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    Suture Self : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery

    Page 29
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      announcement,” Judith said. “Help me get into the

      wheelchair. I want to hear this.”

      It was a bit of a struggle, but the cousins managed it.

      Judith, who was becoming accustomed to the wheelchair’s vagaries, was able to propel herself into the

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      Mary Daheim

      doorway, where she sat with Renie standing next to

      her. At least thirty people had filled the corridor. Sister

      Jacqueline was one of them, and she didn’t look happy.

      While the reporters and cameramen positioned

      themselves, Dr. Van Boeck and Dr. Garnett appeared,

      coming from different directions. Judith noted that Dr.

      Van Boeck didn’t look much the worse for his collapse

      the previous day, though both physicians seemed grim.

      At last, the elevator doors opened and the star of the

      show made her entrance. Blanche Van Boeck had shed

      her furs, revealing what Renie whispered was a gray

      Armani suit. Knee-high boots and a black turban completed the ensemble. “Big bucks,” Renie noted as

      Blanche passed by on her way to the alcove down the

      hall.

      Judith gestured at the empty doorway across the

      hall. “No Mr. Mummy,” she murmured. “Where do

      you suppose he is?”

      Renie shrugged as Sister Jacqueline found herself

      being pushed back in the cousins’ direction.

      “Excuse me,” the nun apologized, bumping into Judith’s wheelchair. “This is quite a mob. I wish Mrs.

      Van Boeck hadn’t chosen this place for her announcement.”

      “It does seem like an odd venue,” Judith remarked.

      “Does she have a reason?”

      “Does she need a reason?” Sister Jacqueline retorted, then gave herself a little shake. “Sorry. That was

      unkind, especially given that Mrs. Van Boeck has always been such a big supporter of Good Cheer. The

      truth is, the auditorium is being painted. The workers

      just got started Monday, and then weren’t able to come

      back after it began snowing. And it’s too cold and

      draughty to hold the press conference in the foyer.”

      SUTURE SELF

      275

      “Not to mention,” Renie put in, “that I suspect

      Blanche enjoys the cozy atmosphere of a more intimate setting.”

      “A more neutral setting as well,” Sister Jacqueline

      said, then again looked rueful. “The foyer, the auditorium, so many other places in the hospital feature religious symbols. If Mrs. Van Boeck is going to run for

      mayor, she has to appeal to a broad range of voters, the

      majority of whom aren’t Catholic.”

      “So she’s going to announce her candidacy today,

      right?” Renie whispered as, down in the alcove, Blanche

      raised her hands for silence.

      Sister Jacqueline shot Renie a swift, puzzled glance.

      “I’m not certain. Maybe she’ll do that later, downtown.”

      Judith gave the nun a puzzled look, but there was no

      opportunity for further questions. Blanche was beginning to speak, her strong, sharp voice carrying easily

      without a microphone.

      “I’ll keep my remarks brief,” Blanche said, her expression somber. “I appreciate your efforts in coming

      out in this winter weather. I know it wasn’t easy getting here.” She paused, her gaze resting on her husband, who stood a little apart from the rest of the

      crowd. “As of February first of this year, Good Cheer

      Hospital will be taken over by Restoration Heartware

      of Cleveland, Ohio.”

      A gasp went up from the crowd in the hallway.

      Hardened journalists they might be, but Blanche’s

      statement wasn’t what they’d expected. Judith gasped

      right along with them, then turned to Sister Jacqueline.

      “Did you know this was coming?” she asked of the

      nun.

      “Yes.” Sister Jacqueline kept staring straight ahead,

      in Blanche’s direction.

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      Mary Daheim

      “This,” Blanche continued, “is a very difficult time

      for those of us who have been associated with Good

      Cheer. We are all very grateful to the sisters who

      founded this hospital almost a century ago. Their dedication to physical, emotional, and spiritual health has

      been unparalleled in this region. Fortunately, the order

      still has hospitals in other cities, and will continue to

      administer Good Cheer’s retirement and nursing

      homes.”

      Blanche drew in a deep breath. “This is a sad day for

      us, but we are not without hope. The state of medicine in

      this country is pitiful, and universal health care has been

      only a dream for the past fifty-odd years. It’s time to stop

      talking about it, and act. Therefore, I intend to run for

      Congress in the upcoming election. Health care will be

      the issue—my only issue. Thank you very much.”

      Blanche stepped down amid more gasps from her

      audience. She moved quickly through the crowd to her

      husband’s side. A few yards away, Dr. Garnett glared

      at the couple. Sister Jacqueline had bowed her head

      and appeared to be praying.

      “Well.” Renie was fingering her chin and observing

      the reporters who were pressing in on the Van Boecks.

      Dr. Garnett had turned away and was coming down the

      hall toward the cousins. He stopped when he spotted

      Sister Jacqueline.

      “Courage,” he said, touching the nun’s arm. “You

      know that you and the other sisters share no blame in

      this disaster.” He nodded in the direction of the Van

      Boecks, who were trying to escape the media. “If there

      are villains other than governmental ineptitude, there

      they are.”

      Sister Jacqueline gave Dr. Garnett a bleak look.

      “What’s the use of blame? It’s over.”

      SUTURE SELF

      277

      Dr. Garnett said nothing. He merely patted Sister

      Jacqueline’s hand, offered her a small, tight smile, and

      walked away.

      “Courage?” the nun echoed bitterly. “What good is

      courage? You can’t fight the Devil when you can’t see

      him.”

      As Sister Jacqueline started to turn away, Judith

      called her name. “My condolences,” she said. “There

      are many of us in the community who will be sorry to

      see the Order of Good Cheer relinquish the hospital.”

      “Thank you,” Sister Jacqueline replied, her voice

      devoid of life.

      “A question,” Judith went on. “A very minor question. Do you know who brought Bob Randall the balloons and cutout of him in his playing days?”

      “No,” the nun replied without interest. “Sister Julia

      at the front desk would know. She was on duty Monday night. Why do you ask?”

      An embarrassed expression flitted across Judith’s

      face. “Oh—ah, my cousin thought she recognized him

      as one of her children’s old high school chums. How

      do I get in touch with Sister Julia?”

      “You don’t,” Sister Jacqueline replied. “She started

      making a private retreat in the convent Tuesday morning. Sister can’t be reached until Sunday afternoon. It’s

      a shame, since I wish I could tell her that not all of her

      prayers were answered.” Shoulders slumped, the nun

      left the
    cousins and headed for the stairwell.

      As the Van Boecks disappeared around the corner at

      the far end of the hall, Renie reversed Judith’s wheelchair and pushed her cousin back into their room. “Did

      Sister Julia volunteer for the retreat or did somebody

      give her an order—excuse the pun.”

      “I think your imagination may be running away with

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      Mary Daheim

      you,” Judith said. “I’m sure the retreat was Sister

      Julia’s idea, but her isolation is inconvenient. And what

      did Sister Jacqueline mean by fighting the Devil?”

      “Restoration Heartware?” Renie suggested as

      Corinne Appleby came into the room. “Or a certain individual?”

      “Time for your shower,” Corinne announced with

      forced cheer. “Good, you’re ready to go,” she added,

      indicating the wheelchair. “Shall we?”

      Judith had no choice. Renie volunteered to go along

      and take her own shower. As they reentered the hall,

      the journalists were dispersing. Snatches of conversation could be heard as they passed down the hall

      toward the elevators.

      “. . . Funny stuff going on around here . . .” “. . . Hey,

      I intend to keep my job . . .” “Congress, huh? Why not,

      she’s no bigger windbag than they already . . .”

      At the rear of the group, Judith spotted Mavis LeanBrodie. She was standing outside Addison Kirby’s

      room. “Kirby!” Judith heard Mavis exclaim as the

      KINE-TV anchorwoman saw the newspaper reporter’s

      name posted by the door. Mavis galloped across the

      threshold and disappeared.

      “What’s going on?” Judith heard Mavis demand as

      Corinne pushed the wheelchair down the hall. “Are

      you a prisoner in this place or what?”

      Judith hit the brake, catching Corinne off balance.

      The nurse almost fell over the top of the wheelchair.

      “Sorry,” Judith apologized, looking shamefaced.

      “Could we back up a bit?”

      “What for?” Corinne asked, catching her breath.

      “I just saw an old friend,” Judith said with a lame little smile. “I wanted to say hello.”

      “If your friend has come to visit, whoever it is will

      SUTURE SELF

      279

      wait,” Corinne declared. “I have to keep to a schedule.

      I don’t want to lose my job when this Cleveland bunch

      takes over. I have a mother to support, remember?”

      Judith felt the wheelchair move forward at what

      seemed to be headlong speed. Unfortunately, Renie

      was up ahead. If she had seen Mavis, she hadn’t bothered to stop. But Renie and Mavis didn’t always get

      along. Maybe, Judith thought, her cousin had chosen

      to ignore the TV anchorwoman.

      Once they reached the shower area, Corinne struck

      a more amiable attitude. “I’m sorry if I was rude,” she

      said as she helped Judith take off her hospital gown,

      “but this has been a very difficult day, what with this

      takeover and all. Plus, we’ve had some problems with

      the showers the last couple of days. Curly, our maintenance man, thinks one or two of the pipes may have

      frozen. In fact, the shower area has been off-limits

      until just a little while ago.”

      “That’s fine,” Judith murmured. “It’s just that I’m so

      worried about my husband, and when I saw Mavis . . .

      my old friend . . . I thought she might be able to help

      me find out what’s going on.”

      “There’s nothing to fret about,” Corinne said glibly as

      she turned on the taps and helped Judith into the shower.

      “I’ll stand right outside. If you need help, just call.”

      Judith regarded the steady stream of water with

      trepidation. “Are you sure this waterproof cover on the

      dressing will keep my wound dry?”

      Corinne nodded. “That’s why it’s there. Just don’t

      do anything to dislodge it.”

      “Where’s my cousin?” Judith asked, looking around

      at the other stalls as if she were searching for a lifeline.

      A stream of curses exploded out of a shower stall

      across the aisle, answering Judith’s question.

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      Mary Daheim

      “My cousin hates showers,” Judith explained to a

      startled Corinne. “She never can manage the taps.”

      “She manages quite well with her mouth,” Corinne

      noted with disapproval.

      “Uh . . . yes,” Judith replied, maneuvering her way

      under the showerhead. Though she was unsteady, the

      rush of warm water felt wonderful. For a brief time,

      she submitted her body to a sense of total cleansing,

      as if her anxieties were flowing right down the drain.

      Confidence as well as strength seemed to grow

      within her. She vaguely heard Corinne say something about having to step outside for a moment.

      Then Judith found the shampoo and began to wash

      her hair.

      “I’m done,” Renie announced grimly. “Are you

      okay?”

      Judith peeked around the curtain. “Yes, I’m almost

      finished.”

      Renie finished putting on her gown and robe. “I’ll

      get Corinne to help you come out.”

      Judith rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, then fumbled with the taps. She wasn’t quite sure which way to

      turn them, but eventually figured it out before scalding

      herself. She shook herself as vigorously as possible,

      then reached for the towel that Corinne had left on a

      peg just outside the stall. Judith was awkwardly drying

      off when she heard a noise nearby.

      “Coz?” she called, wielding the towel. “Coz?”

      Renie didn’t answer. Nor was there any response

      from Corinne. Puzzled, Judith rubbed at her wet hair,

      then wiped away the moisture that had gotten into her

      eyes. When she finished, she blinked several times to

      bring her vision into focus.

      Then she screamed.

      SUTURE SELF

      281

      A man’s hand appeared from the other side of the

      shower curtain and was reaching out to grab her.

      As strong masculine fingers wrapped around her

      wrist, Judith screamed again.

      EIGHTEEN

      “MOM! WHAT’S WRONG?”

      Judith’s mouth hung open as she gaped at her son.

      “Mike?” she gasped, squeaking out his name as if

      she were more mouse than mother.

      “Didn’t you hear me call to you from outside?”

      Mike asked, gallantly trying to avoid peering into

      the shower stall.

      “Ah . . . No.” Judith swallowed hard, then did her

      best to wind the towel around her body. “The water

      was running.”

      “Hang on to me,” Mike said, looking sheepish.

      “I’ll help you out. Gee, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

      Judith gingerly stepped out of the stall. Her

      knees wobbled and she had to lean against her

      son. “Give me a minute to collect myself. This is

      the first time I’ve been able to take a—” She

      stopped, her heart suddenly in her mouth as she

      realized what Mike’s arrival could portend.

      “Joe . . .” she said with difficulty. “Is he . . . ?”

      “He’s doing okay,�
    � Mike said. “I talked to him a

      few minutes ago.”

      “Oh!” Relief swept over Judith. “You’re sure? He

      really seemed to be on the mend?”

      Before Mike could answer, Renie reappeared. “I

      SUTURE SELF

      283

      see you got your mother out in one piece,” Renie said.

      “It’s a good thing—Corinne was called off to help

      some post-op patient.”

      Judith stared at her cousin. “You knew Mike was

      here?”

      Renie nodded. “I met him when I went to get

      Corinne. Aren’t you tickled to see him?”

      Judith started to laugh, a gust of relieved tension that

      verged on hysteria. Renie put an arm around her

      cousin. “Take it easy, I’ll help you get dressed. Then

      we can talk.”

      Ten minutes later, Judith was back in their room,

      where she gratefully let Mike help her get settled.

      “Now,” she said, finding the least painful position in

      the bed, “tell me about Joe and how you got here.”

      “I saw the story on the news,” Mike explained after

      pulling Renie’s visitor’s chair over by Judith’s bed so

      that both he and his aunt could sit down. “The snow

      had stopped up at the summit around midnight, and the

      highway crew started clearing the pass not long afterward. I’d called the hospital to ask about Joe, but they

      wouldn’t tell me anything, even when I tried to get

      tough with them. What really bugged me was that they

      wouldn’t put me through to you. They said it was too

      late. I guess it was, maybe twelve-thirty.”

      “I can understand why they don’t want to disturb patients that late,” Judith said, “but I’m sorry I didn’t get

      to talk to you.”

      Mike shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not talking to

      you made up my mind—as soon as the roads were

      clear, I headed for the city. I’ve got four-wheel drive,

      chains, everything except skis on my forest service vehicle. When I arrived at the hospital, they wouldn’t let

      me come up to the third floor. No visitors, they said at

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      Mary Daheim

      the front desk, because of some dumb press conference. So,” Mike continued, lifting his hands, “I went to

      the fourth floor, to see how the other Flynn was doing.”

      Judith smiled fondly at her son. “I’m so glad. I

      haven’t seen Joe since they brought him in here. It’s

      been terrible. How did he look?”

      Mike laughed ruefully. “Like hell. And bitching like

     


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