Read Online This Old Souse by Mary Daheim - Free Book Online Page A

off the truck. “We had a heart attack victim on the other side of the hill. The medics should be here any minute. What’s going on?”
    Once again, Judith offered an explanation. She recognized two of the firefighters. They recognized her. After checking the body, one of them shook his head. “Man, how do you do it, Mrs. Flynn? Do you find them or do they find you?”
    Judith was spared an answer by the arrival of the medics. She also recognized one of them, a woman who had shown up at Hillside Manor when the movie producer had been killed two years earlier. It was no wonder that Jason and Colleen were staring at her. Judith figured that they must feel as if they were at some kind of macabre homicide reunion.
    â€œYou’ve done this before?” Colleen whispered in awe.
    Judith nodded.
    â€œWe haven’t,” Jason said. “This is our first. No wonder you’re so calm.”
    â€œI’m not, really,” Judith protested. “If you could see my insides, they’d look like boiling pasta. But Ido know the drill. My husband’s a retired police detective.”
    â€œWow,” said Jason.
    â€œGolly,” said Colleen.
    â€œDrat,” said Judith.
    As she’d predicted, an unmarked city car entered the parking lot, where minor chaos was erupting as customers tried to leave and newcomers were waved off. Phil reappeared, looking distressed.
    â€œHow long will this take?” he asked one of the firefighters.
    â€œAn hour, maybe two,” the young man replied. He explained to Phil that the car would be towed after the detectives and the crime-scene experts checked it out. Photographs would have to be taken. Shoulders slumping, Phil went back inside.
    â€œWe can give you a ride home when they’re finished here,” Jason offered.
    â€œThanks,” Judith said, “but I really have to leave before then. Maybe they’ll let me go as soon as I answer some questions. By the way, I want to get my belongings out of the car. I hope that’s not a problem.”
    If only, Judith thought, Woodrow Price, Joe’s former partner, or one of the other detectives she knew would show up. But Woody and his wife, Sondra, were vacationing in Quebec. As the doors to the unmarked police car opened, she didn’t recognize either of the men who got out. One was tall and slender, forty or so, neatly dressed and moving with precision. The other was a little older, but short, pudgy, and his shoes didn’t match.
    They brushed past Judith and went straight to theSubaru. “What have we got here?” the taller man inquired in a brisk manner.
    â€œDeceased male, forties, Dairyland logo on back of jacket,” one of the medics replied. “I think he’s been dead for less than an hour, Glenn.”
    â€œWe’ll let the ME decide that,” Glenn snapped. He turned to his partner. “Camera ready?”
    The other detective grunted a reply before producing the camera from under his rumpled raincoat. “Where the hell are the regular photographers?” he groused. “They get vacation—I don’t, not until August.”
    Glenn beckoned the patrol officers. “Who found the body?” he inquired.
    Jason pointed to Judith. “She did, sir.”
    Glenn’s cold gray eyes rested on Judith. “What’s your name?”
    â€œJudith Flynn,” she said.
    â€œAddress?” He turned to his partner, who was clicking off pictures at a rapid rate. “Get out your notebook, Trash.”
    â€œHold your water,” the man called Trash shot back. “I’m doing all the work. As usual.” Clicking off a few more pictures, he unfolded the camera strap and slung it over his left shoulder. “Okay, okay, let’s do it. What did you say your name was, lady?”
    Judith had taken her wallet out of her purse. “Here,” she said, pointing to her driver’s license. “See for