Clam Wake (20 page)

“Maybe your relatives will get back in time,” Katie said. “Mom decided to hold the funeral at their former church in the city, but the pastor is out of town until next weekend.”

“Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince might be home by then,” Judith responded. “Renie and I will probably head home Monday morning. We both have to earn our livings.”

“What,” Katie inquired, glancing at Renie, who was chewing lustily on her candy, “does she do?”

“Besides eat?” Judith retorted. “She's a graphic designer. She uses food instead of paints for her artwork. You'd love her crinkly-french-fry design for the state potato growers association.”

“Shuddub!” Renie burbled to her cousin.

Judith ignored her. “How is your mother?” she asked Katie.

“Okay. But I worry about her. She's not used to being alone.” Katie fretted at the gold-and-diamond wedding band on her left hand. “I'm taking the boys home tomorrow night because I have to teach at the preschool Monday. My brother, Dave, is stuck in Denver. They're snowed in.”

Judith offered an encouraging smile. “Your mother seems strong. Besides, I'm sure the neighbors will come calling on her.”

Katie flinched. “I don't know. Mom has never been one to have a lot of company. She likes a quiet life.”

“They won't expect her to entertain them. They'll only want to show they care. I imagine some of them have already stopped by.”

“Not yet,” Katie murmured.

Judith hid her surprise. “Maybe they feel awkward. And they probably know you're there with the boys.”

Katie got to her feet. “True. It's that Mom . . . is sort of standoffish.”

Judith also rose. “She was welcoming to Renie and me.”

“That's because you found Dad,” Katie said, moving to the door. “She wanted to hear what you had to say.”

“I see,” Judith murmured.

Except that she didn't.

H
ow could you still be hungry?” Judith demanded of Renie after Katie left. “You just had dinner.”

“So?” Renie flopped onto the sofa. “I always have room for dark chocolate. What do you make of the antisocial Edna? Do her neighbors know about her plethora of pills and stay away?”

Judith took her place in the overstuffed chair. “That's possible. But it also puts a different light on Ernie, doesn't it?”

Kicking off her shoes, Renie turned thoughtful. “That his social life was dull and thus he had to seek companionship elsewhere?”

“That's one possibility,” Judith agreed, “but then there's all the drugs Edna was allegedly taking. Yes, she has some arthritis, but so did Grandma Grover, who sewed, made quilts, and did needlepoint.”

“Edna may be a bit of a hypochondriac. That doesn't make her antisocial. Maybe it's just her nature.”

“Also possible.” Judith fingered her chin. “There's got to be a motive for Ernie's murder. Unlike most of the locals, I doubt it was a random nut.” She stood up. “Let's call on the Bendareks. We need to get more background. I'll figure out where they live.”

“Check for the house with the busted front door,” Renie said, putting on her shoes. “Didn't Zach say he broke it?”

“Yes, but he might've exaggerated. Where's the map of the development? I saw it around here somewhere.”

“Look under the island phone book,” Renie advised.

Judith found the map and realized she'd noticed it after putting the phone away the previous evening. “The streets don't have signs, but we can figure them out easily enough. The Bendareks are on Salmon Road, one down from here—which, as you know, is Mussel Road. They live three doors south on . . .” She paused, recalling the Webers' address. “This house number is even, so the Bendareks' must be odd.”

“He
is
kind of odd,” Renie remarked. “Maybe she is, too.”

“We'll find out,” Judith said, getting her jacket. “Let's go.”

The rain had dwindled to a drizzle, though the road was muddy, which made for slow walking, especially for Judith. It took them five minutes to reach their destination.

“The door's fine,” Renie noted. “Only a dent or two. Maybe Zach tried opening it with his head and forgot he wasn't wearing a helmet.”

Judith pressed the bell. The cousins smiled when they heard a chime playing the University's fight song. After almost a minute, the door was opened by a tall, lanky teenage boy.

“What's up?” he asked with a vaguely curious expression. Or maybe, Judith thought, he was vague by nature. She introduced herself and Renie before asking if the boy's parents were home. “Parents?” he repeated. “You mean Pop and Mop?”

“I . . . guess I do,” Judith said.

The teenager loped out of sight.

“Mop?” Renie murmured. “Mrs. Bendarek is a cleaning device?”

“Aren't we all?” Judith responded under her breath.

A beautiful, petite woman with a startling mass of auburn curls came to the door. Maybe, Judith thought, the hair was the reason the boy called her Mop. “Hello,” she said in a musical voice. “I'm Becca. Chad told me you're related to some of the neighbors. Come in.”

The cousins followed her into a darkened room where Zach and Chad sat on a big sofa watching a pro football game on a big-screen TV.

“Mute it,” Becca ordered. “We've got company.”

The sound was turned off. Father and son kept their eyes glued to the game. “Have a seat,” their hostess offered.

“Where?” Renie asked, obviously unable to see anything except some of the wall behind the television set.

Becca looked flummoxed. “Oh, come into the kitchen. We don't want to interrupt the replay of a
pro
football game
.” She darted a sharp glance at Zach and Chad, but they didn't notice. Their eyes were still glued to the screen despite the fact that it was a commercial break for a digestive aid. Or maybe, Judith wondered, because they needed it. The kitchen reeked of garlic and onion.

After sitting at a table covered with a purple-and-gold paisley linen cloth, Becca asked if they'd care for some wine. The cousins declined.

“Zach called on us,” Judith said. “It's interesting to meet people our relatives have talked about. Have you lived here very long?”

“Three years,” Becca replied. “We bought this place ten years ago, but waited to move until our daughter was starting high school. Cece's a freshman at the University now, and Chad's a sophomore at Whoopee High.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Did you really find Ernie Glover's corpse? Wasn't that exciting?”

Judith was mildly nonplussed. “Not exactly. I'd describe it as . . . memorable.” Given her experience with corpses, it was the best word she could come up with. “Did you know Ernie well?”

“Ernie Well?” Becca looked puzzled. “Oh! You mean did I . . . sort of. He used to come by when his wife was entertaining her boyfriend. He didn't like getting in their way.”

“Gee,” Renie said, “couldn't he have gone into another room?”

“I suppose,” Becca replied, “but he wasn't used to having company. Edna doesn't like people. Except for her lover, of course.”

“Dare I ask,” Judith inquired, “who the lover was? I mean,
is
.”

“Of course you dare,” Becca asserted. “The problem is that I don't know his name. Ernie never told us. I didn't feel like prying. It didn't really matter as long as it wasn't Zach.” She glanced in the direction of the living room. “At least I don't think it could be Zach. Maybe I should ask him after the game is over.”

Judith felt as if her head was spinning, but she tried to refocus. “Did Ernie ever mention anyone he'd quarreled with?”

Becca propped her chin on her hands and looked thoughtful. “Yes,” she said after a long pause. “Frank Leonetti, for one. They got into it over Gina.”

Judith was surprised. “Frank's wife? Why?”

Becca looked at Judith as if her guest must be simpleminded. “Because Ernie was rumored to be having an affair with Gina. He couldn't keep dropping in on us and the other neighbors all the time. He had to find other interests. Besides, Frank still keeps his hand in.”

“In what?” Renie asked.

Becca scowled. “In his food. That is, his business with food. He still owns Leonetti and Sons, so he has to go into the city three or four times a month. Frank's the only son left. The two older brothers died in a house fire a few years ago.” She grimaced. “I wouldn't want to have found
their
bodies after they were all crispy. It's a good thing I missed that. I'll bet I'd have thrown up.”

“Speaking of that,” Renie said, sniffing the air, “what did you make for dinner?”

Becca shrugged. “One of those goulashy things Zach likes. His parents came from the old country.” She frowned. “Why are they called that? Aren't all those countries in Europe old?”

“Pretty much,” Renie murmured, twitching a bit in the chair.

Judith smiled at Becca. “It's because they've been established so much longer than our country,” she explained—and saw her hostess shrug. It was time to take their leave before Renie said or did something she might not regret, but Judith would. “We'll be on our way now,” she said, standing up. “Thanks for inviting us in. We enjoy meeting the Webers' neighbors.”

Becca remained seated. “The Webers? Oh—you mean Vance and the guy who always falls asleep? Yes, she's very funny. You'd think he'd stay awake just to listen to her. Vance always makes me laugh.” Her lovely face turned glum. “I don't get to do that around here very much.”

“No kidding,” Renie said, already almost out of the kitchen.

“I'm not kidding,” Becca replied seriously. “Do come again.”

When the cousins were back outside, they saw the fog rolling in, its dampness making the air feel even colder than before they'd stopped at the Bendarek house.

“Can we please go home?” Renie begged as they went up the road.

“Maybe we should,” Judith responded. “We might get lost if the fog really settles in. I felt kind of sorry for Becca. So far, it appears there aren't a lot of women in her peer group. She probably gets bored.”

“I gather she doesn't like football,” Renie remarked, waving a hand in front of her as if she could push the fog out of the way. “She could have an affair like everybody else up here seems to do.”

“
Seems
to do is the key,” Judith asserted. “It almost sounds like a hobby, if you believe half of what we hear. I suspect the real hobby is gossiping about affairs that don't exist. Are we here yet? I can only see about two feet in front of me.”

“Becca would ask you who the two feet belong to,” Renie said. “But I'm me, so I say we're five yards away from getting into the end zone.”

“You should have stayed with Zach and Chad to watch the repeat of last week's AFC play-off game.”

“I know who won,” Renie replied. “I saw it the first time. The Panthers beat the Bears. We're here.”

Judith turned to glare at Renie—and bumped into something that moved. She couldn't help herself. She screamed. A hand reached out to grab her. Judith screamed again.

H
ey,” Kent Logan said, steadying Judith, “I didn't mean to frighten you. Really. You were sitting by Suzie and me at the meeting. Are the Webers back yet? Nobody seems to be home.”

Judith tried to ignore Renie, who was laughing as she led the way up the steps. “Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince probably won't be back from Nebraska for several days,” Judith explained as she cautiously started up the stairs to the deck. “Her sister in Beatrice had shoulder surgery. We came up here mainly to cast their proxy vote at the meeting, but we're staying through the weekend.”

“Oh.” Kent didn't speak again until the lock was opened and the trio went inside. “I wanted Vance to notarize something for me. She's done it before.”

“I didn't know that,” Judith admitted, shrugging out of her car coat. “That is, it makes sense, since she retired as a legal secretary.”

“Right,” Kent said. “I don't suppose either of you is a notary?”

“Not even close,” Renie declared, before sinking onto the sofa. “We're retired hookers. Or maybe just tired, being kind of old to—”

“Stop!” Judith yelled. She looked at Kent. “Pay no attention to her. Renie has a bad habit of saying really stupid things that are
not
true.”

“And you don't?” Renie shot back, taking off her shoes.

Kent, however, was chuckling. “I can see that you're both related to Vance. She's got quite a mouth on her, too. Hey, I'm sorry to have bothered you.” He started to turn around, then stopped. “I just remembered—weren't you at the pub this afternoon?”

“We were,” Judith replied, noticing that Kent's left cheek looked faintly bruised. “That was quite a row. Do you need witnesses? We didn't see all of it, to be honest.”

“For a change,” Renie called from the sofa. “Come on, coz, offer Kent a drink like other people around here do. We
are
trying to fit in.”

“Okay,” Judith said. “Would you—”

But Kent put up a hand. “No, thanks, but I'll sit for a minute. It's kind of cozy in here.”

Judith gestured at the recliner. She shoved Renie a bit to make room on the sofa and posed a question for Kent. “Do you have Auntie Vance do other legal secretarial work for you?”

“Once in a while, when I don't have time to go into the city to my former law firm,” Kent replied. “My longtime secretary still works there, so I usually ask for her help. But Vance is very efficient. She likes to keep busy, too. Your aunt isn't the type to just sit and vegetate.”

“True,” Judith agreed. “That's what bothers me about some of the other people we've met so far. Or at least have heard about. They seem to be merely passing the time. Many of them aren't that old—at least from my point of view. Even the Johnsons have their hobbies.”