator?” Renie asked, half in and half out of the

room.

“Maybe,” Judith allowed. “But is it suspicious?”

Renie stepped all the way inside, keeping her eye on

the closed door across the hall. “I think so. It’s pretty

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Mary Daheim

quiet out here right now. I was sneaking out of the staff

room, where I found a microwave, and I turned the