The Wurst Is Yet to Come

by Mary Daheim

  Renie studied what was probably a family motto. “No. Liebe Winter Nicht. Something to do with love and winter, maybe.”

  “Hunh.” Judith looked into the adjoining dining room, but saw nothing of interest. “Drat. This visit hasn’t been all that helpful.”

  “You expected items marked ‘clue’?”

  “I was expecting something,” Judith replied, going outside and grasping the handrail. “I suppose we should return Suzie’s car.”

  “That means we’ll have to walk back to our inn,” Renie said over her shoulder. “Why can’t we see if Barry can collect it for us?”

  “We don’t know where Barry is,” Judith replied, reaching the level ground. “He may be tending bar. Besides, that’d be an imposition. Suzie probably wonders where we’ve been all afternoon.”

  “She probably hasn’t had time to notice the car’s still gone.”

  “We should return it now anyway,” Judith said, pausing at the Ford Escort’s passenger door. “Maybe you should drop that deer off by the Forest Service booth first.”

  “Oh.” Renie peered into the backseat. “Damn. It’s still there. I hoped it had run away.”

  There seemed to be a late-afternoon, early-evening lull in the Oktoberfest action. It took less than two minutes to reach the exhibitors’ area. Renie had some difficulty dislodging the stuffed deer from the car, but declined Judith’s offer of help.

  “If I can wrestle our tall and stalwart children to a buffet, I can handle this,” she asserted. “Stay put.”

  Gazing at the Forest Service booth, Judith wondered if Mike had heard anything about his next assignment. Deciding to check in with Joe, she got out her cell and tapped in her home phone number.

  “Hey,” Joe said, “I thought you ran off with some Bavarian stud.”

  “Not my type,” Judith said, smiling at the sound of his voice. “We’ve been busy.” She paused, watching Renie dump the stuffed deer in front of a forest ranger. “It’s a fascinating town.” She paused again, seeing the tall, uniformed man point first at the deer and then at Renie.

  “Staying out of trouble, I assume?” Joe said.

  “Oh,” Judith responded, wincing as Renie stood with fists on hips and feet planted apart, “of course.” Apparently, either the city media hadn’t carried the story about Wessler’s murder or else Joe hadn’t been keeping close track of the news. “How’s everything at home?”

  “Fine,” Joe replied. “Your dreaded mother’s helping Arlene make the guests’ appetizers.”

  “She is? She’s never so much as offered to do that for me,” Judith said while Renie and the ranger went toe-to-toe in a shouting match. “Where’s Carl?”

  “He and I raked leaves in both our yards this afternoon,” Joe said. “He’s home, taking a nap. I think I’ll do the same before dinner. Arlene’s making lasagna.”

  “Nice,” Judith remarked, cringing as Renie backed up and swung her purse at the ranger. Luckily, she missed. “No further harassment from Ingrid Heffelman?”

  “Uh—no.”

  Renie was stomping back to the car. The ranger stood his ground but Judith could hear him yelling what sounded like very unpleasant words. Judith, however, tried to focus on her husband. “You seem uncertain about Ingrid.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” Joe said, his voice strained. “She dropped by this noon to give me a copy of her inspection. I mean, give you a copy.”

  She flinched as Renie bolted into the driver’s seat and slammed the car door. “Did she stay long?” Judith asked Joe.

  “No, she was in a hurry. What’s going on? Who’s cussing?”

  “Renie,” Judith said as her cousin revved the engine, hit the gas—and almost sideswiped the ranger who had followed her to the curb. “I’d better hang up now. Oh—have you heard from Mike?”

  “Not yet,” Joe said.

  “I wish . . .” She dropped the phone as Renie roared off down the street toward the Pancake Schloss. “Damnit! What did you do now?”

  “That stupid ranger accused me of kidnapping his ugly stuffed deer! Like I’d want a stuffed animal sitting around the house? I’ve already got Bill. I mean, Oscar. Well, Oscar isn’t really—”

  “Oscar isn’t real and would you please shut up? I can’t bend down to pick up my cell. I don’t think I disconnected Joe.”

  “It disconnects itself,” Renie said, veering around a slow-moving truck. “At least that’s what one of my kids told me.”

  “Be careful! We almost ran into that oncoming SUV.”

  “Almost doesn’t count,” Renie muttered, careening into the parking lot. “I told Ranger Ruggiero I’d report him to . . . somebody.”

  “Ruggiero?” Judith gasped. “Are you kidding?”

  Renie slowed down as she headed to the rear of the pancake house. “No. So what?”

  “He’s the guy who’s in charge of Mike’s transfer. You didn’t mention my name, did you?”

  “No. Why would I?” Renie pulled into the place where Suzie had parked the car earlier in the day. “What if I had? Mike goes by McMonigle, not Flynn.”

  “I’ve got to talk to him,” Judith said. “Did he see me in the car?”

  “How do I know? He probably didn’t. He was too busy harassing me about the stupid deer.”

  “Can you reach my cell?” Judith asked, undoing her seat belt.

  “You’re going to call Ranger Rude?”

  “No, of course not, but I need—”

  “You need a lot of things,” Renie griped, leaning over to grab the cell. “You’re lucky I don’t dislocate my other shoulder.” She handed over the slim black phone. “You need a little sympathy for me.”

  “Coz . . . skip it. You give Suzie the car keys while I walk back to the Forest Service booth. We have to go in that direction anyway. When you see me talking to Ruggiero, pretend you don’t know me and keep going.”

  “Hey—I’ll walk on the other side of the street,” Renie said, getting out of the car. “You want me to ask Suzie about the vineyard?”

  “You probably can’t. It’s the dinner hour. The lot’s almost full.”

  The cousins parted company. Judith took her time traversing the block and a half to the exhibit area. She was shivering by the time she reached the Forest Service booth. Not only had it gotten colder, but she could smell snow in the air.

  The stuffed deer was leaning against the side of the booth. Apparently Renie must have broken one of its legs. Ruggiero was easy to spot, being the tallest of the three rangers on duty. She approached him just as he finished talking to a couple of men in hunting gear.

  “Hi,” she said, forcing her warmest smile. “I don’t think we’ve met, but I know you.” She extended her hand.

  Ruggiero peered at her with shrewd gray eyes. “How is that?” he inquired, shaking hands with a firm but brief grip.

  “I’m Mike McMonigle’s mother,” Judith said. “I’ve been here in Little Bavaria with the innkeeping group since Thursday, so I’ve been out of touch with Mike.” She decided not to use subterfuge. “Do you know where his next posting is?”

  “Yes.”

  Judith felt her heart start to beat a bit faster. “Where is it?”

  “I can’t say. It’s not official.”

  “But . . .” Judith was flummoxed by the ranger’s stern expression. “How soon will we—will he know?”

  “He knows now,” Ruggiero replied. “But he can’t tell anyone until it’s official. That’s how it works with the U.S. government.”

  She started to say something, realized it would be futile, and clamped her mouth shut. Ruggiero started to turn away, but Judith couldn’t let him get off the hook so easily. “Why isn’t the U.S. government doing something about the murders around here?”

  The ranger swung around to face her. “What are you talking about? That old geezer who
got knifed in the bar brawl the other night?”

  So that was how the murder’s being played, Judith thought. “Yes.” She gulped. “I was there. It was awful.”

  “Look,” Ruggiero said as if he were talking to a third grader, “this Oktoberfest thing is basically an excuse for tourists to get drunk and go nuts. So far it hasn’t been too bad. The people here have a pretty good grip on how to run this kind of show. But you wouldn’t believe what I’ve heard from other parts of the country where they hold these shindigs. Talk about the Italians and the French getting sloshed at their celebrations—the Germans do a damned good job of it, too. If I were you, I’d keep clear of these people. They can be dangerous.”

  “I suppose so,” Judith said meekly. She shivered again, and this time it wasn’t only from the cold night air.

  Judith and Renie didn’t meet up until the last few yards before reaching the entrance to Hanover Haus. “I thought you’d been busted by that ranger as my accomplice,” Renie said, panting a bit. “I practically ran the last two blocks to make sure you were okay.”

  “I am,” Judith said, “sort of. Let’s talk after we get to the room.”

  While changing clothes, Judith related her frustrating—and disturbing—encounter with Ranger Ruggiero. “The most interesting part was how Wessler’s murder is being played to the public. I suppose that’s why Joe doesn’t seem to know anything about it.”

  “Be relieved,” Renie advised, taking an orange cowl-neck sweater out of her suitcase. “So Ingrid showed up again? Is she stalking Joe?”

  “I’m beginning to wonder. Is she just trying to annoy me or is she really hot for him?”

  “Never having met her, I can’t tell you much,” Renie said, slipping the sweater over her head. “I spoke briefly to Suzie about the vineyard. She had Barry waiting tables before tending bar at tonight’s party.”

  Judith was applying makeup in front of the bureau’s oval mirror. “What did she say?”

  Renie had almost finished putting her mascara on. “Suze said the plan was on hold. I got the impression she’d like to leave it that way.”

  “Did she seem annoyed by the inquiry?”

  “Why would I annoy her?” Renie scowled at Judith. The mascara wand slipped and fell on the floor. “Damn! See what you made me do?” She snatched up the wand and stared in the mirror. “Now I look like Raccoon Renie. I’ll have to start over.”

  “Sorry. I only meant the question itself, not you. I mean, the two of you did get into it the other night . . .”

  Renie had gone into the bathroom to remove the errant mascara marks. “Suze and I are as one,” she called out, having left the door open. “The only problem was she got distracted when Franz Wessler came in.”

  “Franz?” Judith’s hand bobbed, sending her lipstick into her left nostril. “Now you’ve done it!” She got up and joined Renie in the bathroom. “Hurry up. We’re going to be late.”

  “Ha ha. You look funny.”

  “Mop yourself up so . . .” Judith froze. “What’s that?” she breathed.

  Renie stepped away from the sink. “What’s what?”

  “Shhh. It sounded like someone out on the balcony.”

  “So?”

  “I saw a shadow outside, as if someone was looking into our room.”

  “Watching us turn ourselves into clowns? Aren’t there better things to do during Oktoberfest?”

  Judith held up a hand, signaling for Renie to be quiet. “Listen.” But the only sound they heard was a hunting horn off in the distance.

  Renie stalked out of the bathroom, marched to the window, and shouted, “If you got the money, honey, we got the time!”

  “Coz!” Judith hissed, coming out of the bathroom. “Stop that!”

  Renie ignored the advice, opening the balcony door and looking out. “Nothing to see here, as the cops would say, but it’s snowing.”

  Judith finished wiping off the lipstick smear before joining her cousin. “Fresh footprints, but no tread on the soles. That’s odd.”

  Renie shrugged. “It just started snowing. Was someone listening the whole time before the snow started?”

  Judith took one last look before closing the door. “Maybe. Fairly big footprints. That’s kind of scary. At least I didn’t imagine it.”

  “No,” Renie agreed. “Man or woman?”

  “I can’t tell. The prints will be obliterated in a few minutes. I’d guess whoever it was must be fairly tall. The eavesdropper must not be staying here. A guest could listen at the other door. Unless it was a ruse to make us think that.”

  “Maybe it was your run-of-the-mill window peeper,” Renie said. “Every community has at least one of those.”

  “You don’t believe that,” Judith said, making another attempt at putting on her lipstick, but discovering her hand was unsteady. “Okay, we can’t dwell on it. How distracted was Suze by Franz’s arrival?”

  Renie waited to answer until she’d finished reapplying her mascara. “I wouldn’t call it ‘agog,’ but she seemed definitely interested in his arrival. Usually, she’s unflappable on the job.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if she was in the car the other night with Franz. I don’t recall seeing her after you two parted company at the town hall.”

  “You think Suze and Franz really got together? Not a bad idea. I mean, for them.”

  “Suze certainly had gone to some trouble to look like . . . maybe not Ava Gardner-esque, but not like Pancake Suzie either.”

  “Could be a strategic move,” Renie said, pulling on her glossy brown leather boots. “Something to do with the vineyard?”

  “Maybe.” Judith sat down on the bed. “Can you help me with my boots? I’m too tired to bend that far.”

  “Sure,” Renie said. “What would you do without me?”

  Judith smiled. “Well . . . I can never accuse you of being dull.”

  “Thanks.” Renie put on the first of Judith’s low-heeled snow boots. “I never think of not being dull.” She tugged on Judith’s other boot. “It’s a lot better than thinking of being dead.”

  “Right,” Judith agreed, standing up. “Why do I have the feeling that’s what we have to worry about?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The snow fell in feathery flakes, indicating that the temperature wasn’t far below freezing. The wind had subsided, apparently coming off the mountains and blowing east. Judith envisioned a white world of orchards and farms in that part of the state.

  “Winter wheat,” she said aloud, walking along the next block past more shops and cafés.

  “What?” Renie asked. “Are you obsessed with crops now?”

  “I need a reminder that most people’s lives are ordinary, ordained by the seasons. How many other people do you know who are afraid that someone may be lurking around the corner waiting to kill them?”

  “Plenty, if I count the shoppers at Falstaff’s Grocery when I drive into the parking lot.”

  Judith shot Renie an irked glance. “You know what I mean.”

  “Just enjoy the snow.” Renie gestured at a group of young people who were trying to make snowballs in the middle of the street. “Look, they’re probably so gassed they don’t know the snow is too wet for weaponry. They’ll have to wait a while to pelt each other.”

  Judith shrugged. “They’re having fun. How far is this place?”

  “How would I know? It can’t be too far. We’re past the bandstand and that other inn. The town virtually ends in another block or two.”

  They trudged on for another half a block before seeing a sign and an arrow pointing toward the river. “There it is. The Valhalla Inn,” Judith said. “I can see the roof. There better be stairs.”

  There were zigzagging stone steps already almost clear of snow from the arrival of earlier guests. Judith held on to the handrail and took her time. From what she
could tell through the thick snow that was now falling, the inn looked older and more rustic than the rest of the town’s architecture. It was built into the side of the hill above the river, its bottom two floors made of sandstone. Rough-hewn logs covered the second- and third-floor facades. The steep pitch of the roof indicated it had been constructed to withstand heavy snows when there had been even harder winters in the first half of the twentieth century.

  “I bet this was the original ski lodge,” Judith said, pausing at the pine door to listen to the river ripple in the mountain valley. “It reminds me of our family cabin.”

  “Yeah?” Renie retorted. “So where’s the outhouse?”

  “Forget it.” Judith opened the door. The river’s flow was drowned out by the sound of cheerful voices, hearty laughter, and a lively accordion. “We are late,” she murmured. “Stay out of trouble, okay?”

  Renie made a face, but didn’t say anything. She was too busy trying to unzip her black hooded ski parka.

  Eldridge Hoover and Jeanne Barber both rushed over to greet Judith. “We were afraid you weren’t coming!” Jeanne cried, gripping her in a rib-crushing hug. “Everybody’s here.”

  Managing to unlock herself from Jeanne’s embrace, Judith scanned the crowd in the rustic room. She spotted the Denkels, the Beaulieus, Gabe Hunter, and several others from the B&B contingent. Barry Stafford was tending bar while Jessi kept him company. Evelyn Choo was talking to a slim, trim, silver-haired man Judith hadn’t yet met.

  “Connie must’ve finished her workshop,” Judith said.

  “Yes,” Jeanne said. “I learned all sorts of new tricks from her.”

  “I didn’t know Connie was turning tricks,” Renie said, sidling up to her cousin.

  Jeanne looked puzzled; Eldridge let out a little snort that sounded like a stifled laugh.

  Judith changed the subject. “Is that Mr. Stromeyer with Evelyn?”

  Jeanne nodded. “He seems very nice, but he came down with flu a couple of days ago. That’s why we haven’t seen much of him. Mr. Stromeyer is much older than he looks. Isn’t he distinguished?”