Creeps Suzette (7 page)

“That bad, huh?” Renie remarked. “Are you saying that Wayne wants to dip into your stepmother's capital to rescue the company?”

“Ask Wayne,” Peggy responded. “I honestly don't know. One thing he has done is cut back his own salary along with some of the other top executives. I might add that's not been a popular move.”

“Do either your son or daughter work?” Judith inquired as Kenyon entered the room to pour more coffee.

Peggy shook her head. “Not really. Caroline fancies herself a poet, and Kenny is active in animal rights.” She paused to put a hand over her cup. “No more for me, Kenyon. I've got to get going.” Peggy stood up. “It's nice to see some new faces around here. I'll probably drop by tomorrow.” With a smile, she started from the room, telling Kenyon there was no need to see her out. “After sixty years, more or less, I know my way around. G'night all.”

“Human,” Renie remarked after both Peggy and the butler were out of earshot. “She's almost like a real person.”

“Marrying a golf pro might do that to you,” Judith said, sipping her coffee. “I gather Mrs. Burgess doesn't really approve of the match.”

“I don't think she thought much of Peggy's first two husbands,” Renie said.

“Being divorced and then widowed while raising two kids can't be easy even if you're rich,” Judith said. “I had enough trouble raising one.”

Renie nodded. “And you were not rich. Didn't Mrs. Burgess say that Peggy's first husband was killed in a car wreck? Even after all those years apart, that must have been rough. He was the father of her children.”

“True,” Judith agreed, then grew silent. “What now? Have we seen the last of our hostess for the evening?”

“Who knows?” Renie stood up. “Let's go into the library. I should call Bill. And Mom. By the time I'm through with her, it'll be bedtime.”

The cousins proceeded to the library. Typically, Renie's conversation with her husband lasted less than two minutes. Like Gertrude, Bill abhorred the telephone.

“He's fine,” Renie announced. “All three kids are gone for the evening, and Clarence likes his new bed jacket.”

“Clarence,” Judith said, narrowing her eyes at Renie, “is a rabbit. Rabbits don't wear bed jackets.”

“No? We would have gotten him a smoking jacket, but Clarence doesn't smoke.” Renie handed the receiver to Ju
dith. “Here, call Joe. I have to fortify myself before I call Mom. I wonder if there's any brandy in here?”

As she dialed the number at Hillside Manor, Judith ignored Renie's rummaging around the bookcases and in the desk and various cupboards. Joe was unusually excited to hear his wife's voice.

“It seems like you've been gone for days,” he said. “You're okay? It's a nice house? How's the food?”

After assuring Joe that all was well, Judith asked how things were going at the B&B.

“Smooth,” Joe replied. “The guests are all squared away, and Carl and Arlene are out in the toolshed playing three-handed pinochle with your mother. When will you be home?”

Judith hemmed and hawed a bit. “Honestly,” she concluded, “we're not sure. But it won't be long. Renie has to get started on some projects.”

“Good, good. Look, Jude-girl, if you're lonesome I could drive out there tomorrow and we could have breakfast someplace close by. How about it?”

Judith winced. “I really don't think that's a good idea, Joe. Mrs. Burgess expects us to stick around. Besides,” she went on, wincing some more, “I understand she often takes a bad turn in the mornings.”

“Oh.” The disappointment was palpable in Joe's voice. “Okay. Wednesday, maybe. Or you might be home by then. Call me first thing tomorrow morning.”

After giving assurances of various kinds, including her undying love, Judith hung up just as Renie knocked several books off of a shelf.

“Oww” she cried, doing a little dance. “This big brown one landed on my foot.”

“Why,” Judith demanded, “are you hauling books out of the bookcase? Do you think that's where the brandy is hidden, you idiot?”

Renie gave Judith a sheepish look. “No, of course not. But the glass door to this shelf wasn't quite closed and these blasted books weren't shoved all the way…Hey,
look. There's a safe back here, behind the books.”

Judith peered over Renie's shoulder. “You're right.” She nudged Renie out of the way to take a closer look. “What's this?” she asked, pointing to something red and sticky on the door of the small safe.

“What? I can't see. I've only got one eye, remember?”

Judith hesitated before touching the crimson blob. “Dare I?” she asked Renie.

“Dare you what?” Renie's brown eyes widened. “Oh, no! You're not going to test your safecracking skills, are you?”

“No. I don't want to open the safe.” She took a deep breath and slowly reached inside the shelf. “I'm not crazy about touching this red stuff because from here, it looks a lot like blood.”

“Y
OU CAN'T SEE
so well yourself,” Renie chided as Judith stood by the bookcase with a smear of strawberry pie on her index finger.

“Hunh,” Judith muttered. “Whodunit?”

“Who cares?” Renie said. “Besides us, Mrs. Burgess and Peggy may have had strawberry pie for dessert. Ada Dietz made it. Maybe she or some of the other servants had a slice. What difference does it make? They all might have had some reason to get into the safe.”

“Not the servants,” Judith said, then added, “unless they were requested to do so.”

“I don't see that it matters,” Renie insisted. “Hand me the phone. I still have to call Mom.”

While Renie talked to Aunt Deb, Judith studied the safe, wiped off the rest of the strawberry residue with a tissue, and put the books back in place. She could have read one of them in the time it took for Renie to finish the phone call:

“Yes, Mom, my eye is okay…No, I don't need to go back to the doctor…Yes, I remember when your former boss, Ewart Gladstone Whiffel, had Bell's palsy…No, I didn't remember that his depth perception was so bad he fell down an elevator shaft…Yes, it's a very big old house…No, I'm not in a draft…Yes, I'll
leave a light on so I can find the bathroom…No, Mom, a flashlight isn't necessary. I was four years old when I had that accident because I couldn't find the toilet…Yes, Judith is fine, too…No, she didn't have to have Aunt Gertrude pried away from her with a crowbar…Yes, I know Aunt Gertrude can be unreasonable…No, I had no idea she put her dentures inside Alice O'Reilly's croissant at the last bridge club meeting…Yes, I'm sorry Alice passed out under the card table, but she does scare easily…No, I hadn't heard about your girdle stay popping out and stabbing you in the chin…”

Renie had made at least ten complete tours of the library before she finally got her mother off the line. Wordlessly, she handed the receiver to Judith and collapsed into one of the wingback chairs.

Gertrude answered on the seventh ring. “What do you want?” she rasped.

“Just checking to see if you're okay, Mother,” Judith said.

“I'm okay. So what?”

“So I just wanted to wish you—”

“Ha!” Gertrude interrupted, though she wasn't speaking into the phone. “Trumped your trick, Mr. R. You're set by two. You thought I was out.”

“—good night,” Judith finished.

“What?”

“I said,” Judith began, keeping a grip on her patience, “that I—”

“Hang on. Arlene just dealt a new hand. I'm in.”

Judith waited.

“Two hundred,” Gertrude said. “Two-twenty. Two-forty. Two-sixty. You surrender, Arlene? Let's see that kitty.”

“Good-bye, Mother,” Judith said wearily.

Gertrude's only response was, “Two aces in the kitty. Now I've got a hundred aces and a spread in clubs. Read 'em and weep.”

“She's fine,” Judith said, hanging up. “Shall we wander a bit?”

“You mean inside, I trust,” Renie replied. “It's dark outside.”

“Of course. Let's see how many other oppressive, over-decorated rooms we can find on this floor.”

The cousins didn't get very far. They'd reached the entry hall when they saw a man coming from the direction of the main staircase. He was dressed in a dark suit and wore rimless glasses.

“Wayne?” Renie said out of the side of her mouth.

“Could be.” Judith held her ground as the balding man with the slight paunch approached, looking out of sorts.

“Excuse me,” he said, “I'm at a disadvantage. Are you…?” A vague expression crossed his unremarkable features.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Judith and Renie introduced themselves.

“Beverly's friends,” Wayne Burgess murmured. “I hope she hasn't inconvenienced you. My half-sister sometimes gets a wild hare.”

“Then your mother's fears don't trouble you?” Judith asked.

Wayne gazed up at the gesso ceiling. “No. You see,” he continued in a very somber tone, “sooner or later, the mind begins to go. Loved ones don't want to see that happen, so they ignore it or pretend there's another cause. But I've been aware for the past two years that
Maman
has slipped.” He offered the cousins a bland smile. “I'm afraid you're wasting your time here.”

Neither Judith nor Renie felt they could argue with Wayne Burgess. “If that's the case,” Judith said slowly, “then shouldn't someone be with her all the time? You know, to make sure she's not setting fires or drinking Drano?”

“I don't think we've reached that point,” Wayne responded, smoothing what was left of his hair, which was such a rich brown that Judith suspected he dyed it. “Accidents do happen. And they always seem to come in bunches. Haven't you noticed that?”

Judith allowed that she had. Her own mother had practically set herself on fire the previous Friday. “Did you just see her now?” Judith inquired. “How was she?”

“She seemed…fine.” The slight twitch at Wayne's mouth indicated otherwise. “She'll be down shortly, after her program is over. Oh,” he added, turning around, “here she is now.”

“Did you stop for another piece of pie?” Mrs. Burgess asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I thought you'd already left. You really should have stayed to see how the inspector solved the case. Most ingenious.”

Wayne regarded his stepmother with amusement. “I'm sure it was very clever,” he said, then clapped a hand to his head. “I left my raincoat in your room. I'd better get it. The wind's come up and it may rain by morning.” He patted Mrs. Burgess's shoulder and went back to the main staircase.

“Wayne has a sweet tooth,” Leota Burgess explained. “He shouldn't indulge it so much or he'll get fat. Come, let's go into the parlor. We'll have Kenyon bring after-dinner drinks. I prefer waiting for the food to digest before I have what actually constitutes a nightcap.”

The parlor in the north tower was much smaller than the drawing room, but just as cluttered. Every chair, sofa, and settee was piled with silk and satin and velvet pillows. The potted plants, of which there were many, crowded the curved room. And there was yet more bric-a-brac, fashioned from gold, silver, crystal, and ivory.

Kenyon tottered in to take the drink orders. After he departed, Mrs. Burgess sat back on the dark blue settee and shook her head. “Wayne knows better than to interrupt me when I'm watching my programs. It's very distracting, and not the proper time to discuss serious matters. I almost missed the second killing.”

The cousins commiserated until Kenyon returned with a snifter of brandy for his mistress and Drambuie for each of the guests. Breathing in the fumes from her glass, Judith finally brought up the question she'd been meaning to ask.

“A name keeps popping up,” Judith said after taking a sweet, golden sip. “Suzette. Who is she?”

Mrs. Burgess's gnarled fingers tightened on the brandy snifter. She drew back against the settee, then visibly relaxed. “Suzette. Now there's a name from out of the past. I believe she was a servant here, long before I married Walter. Why on earth do you ask?”

Judith felt slightly embarrassed. “Her name came up a few times today, and everyone acted sort of strange. I was just curious.”

“No need,” Mrs. Burgess said calmly. “I certainly never knew Suzette. Do put her out of your mind and concentrate on the present.”

The door flew open and a young man with red hair and a pizza box charged into the room. “Pizza delivery!” he cried. “Double cheese, Canadian bacon, pineapple, and mushrooms! Hot from the oven where we been shovin'!”

“Oh, Bayless,” Mrs. Burgess said in an exasperated tone. “You know better than to do that. And you know I don't eat pizza.”

“But
Grandmaman
,” the young man called Bayless protested, “the staff can eat it.” He glanced at Judith and Renie. “Or your guests. I miscounted the orders on the last delivery, and I can't take it back to the shop. It'll be all cold and gruesome.”

“That's the second time in a week you've miscounted,” Mrs. Burgess said testily. “Really, Bayless, you must pay more attention. How do you expect to turn a profit when you're so slipshod?”

The freckles on the young man's face merged with his blush. “I'm sorry,” he said, hanging his head. “Don't get mad at me. I'm doing my best. Really.”

Mrs. Burgess permitted herself an indulgent smile. “I know you are, but you—” She stopped, apparently realizing that family matters should not be discussed in front of guests. “Bayless, this is Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Flynn. They're friends of your Aunt Beverly's.”

“Hi,” Bayless said, coming back to life and giving the
cousins a lopsided grin. “Call me Bop.
Grandmaman
is the only one who can call me Bayless.”

Taking in the red and white pizza delivery costume, Judith grinned back. “Your place is right out on the highway, isn't it? I saw it coming here this morning.”

“Right,” Bayless, now Bop, replied, his green eyes dancing. “It's a good location, but there's plenty of competition. Here,” he said, holding out the box. “Try some. It's really good.”

Judith and Renie each selected a piece. “It
is
good,” Renie said, licking her lips. “Wonderful cheese. I like that. It doesn't taste processed.”

“It isn't,” Bop said proudly. “I use only real stuff. That Canadian bacon is first-rate. Can you tell the difference?”

“Yes,” Judith said, “I can. It's thicker and richer. Thank you…Bop.”

“Got to run,” Bop said, blowing a kiss at his grandmother. “See you soon.”

Mrs. Burgess shook her head after Bop left. “Such a sweet boy, really. But no business sense, no awareness of balancing books, no thought of economy. I'd always hoped that both he and Kenneth would go to work for the timber company, but neither of them has. It's very discouraging.”

Briefly, the three women chatted about The Young and their frequent lack of focus. They were just finishing their drinks when Kenyon arrived, announcing, “Mr. Kenneth.”

“Kenneth?” Mrs. Burgess's forehead creased. “Oh, dear. What does
he
want? And why doesn't he come in?”

Kenyon cleared his throat. “I believe he's having what he would call an anxiety attack. He seems quite upset, if I may say so.”

Mrs. Burgess let out a heavy sigh. “Very well. Send him in. I suppose he wants to stay the night. Again.”

Kenneth Ward staggered into the parlor, groping the walls for support. Kenyon was right—the young man was very agitated and his lanky body jiggled like Jell-O.

“It's horrible!” he cried. “I can't believe it!” Kenneth collapsed next to his grandmother on the sofa.

“For heavens' sakes, do calm down,” Mrs. Burgess ordered, though not unkindly. “Please compose yourself. Meet your Aunt Beverly's friends, Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Flynn. And do look me in the eye.”

Kenneth looked younger than what Judith had calculated, putting him at thirty or so. His long fair hair, pale blue eyes, and indistinct features added to his youthful appearance. Awkwardly, he nodded at the cousins, then turned back to his grandmother. “I can barely talk, it's so awful.”

Apparently, Kenneth's ravaged face finally made an impression on Mrs. Burgess. “What is it?” she demanded, looking alarmed.

“I saw a fox,” Kenneth blurted.

His grandmother seemed to relax. “Where?” she asked, then turned to the cousins. “We have quite a bit of wildlife around here, you know.”

“Not in the woods,” Kenneth responded with a jerky shake of his head. “On Mrs. Benson.”

“Mrs. Benson?” Leota Burgess echoed. “From The Pines? Are you referring to her apparel?”

Kenneth nodded. “More than one fox, I swear. It was a very long coat. I drove by The Pines just now. I almost went off the road. Mrs. Benson was going somewhere with Mr. Benson.”

“The opera, perhaps.” Mrs. Burgess smoothed Kenneth's disheveled hair. “Now don't be upset. The foxes were already dead before Mrs. Benson put them on. Really, you can't get distressed every time you see someone wearing fur.”

“But I do!” Kenneth wailed. “It's such a horrible thing, killing animals to show off. I want to create that sanctuary, to make them all safe.”

“Now, now,” Mrs. Burgess said. “We're not getting into that tonight.”

Kenneth looked up into his grandmother's face. “You haven't done anything, have you?”

“Stop,” Mrs. Burgess commanded as she put a finger to Kenneth's lips. “We're not going to talk about it now. Did
you come here because you wanted to stay or are you going back to your apartment in town?”

Kenneth shook his head again. “I can't go back now. I'm too upset. Is it all right if I stay in my old tower room?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Burgess said, patting Kenneth's arm. “You always do. Now take a nice warm bath and calm down. If you need me, you know where to find me. My next detective program comes on at ten.”

“Thank you,
Grandmaman
,” Kenneth said, rising with some difficulty and then bending down to kiss his grandmother's hand. “You promise not to do anything?”

“Don't you fret,” Mrs. Burgess said. “We've got plenty of time to make decisions.”

“Gee,” Renie said after Kenneth had left the parlor, “is it always this chaotic around here? I was thinking that Creepers must be a very quiet house.”

“It can be,” Mrs. Burgess allowed. “But in many ways, we live in and out of each other's pockets. As you may have noted, we're a close-knit family. I suppose you could say we Burgesses have a special bond.”

Called money
, Judith thought, and immediately chastised herself for being unkind.