Read Online The Wurst Is Yet to Come by Mary Daheim - Free Book Online Page B

pages to go. Do you know who Bill James rates as the greatest second baseman of all time?”
    â€œNo,” Judith admitted, switching off her light. “Who?”
    â€œJoe Morgan,” Renie replied. “He gets my vote, too.”
    â€œLucky Joe. G’night.”
    A couple of minutes later, Renie shut her book, turned off the other lamp, and settled down. Judith had closed her eyes, trying to erase the image of Dietrich Wessler on the ballroom floor. She’d almost succeeded when a chomping noise disturbed her.
    â€œDamnit,” Judith said, lifting her head, “are you chewing gum?”
    â€œYou know I chew Big Red before I go to sleep,” Renie replied.
    â€œI’d forgotten,” Judith said. “Can you stop?”
    â€œNot until I’ve had at least four sticks.”
    â€œHow does Bill stand it?”
    â€œHe wears earplugs,” Renie said, smacking and snapping away.
    â€œWhy did you ever start that?”
    â€œI like Big Red,” her cousin replied. “It’s soothing, and only a problem if it gets on me when I go to sleep while I’m still chewing.”
    â€œIt’s disgusting,” Judith declared. “Please try to chew quietly .”
    â€œCan’t,” Renie said. “I’ve got big teeth. All the better to chew with. Done with Stick Number One.”
    â€œOh, God!” Judith wailed into the pillow.
    â€œHey—if God hadn’t wanted me to chew gum in bed, he wouldn’t have—”
    â€œStop! At least shut up.”
    â€œOkay.”
    But the chomping continued, sounding like Clydesdale horses slogging down a muddy road. Judith pulled the covers over her ears in an effort to lessen the irritating noise. After almost five minutes, Renie apparently finished the final stick and rolled over onto her side. Judith expelled a big sigh, but was wide-awake. Trying to get into a drowsy state, she chose to think of something pleasant—like Renie lying in the parking lot under an enormous wad of Big Red gum.
    W hen the alarm went off the next morning, it was Renie’s turn to gripe. By the time Judith emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, her cousin had gone back to sleep. Breakfast was served beginning at seven-forty-five. Judith stopped at the front desk to ask the young man called Hans how to get to the dining room. He informed her it was through the hall at the other end of the desk. The cuckoo clock on the far wall sounded the quarter hour as Judith moved on.
    A half-dozen guests had already gathered around the table that was set for twelve. Judith nodded pleasantly, if vaguely, before going to the trestle table by the wall, where she selected a bran muffin, fresh fruit, and a sausage patty. After pouring a cup of coffee, she wondered how Renie would react to the meager offerings, compared to the more lavish breakfasts Judith provided at Hillside Manor. Thankful she wouldn’t be around to find out, Judith sought a place at the main table. The only person she recognized was Constance Beaulieu, who was sitting next to a thin-faced man with a handlebar mustache. A swift glance revealed that they were wearing matching wedding rings.
    â€œGood morning, Connie,” Judith said pleasantly, sitting down next to the man she assumed was Mr. Beaulieu.
    â€œOh, Judith!” Connie gasped, a hand at her breast. “Isn’t it just awful about Mr. Wessler? Did you see all that blood? I almost fainted!”
    Judith nodded. “Just enough so that we—my cousin and I—left. Does anybody know what happened?”
    The supposed Mr. Beaulieu laughed hoarsely. “If anybody does, they aren’t telling us.”
    â€œOh,” Connie said, her hand moving to the man’s arm. “This is my better half, George.” She beamed at him. “I told you about Judith Flynn, darling. Now you can see for yourself.”
    See what? Judith thought and couldn’t help but frown when