Bedeviled Eggs

by Laura Childs

  “Oh that,” said Petra, reaching down to pull it out. “Just something I was working on for Baxter.” She held up a dog sweater with stegosaurus spikes running down the back. “I call it a dogosaurus sweater.”

  “Oh my gosh, it’s absolutely adorable!” exclaimed Suzanne. “Baxter’s going to love it!”

  “Course now that you have a second dog, I’ll have to knit one for him, too.”

  “You, my dear, are beyond thoughtful,” said Suzanne, giving Petra a hug.

  Toni was back a few minutes later armed with more sandwiches. “Joey’s here and making fabulous progress,” she told them. “Our boy is up to his elbows in soapsuds.”

  “Wonderful,” said Petra, snuggling back into her chair.

  “When he’s finished in the kitchen, I told him to gather up all the decorations, too,” said Toni. She took a bite of

  sandwich, rolled her eyes in appreciation, then added, “Most of the stuff will work for the Halloween party on Sunday, but we’re still gonna need a load of pumpkins.”

  “For cooking and carving,” agreed Petra. “And I was thinking of hollowing out some tiny pumpkins to use as soup bowls.”

  “Cute,” said Toni.

  Suzanne let loose a sigh. “We’ll have to have Junior call in his pumpkin patch marker, after all.”

  “When would you want to do a pumpkin run?” Toni asked.

  Suzanne thought for a minute. “Maybe ... tomorrow night?”

  “Friday’s date night,” protested Toni.

  “My date is Saturday night,” said Suzanne, somewhat self-consciously.

  “Then Friday night it is,” said Toni.

  “Your resolve crumbled awfully fast,” Suzanne joked. “You sure you don’t want to flip a coin?”

  Toni gave a shrug. “Nah, the only date I have this Friday is with Brad Pitt. And he’s easy. I can pick him up anytime ... at the video store.”

  “Good one,” said Petra. “Usually you two are...” She stopped, frowned, cocked her head to one side, said, “What’s that?”

  “If Joey broke another dish...” Toni threatened.

  Suzanne shook her head. “No, something else.” She’d heard a noise, too.

  ‘Town siren,” said Petra. They sat like statues, listening to the rising wail.

  “That’s it,” said Suzanne, as the insistent noise continued to build.

  “Wonder what disaster’s about to befall us now?” asked Toni.

  “Maybe a fire,” said Petra. “Or...” This time she was roused to her feet by the sudden, intense clanging of the church bells next door. “What on earth!”

  “It’s the tintinnabulation of the bells!” Suzanne exclaimed, borrowing a phrase from Poe.

  “The what?” Toni asked, confused.

  “It’s something bad!” said Petra. “I just know it! The siren’s still wailing and now the church bells are ringing like crazy!”

  A sudden pounding on the front door lent to the wild cacophony!

  “Say what?” Toni screamed. But Suzanne had already leapt to her feet and was through the doorway that was draped with hand-knit shawls, hastening across the cafe.

  “Wait for us!” yelled Petra.

  Suzanne fumbled with the latch, then pulled open the front door. She was expecting to find Sheriff Doogie, warning them of some imminent firestorm or bizarre accident. Instead she got Reverend Yoder, from next door’s Journey’s End Church. Tall and thin, clad in black jacket and slacks, he looked like a vision of the grim reaper. Except his kindly gray eyes and gentle demeanor belied that.

  “There’s been a breakout!” Reverend Yoder gasped.

  Suzanne hesitated a split second, trying to wrap her mind around this. “You mean at the prison?”

  Reverend Yoder bobbed his head, looking grim.

  A chill touched Suzanne’s heart. It was everyone’s worst nightmare finally come to pass. The Jasper Creek Prison, that most of the town had opposed, held hundreds of dangerous inmates. And now some were on the loose!

  Then Suzanne’s eyes widened and she suddenly focused on Reverend Yoder. Swaying unsteadily on his feet, he let loose a raspy moan, then lifted a thin, trembling hand and held it to his heart.

  Petra, barefoot but with her chef’s hat balanced atop her head, caught up to Suzanne and said, “He doesn’t look so good,” just as Joey came flying out of the kitchen.

  “Oh man!” exclaimed Joey, putting both hands on top of his head and looking scared. “Is he okay?”

  “Help me,” said Suzanne. She wrapped an arm around Reverend Yoder, while Petra got on the other side. Together, they led him, stumbling badly, to a chair.

  “I... you ladies need to...” Reverend Yoder muttered, almost feverishly. Then he seemed to forget where he was.

  “I’ll get a glass of water,” Toni volunteered.

  Reverend Yoder’s brows knit in pain as he pressed both hands flat against his chest.

  “It’s his heart,” said Suzanne.

  “Look at his skin tone, he’s positively ashen,” exclaimed Petra. “This is not good, not good at all!”

  Suzanne knelt down, pulled up the man’s sleeve, and placed two fingers on his pulse. It was weak and thready.

  Reverend Yoder’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Reverend Yoder,” said Suzanne. “Can you hear me?” No response. “Reverend, I think you’re having a heart attack.”

  His eyes closed, but he managed to nod his head.

  “Is he gonna die?” wailed Joey.

  “Ambulance,” Suzanne snapped to Toni. “Call 911. Reverend Yoder has to get to an emergency room immediately!” She knew the EMTs could administer lifesaving oxygen and chest compressions on the way to the hospital.

  Toni sprang for the counter and grabbed the phone. She punched in numbers, then waited. A few seconds later, she screamed, “Doggone! Nobody’s picking up!”

  ‘Try again!” Suzanne ordered.

  “Nobody’s answering because of the prison breakout!” said Petra, her eyes wide with fear.

  “No answer!” Toni screamed. “It’s like we’re completely cut off!”

  “The circuits must be overloaded,” said Suzanne. “Everybody calling at once, everybody in a blind panic.”

  “Then we have to take the reverend to the hospital,” said Petra. “No sense waiting for an ambulance that might never come!”

  Grabbing her keys off the back counter, Toni said, “I’ll back up my car. It’s the fastest and most comfortable.”

  “Joey,” said Suzanne, “get Petra’s clogs from the Knitting Nest, then come help us.”

  Minutes later, the three of them managed to half walk, half carry Reverend Yoder out the door and over to Toni’s car. Though her fenders and wheel wells were rimmed with rust and the chassis was edging into beater territory, the engine was tuned to perfection, thanks to the fine hand of Junior Garret.

  “Get him in the backseat!” said Toni.

  Suzanne and Petra slid Reverend Yoder into the backseat. Though his eyes fluttered open occasionally, his respiration seemed to have gotten worse.

  “Everybody in!” screamed Toni.

  Petra slid in next to Reverend Yoder, while Suzanne jumped in to ride shotgun.

  “What about me?” yelled Joey.

  “You lock up!” Suzanne yelled back. “In fact, the smart thing to do is just stay put!” She turned to Toni, said, “Go.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Jamming the gas pedal to the floor, Toni fishtailed out of the parking lot, tires spinning and spitting gravel like crazy. When she hit paved road, she laid a few yards of rubber, then launched like a rocket

  “Easy, easy,” cautioned Suzanne. “Ease it down to mach one. Don’t get us all killed!”

  “I know what I’m doing,” said Toni, pushing her ride even faster. “I started drag racing when I was fourteen.”

  “You can’t get a license until you’re sixteen,” Suzanne chided.

  “Who said I had a license?” Toni replied, managing to come to a qu
ick halt at a stop sign, right before a delivery truck whizzed through the intersection. Then she sped up again and spun her car into a tight turn, bumping down River Road.

  “Not many cars on the road,” said Suzanne, her eyes casting about. Her voice was tense and terse.

  “We’re not that far from the prison,” said Petra. “Maybe everybody’s hunkered in, worried to death.”

  “You think Doogie is out there rounding up escapees?” Toni asked, grinding gears and hunching over her steering wheel.

  “I fervently hope so,” said Suzanne. “And just in case somebody lunges out at us, don’t be polite and stop, okay?”

  “No stops, no problem,” agreed Toni. She peered into the rearview mirror. “How’s he doing?” she asked Petra.

  “Sleeping, I think,” said Petra.

  “Or comatose,” Suzanne murmured, “from lack of oxygen.”

  “Oh dear,” fretted Petra.

  “You think he’s always had a bum ticker?” asked Toni.

  Suzanne ignored Toni’s remark. “Okay, the hospital’s just ahead on your right. Go easy on the corner.”

  “I got it, I got it,” said Toni, slaloming into the turn and tap-tap-tapping her brakes.

  “Now up that ramp,” Suzanne coached.

  Toni bounced up the ramp that led to the ER entrance and rocked to a stop. The three women exhaled collectively, then clambered out. Suzanne immediately dashed into the hospital to get help.

  Fifteen seconds later, an orderly and a nurse rushed out, pushing a gurney, white sheets fluttering like mad. Reverend Yoder was loaded on and carted inside. The three women, in classic anticlimax mode, headed slowly for the waiting room.

  “What are his chances?” asked Petra.

  Toni shrugged. “Dunno.”

  “I have an ominous feeling,” said Petra.

  “Don’t,” said Suzanne. “We’ve had too many deaths already.”

  They sat there for another three or four minutes. Finally, Toni pulled out an emery board and proceeded to tune up her nails. Petra picked up a magazine.

  “What are you reading?” Suzanne asked. She was so nervous, she could barely sit still.

  Petra glanced sideways at her. “One of those magazines aimed at mature women.”

  “Menopause and You,” snorted Toni.

  “Oh yeah,” said Suzanne. “I see they got Diane Keaton’s picture on the cover, wearing a turtleneck.” Suzanne sat for a few more seconds, then stood up so fast her knees made little popping sounds. “I can’t stand this anymore. I’m going to go see how he is.”

  “Do you think we should call someone?” Petra asked, closing her magazine.

  “What do you mean?” asked Toni. “Like a wife?”

  “He wasn’t married,” said Petra.

  “Well, we know he doesn’t have any kids” said Toni.

  “Maybe ... a church elder?” asked Petra.

  Toni snapped her fingers and pointed at her. “Great idea. You do that while Suzanne and I scope things out.”

  But when they got to the ER bay, they were met with some resistance.

  “You can’t go in there,” a hospital security officer informed them. He was early twenties, pudgy, with a fringe of dank blond hair that fell into his eyes.

  “But we were just in there,” Toni argued.

  The guard shook his head. “Sorry. I’ve got my orders.”

  “Hey,” said Toni, “we’re the good guys, the cavalry coming to the rescue. We brought Reverend Yoder in.”

  “We just want to check on his status,” said Suzanne.

  “No admittance,” the guard said, this time with more force.

  “Give me a break,” said Toni. “You think we look like dangerous escaped prisoners?”

  The guard glared at her. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what convicts look like?” asked Toni. “Sheesh.”

  “I got my orders,” said the guard. “The hospital’s worried that escaped prisoners might come here looking for drugs.”

  “Or they might stop at Hoobly’s looking for a date,” Toni snapped.

  “Suzanne!” called a male voice. It was Sam. Sam Hazelet. And he was striding down the hall, waving at them.

  “Thank goodness,” said Toni. “Someone who’s really in charge.”

  Suzanne and Toni slipped by the guard, who still seemed to regard them with suspicion. “ “I heard you brought him in,” said Sam. “Good work.”

  “How’s he doing?” asked Suzanne.

  “Not so good,” said Sam. “But not so bad, either.”

  Toni peered at him. “So which is it? Maybe yes or maybe no?”

  “Is he going to die?’ Suzanne asked, cutting to the chase.

  “Probably not,” said Sam. “You got him here pretty fast, and now he’s on thrombolytic drugs and we’re considering percutaneous coronary intervention.”

  “Translation please?” said Toni.

  “He’ll probably make it, but he’s sustained serious damage,” said Sam.

  “Can we see him?” Suzanne asked.

  “Not right now,” said Sam. “We’re still running tests, looking at serum cardiac biomarkers and various things.” When he saw her disappointment, he said, “You know what? You guys did good. You brought him here, and now we’re going to take great care of him. So, please, go home and lock yourselves in. Tell your guard dogs to stay alert and keep the phone nearby. I’ll call in a couple of hours and give you a complete update. Okay?”

  Suzanne nodded. “Okay.”

  “Everet,” Sam called to the guard, “will you escort these ladies to their car?”

  “We have to get Petra first,” said Suzanne.

  “Get Petra and then have Everet walk you out,” said Sam. “And, for gosh sakes, be careful driving out there. We don’t want you getting carjacked!”

  “Are you up for a glass of wine?” Suzanne asked Toni. They’d dropped Petra at her house, then waited as she scurried in, locked the door, and gave them the high sign. Then Suzanne had driven Toni back to her house where they were going to spend the night together. Safety in numbers, or so the saying went.

  Toni leaned back in the chair and placed her hands behind her head. “You’re not talking Three Buck Chuck, are you?’

  Suzanne’s mouth twitched at the corner. “After the day we’ve had, I think we deserve a lot better. I have a nice bottle of Petite Syrah you might enjoy.”

  “Let’s do it,” Toni enthused.

  “And some food,” suggested Suzanne.

  “Now you’re talking,” said Toni, as she followed Suzanne into the kitchen, followed by Baxter and then Scruff.

  Suzanne grabbed the wine from her wine cooler, popped the cork, and took two Riedel glasses from the cupboard. She poured out two fingers of wine in each glass and handed one to Toni.

  Toni swirled the red wine in her glass, then said, “We need a toast.”

  “Okay.” Suzanne raised her glass tentatively. “Got a suggestion?”

  “Better days?”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Suzanne took a small sip, allowing the wine to slide across her tongue. Excellent. Lush and rich with a hint of oak. “Now for the food. Besides chocolate, what would tickle your tummy tonight? Something light or something heavy?”

  “Definitely heavy,” said Toni. “I can always diet tomorrow.”

  “You don’t need to diet at all,” Suzanne chided. “You need to put on a few pounds.”

  “You think?” said Toni.

  “What’s your waist size?”

  Toni frowned. “Maybe twenty-five?”

  “And your weight?”

  Toni shrugged. “Hundred? Hundred and three?”

  “See?” said Suzanne. “You got maybe a BMI of eighteen.”

  “Huh?”

  “You have the same body mass index as an underfed gerbil.”

  “That’s good, huh?”

  “Are you kidding? That’s great.”

  Toni took another sip of wine, then her grin
slowly slipped from her face. “Reverend Yoder was skinny and he had a heart attack.”

  “You make a good point,” said Suzanne, who was already heating water and had just grabbed a package of

  pasta. “So maybe we shouldn’t have fettuccine Alfredo after all?”

  Toni grimaced. “But I love your Alfredo!”

  “Okay,” said Suzanne, “but I’ll use half-and-half instead of heavy cream.”

  “Gotta compromise somewhere,” agreed Toni.

  Just as Suzanne was scraping up the last bits of Alfredo sauce in her bowl, the phone rang.

  “Sam,” said Toni, who was sprawled out on the living room floor, snarling the last of her supper and dangling cream-coated noodles to both dogs.

  Turns out, Toni was right. It was Sam.

  “So how are you doing?” he asked. “Locked in all nice and tight?”

  “Hopefully,” said Suzanne. “So what’s going on out there? You hear any news?”

  “Just that it was four prisoners who broke out,” said Sam, “not an entire cell block, like first reported. Apparently, they stowed away in a delivery van.”

  “Good security they’ve got out there.”

  “And resourceful prisoners,” said Sam.

  “How’s Reverend Yoder doing?”

  “Better,” said Sam. “Much better, thanks in part to your quick action.”

  “We did what we had to,” said Suzanne. “And Toni will be delighted. She practically qualified for the Indy 500.”

  “There’s an entire contingent from the reverend’s’ church that’s here right now,” said Sam. “Praying for him.” He paused. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  “I definitely concur, Doctor. And how are you doing?” ‘Tired,” he said. “Heading home in another ten minutes.” “One heck of a crazy day,” said Suzanne. “That it was,” breathed Sam. “Okay, Suzanne. Take care, love ya.” And then he was gone.

  Suzanne stood there, gaping at the phone. Had Sam realized what he’d just said to her? Love ya? A tingle rippled through her, then she forced herself to calm down. People said “love ya” all the time to family and friends. On the other hand, love was a really, really good word, right? Sure it was.