Hocus Croakus (21 page)

“Miss?” The balding man behind the window sounded a bit weary. “Miss?”

“Oh! Excuse me! I wanted to turn in my winning ticket.”

“Fine.” The man took the ticket, placed it in the machine, and began counting out Judith's money. And counting and counting. “There you are, miss. Fourteen hundred, ten dollars and thirty cents.”

Judith gaped at the bills before her. “No! That can't be! I only bet two dollars to show.”

The man cocked his head at Judith. “I don't mean to be impertinent, but that's not the case. I remember it well, because you seemed a little…rattled. Not to mention that you picked the horse with the longest odds. You said you wanted the number two horse in the third race for a six-dollar combo. Number two—ItsNobodyAtAll—went off at twenty-to-one odds.”

“B-b-but I only g-g-gave you t-t-two dollars!” Judith exclaimed. If she'd been rattled before, she was practically a gibbering idiot now.

The man smiled and shook his head. “You gave me two twenties.”

Judith clapped a hand to her head. “I don't believe it!”

“You better. It's true. I guess this is your lucky day.” He nudged the money toward Judith. “Do you want to place another bet?”

Frantically, Judith shook her head. “No! No, I mean, not now. Gosh, thanks!” With trembling hands, she scooped up the money and hurried off to tell Renie what had happened.

“You're lucky even when you're stupid,” Renie teased after Judith had finished her tale. “Write down that horse's name. When Bill and I go to the track at home, I like to bet on the out-of-town races.”

Picking up a hotel notepad, Judith scribbled the name of her winner. She still felt dazed. “I don't see how I could have gotten so mixed up. Or given the guy two twenties instead of two ones.”

“You probably had your mind on the murders,” Renie said. “Or you were people watching.”

“I was, at that,” Judith confessed. “I'd just seen Doc Engelman come into the betting parlor. He wouldn't tell me anything about Marta Ormond Flax except that she loves her dog.”

“I think we knew that,” Renie said dryly. “Speaking of mysteries, I'd like to know what I got on the back of my taffeta skirt.”

“The one you wore to the magic show Monday night?”

Renie nodded. “When I was getting dressed this morning, I was going through the closet to find these beige slacks behind the outfit I wore Monday night. The sunlight hit the skirt just so. The back of it looked odd, but with that bronze taffeta, the color changes with the light. But this didn't.”

“Is it more gold flecks?” Judith asked.

“Nothing like that,” Renie replied. “It's a big smudge just below the skirt band. It's crusty, too. In fact,” she went on with a worried expression, “it looks a lot like dried blood.”

T
HE
“I
NQUIRY
”
SIGN
was flashing on the tote board from Bay Meadows. Apparently a possible foul had been committed during the race. But the lights going on in Judith's brain were what kept her eyes riveted on Renie.

“You'll have to show the skirt to Joe,” Judith asserted. “Are you sure it could be blood?”

“As sure as I can be,” Renie said. “Dried blood looks like rust, so on bronze fabric, it's not so obvious. Which is why I didn't notice it before. I haven't worn the skirt since Monday night.”

Judith rested her chin on her hands. Vaguely, she recalled seeing the back of Renie's skirt when her cousin was leaning over the roulette table to place her bets. Judith didn't recall anything odd about the skirt, but maybe she wouldn't, given the color and fabric. Besides, she reminded herself, she had just discovered that Sally had been murdered. The shock might have dimmed her powers of observation. “How could it have happened?” Judith asked. “And when?”

Renie looked uncertain. “You're assuming it's Sally's blood?”

“Did you notice anyone else bleeding profusely?”

“No,” Renie replied. “But then I didn't notice Sally bleeding profusely, either. Besides, during the power outage, someone could have gotten hurt and brushed up against me.”

Judith's expression was droll. “Do you recall that happening?”

Renie made a face. “Of course not. I…” She stopped, raising a finger. “Wait. Do you remember when we were coming out of the rest room and groping our way through the dark? Somebody
did
bump into me.”

“You didn't feel dampish?” Judith inquired.

“No. The skirt has an underskirt. You know, in case I win a big jackpot and wet my pants. Ha, ha.”

“At our age, that's not so funny,” Judith remarked. Making sure her purse was securely shut, she stood up. “I'm going to put this money in the hotel safe. Why don't you come with me and then we'll get your skirt so we can turn it over to Joe.”

“Okay,” Renie agreed, tucking the futures list into a huge purse that—appropriately enough—resembled a horse's feed bag. “I haven't exactly been raking in the money today.”

Judith gave Renie a skeptical look. “In other words, you've exceeded your daily gambling allowance already?”

“Let's say that I've exceeded it through Friday,” Renie admitted as they went out onto the casino floor. “Of course, I pointed out to Bill that you can't win if you're not gambling.”

Dolly wasn't on duty at the cashier's window. Instead, an older woman with long silver hair stood behind the counter. Judith counted out the fourteen one-hundred-dollar bills. “I can't make up my mind
what to do with this cash. Maybe I should put it in the safe with my other things,” she said, feigning confusion. “Could you check to see what's in there now, please? It's under ‘Fromm.'”

The cashier, whose name was Ella, didn't look surprised. But Renie did. When Ella had gone to the back room, Renie moved closer to her cousin. “What are you trying to pull now?” she demanded.

“I forgot to tell you about the gold nuggets,” Judith whispered. “I don't know how I could have forgotten. Maybe, between homicide and home improvements, I have too much on my mind.”

Ella returned, looking worried. “There's no Mrs. Fromm listed, ma'am, only a Mr. Fromm. I'm going to have to see your ID.”

Judith slapped a hand to her head. “Of course! How stupid of me! Never mind.” She paused, turning very somber. “As long as the gold nuggets are there, it's fine. There was a mix-up earlier. You wouldn't mind taking a peek just so I don't have to worry about them.”

“They're there,” Ella replied, though her concerned expression remained. “I checked on them earlier for Mr. Fromm. Have you decided whether or not you want a cashier's check, Mrs. Fromm?”

“Yes,” Judith responded, yanking on Renie's sleeve, “but I'm making a gift of these winnings to my sister. Here, she can give you the information. The name is Jones, Serena Jones.”

Renie opened her mouth to protest, but Judith enfolded her in a bear hug. “You deserve it, darling! After all the money you raised to send me to Lourdes for my miraculous cure!” Under her breath, Judith added, “Do it and shut up.”

In a wooden manner, Renie went through the re
quired motions. When the cousins were a good thirty feet from the cashier's cage, Judith explained why the ruse was necessary.

“I took a chance,” she said as they strolled toward the elevators. “A mistake had obviously been made. What would be most likely? The boxes in the safe are filed alphabetically. So the gold nuggets in my box probably belonged to somebody else whose last name begins with
F. Ergo
, the man with the gold dust on his coat, G. D. Fromm.”

“You could be arrested for fraud,” Renie pointed out, poking the Up button for the elevator. “What if Ella is suspicious?”

“I'll deal with that when and if it happens,” Judith said, though she looked a bit grim. “The usual cashier is Dolly, and I think we may have bonded. She'll figure I just got mixed up.”

“Maybe I should keep the money in case I have to bail you out of jail,” Renie said as they got into the elevator.

“The important thing is, where did the nuggets come from?” Judith mused as they arrived at their floor. “Is it possible they were found on the family property?”

“I can't imagine,” Renie said. She stopped in front of their mothers' room. “Should we?”

“Isn't your mom at the conference?”

Renie shook her head. “This was to be a free afternoon. The conferees could do what they pleased—skiing, hiking, gambling, trying to kill their roommates.”

Judith sighed. “I suppose. We
are
dutiful daughters.”

She rapped on the door. There was no response. She rapped again. And again.

“I can't hear the TV,” Judith said, pressing her ear against the door. “Maybe they're taking a nap.”

“Maybe,” Renie allowed. “Have you got a key card to their room?”

“Yes,” Judith said, digging into her purse. “I had them give me an extra, just in case.”

The small green light turned on; Judith opened the door.

Gertrude was on the telephone; Aunt Deb was on a cell phone. Both seemed engrossed in their conversations.

“Goodness!” Judith breathed, standing in the doorway with Renie next to her. “My mother on the
phone?
”

“My mother on a
cell phone?
” Renie whispered.

“You bet your big bottom I want script approval,” Gertrude was saying. “Who knows what he might write about me? I thought you weren't sure if Dade Costello was still on the A-list after that dumb-cluck producer's big flop. You're my agent, Eugie, you work it out. Just send the money in a big armored truck and make sure the nitwits driving it have guns.”

“Yes,” Aunt Deb said, “I do know quite a bit about the timber industry. My late husband and my father worked in it…A slogan?…That's not exactly a
design
, is it, dear?…Well, I suppose I could. What comes to mind, of course, is that only God can make a tree. What if you said only God
and
Wirehoser can make a tree?…You like it?…Heavens, it was just off the top of my poor old addled head…”

Judith quietly closed the door. The cousins exchanged bemused looks in the corridor.

“Do you really think either of them can make a buck in their dotage?” Renie asked.

“More power to them, if they can,” Judith replied.

Renie opened the door to the Joneses's room.
“Ooops!” She put a finger to her lips. “Bill's taking a nap. Stay in the hall, I'll grab the skirt.”

It didn't take Renie a full minute to complete her task. “Now,” she inquired, “how do we find Joe?”

“Good question,” Judith responded. “We could page him, or go to Pancho's office where they all seem to sit around on their dead butts and not solve the case.”

“Try the page first,” Renie suggested. “You can do it from your room.”

The cousins moved back down the hall. Judith slipped the key card in and opened the door. To her surprise, Joe was also taking a nap.

“Oh, good grief!” she exclaimed, backing out of the room and shutting the door, though not so softly. “Joe never takes naps at home!”

“Oh?” Renie looked amused. “What do you bet he does when he's on a surveillance job?”

“Well…” Judith stroked her chin. “Maybe that's why he sometimes takes so long to finish an assignment. Of course he
does
get paid by the hour.”

A rumpled Joe Flynn in an even more rumpled blue bathrobe yanked the door open. “What now?” he asked in a groggy voice.

“Skirt,” Renie barked, shoving the garment at Joe. “Dried blood. Check it out. 'Bye.” She trotted off toward the elevators.

“Hey!” Joe called after her.

Renie didn't turn around. Judith put a hand on her husband's arm. “We didn't know you were asleep.”

Joe's expression was defensive. “I was resting my eyes. We took an hour's break.”

“That's fine,” Judith said, smiling in an understanding, wifely way. “Renie discovered there's dried blood on the skirt she wore the night that Sally
was murdered. We thought maybe the lab should check it out.”

Joe made a grumpy noise. “Sheriff Costello moves with the speed of old glue. We haven't gotten a damned thing back from him so far. It's no wonder we're bogged down in this investigation.”

Judith pointed to the skirt, which was draped over Joe's other arm. “It does look as if it could be blood. What do you think?”

Joe held up the skirt, which rustled softly as he turned it around to catch the light. “Oh. I see what she means. Hunh. It might be, at that.”

“Of course we won't know whose blood,” Judith noted, “except that it's not Renie's. Someone might have brushed up against her when we were in the rest room during the blackout.”

“Okay.” Joe folded the skirt over four times. “I don't have an evidence bag here. I'll put it in one of the hotel's laundry bags.”

“Thanks.” Judith wondered if she should tell Joe about the gold nuggets and the gold dust. Out of the corner of her eye, Judith could see Renie doing a graceless little dance by the elevators. It was a sign that her cousin was growing impatient. “Are we having dinner together?” Judith asked her husband as she retreated from the threshold and into the hallway.

“Sure,” Joe said. “Let's live it up and eat in the salmon house. I'll meet you here around six.” He started back into the room, but stopped. “How'd it go at the house this morning?”

“It went,” Judith replied. “I'll tell you later.”

“If,” Renie said when they were in the elevator, “I was a betting woman—which I am—I'd give you two
to-one odds that Joe never leaves the room until it's time for dinner.”

“I suppose he's tired,” Judith said. “He expected a vacation, not a job. The last few months have been hard on us both. By the way, Joe wants to eat in the salmon house tonight. Could you and Bill join us?”

“Sure,” Renie replied as the elevator came to a halt. “I'll wait tables and Bill can be one of the line cooks.”

Judith made a face at Renie. “It can't be that bad.”

“Well…Not quite. Sure, we'll—” As the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, Renie gave a start. “We're in the basement. Didn't you poke One?”

“No. I thought you did. One of us must have bumped B by accident.” Judith stepped out of the elevator. “Wait a minute—this is the underground parking area. Is there a P on the elevator panel?”

Renie was still in the car. “Yes, there are two—P/1 and P/2. We're on P/1.”

“As long as we're here…,” Judith began.

“Oh, no,” Renie protested, “we're not going to search parked cars. Come on, coz, let's go back up.”

Judith had to admit that there was no reason to look around the garage. “You're right,” she said, starting back into the elevator. “I don't know what I was thinking of.”

She had just stepped inside when shouts erupted.

“Rats!” Renie said under her breath. “What's that?”

Both cousins exited the elevator. Listening intently, they could make out the raised voices of a man and a woman. It sounded as if they were engaged in a fierce argument.

“It's coming from over there,” Judith finally said, pointing to their left. “Dare we?”

“Offhand,” Renie replied dryly, “I say we don't. Getting mixed up in other people's quarrels is definitely a bad idea.”

“Define ‘getting mixed up,'” Judith said softly. She began to move quietly in the direction of the argument.

“Damn!” Renie swore under her breath. “I won't let you go alone, you reckless fool!”

Judith and Renie ducked behind the cars as they approached the source of the noise. The concrete pillars were numbered with red paint. The cousins had advanced to 1 D. The loud voices seemed to be in the vicinity of 1 H.

By the time they reached 1 F, Judith not only could identify the combatants, but she could catch most of the heated exchange.

“You're slime!” Inga Polson shouted. “I want you out of here! I never want to see you again!”

“Listen, you old bat,” G. D. Fromm roared, “if it weren't for me, that halfwit brother of yours would be doing card tricks on senior citizen bus tours!”

With Renie behind her, Judith reached 1 G and stopped, leaning against a steel-gray SUV. The cousins were separated from Inga and G.D. by only two rows of vehicles. They couldn't see either of the adversaries, but every word was loud and clear.

“You're nothing but a leech!” Inga cried. “You chased us down in Reno and practically begged us to let you manage Freddy! You were broke, your wife had thrown you out, you were practically living in a cardboard box! When I seize an opportunity to advance my brother's career, you don't argue, you go along—or you go, period.” Inga paused for breath. “Now look at this other mess you've got me into!”