All the Pretty Hearses (15 page)

Renie, holding a big wooden salad bowl, was blocking Judith’s way into the kitchen. “You look like bird crap,” Renie said. “Why do I have the feeling you’re mentally beating yourself up?”

“How do you know?” Judith snapped. “You’re supposed to be drunk.”

“I’m never so drunk that I can’t tell when you’re beating up on yourself,” Renie replied, moving out of her cousin’s way. “What now?”

“I should be relieved,” Judith said, entering the kitchen, but holding the half doors open for Renie. “Hannah took Zachary home.”

“
I’m
relieved,” Renie said. “Now I won’t have to avoid him.”

Addison was dishing up the rice pilaf. “Zachary Conrad . . .” he murmured. “Lighting department, right?”

Judith nodded. “Renie’s doing a project for them. She didn’t want Zachary to see her slaving in the kitchen. It’d ruin her professional image.”

“Conrad’s a bit of a stuffed shirt,” Addison remarked. “I’ve interviewed him two, three times over the years about power outages and rate increases. He was a pretty fair basketball player back in the day, and was a third-round draft pick, but only spent a couple of years in the pros. He went to fat. Good shot, but slow as mold.”

“Fat?” Judith said in surprise. “The guy’s a beanpole.”

Addison’s expression was puzzled. “The guy was six three, one-eighty—two-twenty before he was cut. He’d gained another fifteen the last time I saw him almost a year ago.”

Judith was shocked. “Then he’s got more than the flu wrong with him. I doubt Zachary weighs more than one-fifty. He’s as thin as a rail.”

“My God.” Addison shook his head. “That’s terrible. I should ask around City Hall to see what’s wrong with him.”

Renie had returned from setting out the salad bowl. “What’s wrong with who?”

“Zachary Conrad,” Judith said.

Renie shrugged. “He’s an executive. Let me count the ways . . .”

“Never mind.” Judith put a big serving spoon in the bowl of rice. “Did you say you’ve never met him?”

“That’s right,” Renie responded, “and I’d like to keep it that way. Why? Is he even worse than I expected?”

“He’s very ill,” Judith said. “I don’t think it’s mere flu.”

Renie looked affronted. “You think I poisoned him?”

Judith sighed. “Of course not. I’m just stating a fact.”

“Stick to feeding the herd that’s here,” Renie said. “Some of the Paines are gathering around the trough.”

Judith peered over the half doors. Andy and Paulina Paine were picking up their plates. “You’re right. And here come the three Blairs. Let’s get the rest of the food out there pronto.”

In less than five minutes, Judith, Renie, and Addison had finished setting out all of the dishes except for the desserts. The guests spent a long time reading the posted signs on each item before picking and choosing what suited their various dietary requirements. Judith, who had remained on the kitchen side of the half doors, motioned to Paulina and asked if the twins were still planning on coming to dinner.

“Who knows?” Paulina said with a careless shrug. “Kids!” She moved on along the sideboard.

Renie poked Judith. “Ask her if she likes horse meat.”

“Keep it down,” Judith warned between clenched teeth. “We’re short four settings at the table. Hannah, Zachary, the twins . . . no,
five
.” She moved farther into the kitchen to avoid being overheard. “Where’s Zoë? She was moping on the window seat the last time I saw her.”

“Which eating disorder does she have?” Renie inquired. “Starvation?”

Judith shook her head. “She’s the vegan. And future vet.”

Addison had started down the hall to the back door. “I’ll check to see if I can spot her through the French doors.”

“Good,” Judith said. She polished off her Scotch and sighed. “I can’t tell—are they enjoying themselves at all?”

“Maybe,” Renie said slowly, “they have a different way of enjoying themselves. It could be genetics. Did you ever see Norma and Wilbur actually having a good time?”

“No, now that you mention it,” Judith admitted. “It’s so different from our own family. We always had such a wonderful time at that dining room table. Lots of laughter, heated but never hurtful arguments, uncles and aunts playing tricks on each other . . . it was the way we grew up. Lots of love, plenty of good times, and amazing memories to cherish. This bunch is . . .
painful
to behold.”

Renie gave a start. “I hear a phone. It sounds like mine.” She hurried over to the counter, where she’d left her purse.

Judith began loading the dirty cookware into the dishwasher. The drone of desultory conversation, interrupted only by an occasional caustic remark, made her feel as if all her hard work had gone for naught. She wondered if Norma Paine had forced her family to accept the auction item. It wouldn’t surprise Judith. Norma’s sheer willpower wasn’t easy to fend off. Judith almost felt sorry for her cheerless guests.

A shriek from Renie broke into her gloomy thoughts. “Are you sure?” her cousin was saying into the phone. “He can’t just disappear into thin air! He’s too tall to miss.” She paused, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Keep looking, or go back to your seat and wait for him to show up.” Another pause followed as Judith kept her eye on Renie, who was now shaking her head. “Okay, okay. Just call me back and let me . . . yes, I know you hate using the phone . . . fine, g’bye.” Clicking off the cell, she leaned against the counter. “Bill’s lost Uncle Al.”

Before Judith could respond, Addison returned to the kitchen. “No sign of Zoë. Maybe she’s in the bathroom.”

“Maybe,” Renie snapped, “she’s run off with Uncle Al.”

Addison looked puzzled. “Uncle Al? Who’s—”

“Skip it,” Judith interrupted. “What happened?” she asked Renie.

“Bill and Uncle Al got their hot dogs and ate them on the concourse.” Renie moved away from the counter and started pacing around the kitchen. “Uncle Al ran into one of his many sports-loving chums. The game was about to start, so Bill told Uncle Al he was going to their seats, which, as you might guess, are practically on the floor at midcourt. Uncle Al told Bill he’d be right there. But by the middle half of the first quarter, Uncle Al never showed up. Bill went out to look for him and couldn’t find him anywhere, including the men’s room. He didn’t see any sign of whoever Uncle Al was talking to either.”

“Did Bill know who it was?” Judith asked.

“No. Bill didn’t wait to be introduced. He always likes to see the very start of a game, even the warm-ups. Bill thought the guy looked familiar. He has a good eye for faces, but couldn’t come up with a name. Tall, more Bill’s age or younger. Bill thought the guy had prematurely gray hair. And before you ask, it seemed like a friendly conversation.”

Judith thought for a moment. “Uncle Al probably knows at least half the nonstudent section. Maybe he went with this old pal to meet and greet some other mutual friends.”

Renie made a face. “It’s not impossible, but Bill would’ve seen him. Uncle Al’s six four. He stands out even in a basketball crowd, especially if whoever he’s talking to is already seated.”

“True,” Judith conceded. “But if anything happened to Uncle Al—like suddenly getting ill—someone would’ve noticed. I assume Bill asked the ushers or some other people working at the game.”

“He did,” Renie said. “Nothing to report.”

“Damn.” Judith had an urge to bite her fingernails, a lifelong habit. “I don’t know what to say.” She turned to Addison. “I should ask Walter and Sonya what happened to Zoë.”

Addison’s expression suddenly grew taut. “No. Let’s wait.”

“For what?” Judith demanded. “The entire guest list and the rest of my family members to evaporate into thin air? If you don’t ask them, I will.” She turned around and headed into the dining room.

The group at the dining room table seemed to be arguing over whether or not their particular dishes met their dietary needs, or if some of the offerings had been mislabeled.

“This can’t be real tofu,” Dennis squeaked. “It tastes like soap.”

“I hate asparagus,” Sonya declared. “Since Hannah isn’t here, why couldn’t we have something else for a vegetable?”

Octavia laughed harshly. “You
are
a vegetable, Sonya.”

“Watch your mouth!” Walter roared. “You and your father are slow learners. Our family doesn’t put up with insults from ill-bred people. We take great pride in being Paines.”

Octavia tossed a radish at Walter. “I can’t think why. Stick it, Wally. Don’t ever criticize my dad.”

“I will when he deserves it,” Walter retorted, picking the radish off of his tie. “And don’t call me Wally!”

Dennis Blair bridled. “Leave my little girl alone. Can’t you tell when she’s teasing?”

“She’s not teasing,” Sonya insisted, lips pursing.

Judith had heard enough. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to sound pleasant. “Is there anything you need?”
Like a group kick in the butt?

Most of the eyes that turned toward their hostess looked hostile or angry. The eldest Paine, Andrew, answered first. “We’re managing. Did Mama send over my special pillow?”

“Oh!” Judith exclaimed, having forgotten about the delivery Norma had made the previous day. “Yes. I wasn’t here, but it’s upstairs.”
I think.
For all I care it could be in Rankerses’ hedge.
“I understand,” she went on, glancing at Walter, “that one of you lives on a ranch.”

The Paine brothers frowned at Judith. “A ranch?” Andrew said. “No. Paulina and I live over on the Eastside. Gated community. Very nice.”

Paulina rolled her eyes. “The gates keep the rest of the population safe from the residents. They can only be unlocked from the outside.”

Andrew stared angrily at his wife. “I bought that house for you! It’s five thousand square feet of utter comfort.”

“You bought it to show off,” Paulina snarled. “I never wanted to live in a monstrous place like that. I was perfectly satisfied with our nice house in town. You’re the one who complains about the commute to your damned food factory.”

Andrew turned glum. “I thought it’d make you happy. I guess I was wrong. Again.”

Walter reached around Sonya to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t bicker like this. Mama wouldn’t approve. She paid for us to have a nice time together.”

“Together!” Sarah Blair cried. “I hate together!” She jumped out of her chair, knocked the salad bowl’s wooden spoon onto the floor, shoved her way past Judith, and fled from the dining room.

“Touchy,” Walter muttered. “Baby sister’s always been the weak link. Hannah’s made of sterner stuff.”

Paulina sniffed. “Are you referring to the loose nuts and bolts inside Hannah’s head?”

“Now, Paulina . . .” Andrew began, but caught his wife’s warning glance and shut up.

Judith noted that there were now six empty chairs at the table. The auction event was a fiasco. Norma Paine had wasted Wilbur’s hard-earned money.
But it’s not
my
fault,
she thought. And yet she felt guilty. Not every guest at Hillside Manor had been happy. Some of them had ended up dead.
Not my fault, either,
she told herself.
They had brought their
victim status with them.

But Judith couldn’t let the sense of guilt subside. It was in her nature to make people feel good. That was the reason she’d become an innkeeper. Failure clung to her like a damp shirt.

“I’m sorry you’re not enjoying yourselves,” she blurted. “Some of your family members seem to have left. The twins never actually arrived.” She turned to Sonya. “Do you know where Zoë went?”

Sonya looked away; Walter fidgeted with his linen napkin. The silence in the dining room seemed filled with foreboding. Judith felt a shiver creep up her spine.

It was Sonya who finally spoke. “For all we know, she’s dead!” She burst into tears and collapsed against Walter’s shoulder.

Chapter Thirteen

J
udith was momentarily speechless. Sonya’s body shook as the tears flowed and she made little mewing noises. Walter awkwardly patted her back. “Now, now, sweetheart, you know Zoë’s fine. Moody, that’s our girl. I guess she wasn’t feeling festive tonight.”

Paulina looked pale, Dennis hung his head, and Octavia seemed perturbed. Judith moved closer to the table. “Can I help in any way?”

Walter waved a hand. “Just nerves. Postholiday blues.”

“Has Zoë actually left?” Judith inquired.

“Uh . . .” Walter stopped patting his wife and rubbed his balding head. “Well . . . she’s not here, is she?”

Andrew, who was seated in front of Judith, turned in his chair. “Didn’t you poison a guest a few years ago?”

Judith was aghast. “Of course not! A guest poisoned a fortune-teller. I didn’t even know those people. Did Norma—I mean, your mother—tell you that?”

Sonya sniffled before looking up at Judith. “It was in the newspapers and on TV.” She sniffled again. “A couple of years later a gangster was shot by your mother.”

“What about that movie big shot?” Walter demanded, all but shoving his wife away from him. “Didn’t he drown in your kitchen sink?”

“Hey!” Renie, wielding a carving knife, had come up behind Judith, startling not only her cousin but everyone at the table. “Knock it off! Don’t any of you idiots remember that your father—or father-in-law or whatever that wimp Wilbur is to you—was a prime suspect in a stabbing death at
church
?”

Andrew had grown red in the face. “Papa wasn’t a killer! He was the Easter Bunny!”

Paulina had stood up. “May I say something before the kitchen help goes samurai with that knife?”

Andrew put a hand on his wife’s arm. “Don’t, darling, please. You’ll only make things worse.”

“Get stuffed!” Paulina snapped, shaking off Andrew’s hand. “In the interest of common decency, I say we end this farce right now. It isn’t fair to Mrs. Flynn. It isn’t fair to any of us, really. Be honest—we don’t like or trust each other much. Not without reason, but I won’t go into—”

“Stop!” Walter bellowed. “Don’t you dare hang our dirty laundry out to dry here!”

Paulina narrowed her eyes at her brother-in-law. “I didn’t intend to. That’s why I think we should adjourn.” She pushed her chair back, moved around behind Andrew, and offered her hand to Judith. “Thank you. It’s not your fault these Paines are such . . . pains.”

Sonya was still sniffling, but her tears had dried. “She’s right. Let’s go.”

Andrew seemed reluctant. “Mama paid for . . .”

Sonya shook her head, but said nothing more. She, too, got to her feet and left the table. Octavia tugged at Dennis’s sleeve. “Come on, Dad. You never should’ve let Sarah con you into this . . . whatever it was supposed to be.”

Dennis gave his daughter a bleak look. “Sarah insisted that her mama thought it would be an opportunity for us to iron things out as a family. I guess she was wrong.” He scowled and scrunched up his napkin. “Where
is
Sarah? Did she leave without us?”

The question was answered by Sarah herself, who stood in the doorway between the dining room and hall. “Mama
was
wrong,” she said, her voice quivering. “Even she can’t fix our problems. Get our luggage. I can’t wait to leave town.”

Dennis reluctantly stood up. Octavia took his arm as they joined Sarah and disappeared into the hall. Paulina had already shaken hands with Judith and made her exit. The Paine brothers had little choice but to follow their wives. As the room emptied, Judith’s guilt subsided, but was replaced with melancholy.

As often happened, Renie could read her cousin’s mind. She put a hand on Judith’s shoulder. “Where’s Grandpa doing the after-dinner jig? Where’s my dad asking what kind of apple pie Grandma made? Where’s Auntie Vance pouring ice water down Uncle Corky’s neck? Where’s Cousin Sue wondering what happened to their portable bar?” She had spoken softly, but suddenly raised her voice. “And where the hell is Uncle Al? He should be doing card tricks for the kids and making football bets with Uncle Win!”

“Good question,” Judith murmured, realizing that her eyes had grown moist. “Oh, coz, we had such fun! And these miserable people can’t get through a free dinner without practically going down to the mat. Why are they so unhappy?”

Addison had joined the cousins. “If I may intrude, my pat answer would be the way they were raised. That’s probably part of it, but there’s more to it. I think something serious is going on with the Paines. They strike me as running scared, a lot like the bulls of Pamplona.”

“Really? Why?” Judith said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she’d taken out of her slacks pocket.

Addison sighed. “We’ll sit down and talk about it. But we should clean up the mess they left. It reminds me of wire photos I’ve seen after the bulls are chased to the ring. And often, somebody besides the animals gets gored.”

Judith shook her head. “Don’t say things like that. You scare me. Let’s go to work.”

They had barely gotten started when noises from the front hall caught their attention. “Good Lord,” Judith said under her breath. “I forgot they’d gone upstairs to get their luggage. I hope they didn’t hear us talking about them.”

“Who cares if they did?” Renie said, loaded down with dinner plates. “Want me to give them a real send-off?”

“No!” Judith winced. “Let them go—quietly.”

Just as she was about to follow Renie and Addison into the kitchen, Andrew Paine came into the dining room. “Excuse me,” he said in a querulous tone. “I can’t find my special pillow.”

“Oh.” Judith kept a tight hold on the serving dishes she’d removed from the table. “I put it away . . .” The exact location eluded her. “Let me take care of these dirty dishes first.”

“Mama will be mad if you lost it,” Andrew said from behind Judith as she entered the kitchen. “They’re very expensive and have to be special-ordered.”

Renie, who’d piled the dinner plates into the sink, shot Andrew a disparaging look. “My husband uses one. He has a chronic bad neck. Try Brookstone, costs a hunsky.” She retrieved the carving knife she’d wielded earlier. “No reason to lose any . . . sleep over a pillow, is there?” She licked her lips and ran a finger along the blade. “Good-bye, Andrew.”

He turned tail and rushed from the kitchen. Judith made a face at Renie before going back into the dining room. “Try the linen closet!” she shouted after Andrew. “I just remembered—” The front door banged shut before she could finish.

During the next few minutes, the sounds of footsteps and the closings of the door that followed seemed to indicate that the rest of the Paines had finally departed. Just before nine, Judith, Renie, and Addison had cleared everything away, the dishwasher had been emptied and reloaded, and the living room was restored to order. Judith poured herself a glass of ice water, Renie got a can of Pepsi from the fridge, and Addison found a Diet Coke in the pantry. The trio retreated to the living room and collapsed on the matching sofas by the fireplace.

“I should’ve built a fire,” Judith remarked, glancing at the empty grate. “I’m used to Joe doing it.”

Addison moved as if to get up. “Do you want me to start one?”

“No,” Judith said as the grandfather clock chimed nine. “It’s too late.” She let out a little gasp. “I forgot Mother’s dinner!”

Renie, who was sitting next to her cousin, waved a hand. “I didn’t. I took it out to her between rounds three and four of the Paine-filled smackdown. Don’t worry. It wasn’t tofu, it was the nonvegan lasagna with a salad and French bread.”

Judith leaned back on the sofa. “Thanks, coz. I’m a mess.”

“I don’t blame you.” Renie gazed across the coffee table to Addison. “Well? Are we going to do a postmortem or what? Make it snappy. I should go home and get some work done. The later it gets, the more creative I seem to be. I might wind up one project before two
A.M.
So start dishing, Addison. You’re the one in the know.”

“I need more information on the cast of characters,” Addison replied. “I realize neither of you knows these people, but you do have some family background. Any chance I can get something to write on?”

Judith started to get up, but Renie nudged her back onto the sofa. “Sit. I know where you keep your notebooks and tablets. Be right back.” She hurried out of the living room.

“I owe you a huge thanks for all the help you’ve given me tonight,” Judith said to Addison. “I don’t think Renie and I could’ve coped alone.”

“You probably would’ve been just fine,” he replied, putting his feet up on a small stack of magazines atop the coffee table. “Your cousin might’ve dispatched some of those ghastly people with that carving knife, though. For a little squirt, she’s kind of feisty.”

“She’s never suffered fools gladly,” Judith responded. “Renie’s especially dangerous when armed.”

“Hey,” Renie said, returning to the room and tossing a spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen at Addison, “please don’t talk about me when I’m gone. I’m not deaf. Even I heard those gunshots. Scoot over, coz. I need room for my giant purse. If Bill hasn’t called me in the next twenty minutes, I’m calling him. The basketball game should be over by then. Knowing how Bill hates to use the phone, I assume Uncle Al showed up, and there’s no way either of them would leave courtside to make a call.”

“You’re probably right,” Judith allowed. “I hope so.” She turned to Addison. “Should we notify the SPCA or whichever agency can haul away that poor dead horse?”

Addison grimaced. “I doubt they’d come out this late. Calling the police might be a better idea. Let them handle it.”

Judith bit her lip. “I don’t know . . . I’d like to get through this latest guest debacle without the cops showing up. The not infrequent arrival of emergency vehicles isn’t good for Hillside Manor’s reputation.”

Addison shrugged. “Then wait. The horse isn’t going anywhere.” He flipped open the notebook. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. Norma and Wilbur Paine, parents. Wilbur’s an attorney, right?”

Judith nodded. “Norma was a legal secretary—that’s how she and Wilbur met—but she hasn’t worked since I’ve known her.”

Addison made a note. “Eldest son is . . . Andrew?”

“Also right. Married to Paulina. They strike me as ill-matched.” She watched Addison closely, but he seemed to have no obvious reaction.

“The twins’ parents?”

“Yes. I don’t know if it’s a first or second marriage.” She kept her gaze on Addison, but there was still no sign that he already knew Paulina. “Chad and Chase look about twenty,” she continued. “Paulina alluded to Andrew’s business being in town because he has to commute. She also mentioned that he sells food to big companies.” She looked at Renie. “Any idea what business he’s in?”

Renie shook her head. “I didn’t even know he existed. Both the Paine sons would’ve been several years ahead of our kids at SOTS. We know Andrew and Paulina live in a gated community on the Eastside. Other than that, I flunk.”

“Okay, one couple down,” Addison murmured. “Let’s move on to Walter and Sonya. Anything you know about them except that they don’t live on a ranch? And is Zoë their only child?”

The cousins exchanged blank looks. “Never knew about Zoë,” Renie said.

“I never knew much about Walter,” Judith added. “When the adult Paine children were growing up, I didn’t live on the hill.” She slipped off her shoes and wiggled her toes. “According to Zachary, Zoë is studying to be a vet. First year, on winter break. If Walter mentioned his job, I didn’t hear it. All I can add is that Zoë seemed happy when she arrived. I don’t recall actually speaking to Zoë, but I heard her giggle when she came in. Then she apparently turned glum during the cocktail hour.”

Renie nodded. “I met them at the door. Zoë was smiling and seemed pleasant. Walter acted . . . hearty? I thought maybe things were going to turn out fairly well, but looking back, maybe it was all an act.”

“Or they wanted to make a good impression?” Addison suggested.

Renie looked thoughtful. “Possibly. He was praising his mother for buying the auction event. Come to think of it, Sonya didn’t say much, either. Walter did all the talking.”

“Okay,” Addison said, clicking the ballpoint a few times. “I know something about Zachary. He’s in charge of the commercial and industrial department, reporting directly to the superintendent. That’s the capacity in which I interviewed him, anyway. He struck me as a fairly smart guy, no sense of humor, no imagination, a go-by-the-manual type.”

“Aargh,” Renie groaned. “In other words, just what I expected.”

Addison chuckled. “There was one thing, though, that humanized him. Besides having been a pretty good basketball player, that is. He tended to elude certain questions. Not unusual for his type when they know they’re going to be quoted, but somehow it was different with him, as if he thought I was going to spring something on him that he wasn’t expecting. Wary, as if there was something I
should
ask him, but didn’t.”

“Interesting,” Judith murmured.

Renie shot her cousin a droll look. “Interesting that that type is interesting at all. They’re usually soporifically dull.”

“Not a totally unwarranted comment,” Addison said, turning to Judith. “The other interesting thing is that you said he was very thin. That makes me wonder if he’s seriously ill. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him.”

Judith stifled a yawn. “Hannah is certainly overbearing. If Zachary is seriously ill, she seems lacking in sympathy. Not that any of the Paines struck me as compassionate.”

Renie frowned. “You really are worn-out. Your keen insight into human nature is slipping. Octavia started out as a twit, but she made one of the evening’s few charitable contributions in defending her father.”

“That,” Judith said with a wry expression, “is because Octavia’s not a Paine. Walter’s crack about her not knowing much about the family’s pride made that pretty clear. And Octavia referred to Sarah by name—not as her mother. There’s no resemblance between them either. To clinch my case, Sarah is the youngest of the Paines—she can’t be more than early forties. Octavia is midtwenties, maybe older.”