Too Many Crooks Spoil the Broth

by Tamar Myers

  Old Doc looked suddenly serious. “That might be your evidence, right there.”

  “Billy Dee? Lydia Ream? I don’t think so. They’re the most likable pair in the bunch. I haven’t heard a negative word come out of Lydia’s mouth, and as for Billy Dee, he gets along with everybody, except maybe with Ms. Parker. But it wasn’t Ms. Parker who was poisoned, it was Linda McMahon.”

  “That’s conjecture,” said Melvin, entering the room. “We won’t know what she died of until we get the lab report back.”

  “Do we have to wait until then to see if she’s even dead?” I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Doc chuckled, Susannah flushed, and Melvin just plain glared. Fortunately for his sake, I couldn’t see how Shnookums reacted.

  “Well, some things are obvious,” I said.

  Melvin drew himself up to his full height, which diminished the praying mantis image but made him look like a wide-eyed child playing grown-up. “When you assume,” he intoned, “you make me an ass out of you and me.”

  “I do not allow obscene language in this house, Mr. Stoltzfus.”

  “For chrissakes, Magdalena, he was only trying to make a point,” said my much misguided sister.

  “Susannah Yoder! Mama would...”

  “Entwhistle, Mags, and leave Mama out of this. What Melvin said is true. You’re always jumping to conclusions. And another thing, you’re always judging people. Always coming down on them with your own rigid standards. Like you’re the only one who’s right. Like what’s right for you has to be what’s right for everyone else. You’re always critical, you know? You’re too hard on people, Mags. Give us a break sometimes.”

  Well, I didn’t have to just sit there and take that. “Doc, about lunch, why don’t we convene to the kitchen, where we’re not unwanted?”

  “Good idea,” said Doc.

  “Hey, we get to eat too,” said Susannah.

  “Fine, then you go to the kitchen and make lunch.”

  “You want to stay for lunch, honey?” Just when their relationship had had time to blossom to the honey stage was beyond me.

  “Well,” drawled Melvin, “I do need to stay and question the suspects when they return. How about if you and I order in pizza?”

  “Dreamy,” drooled Susannah.

  I knew for a fact that poor Mama was going to get a lot of exercise that day. Hernia does not have a pizza parlor, and whatever it was Susannah and Melvin planned to do in Mama’s parlor had little, if anything, to do with lunch.

  “Remember this is a Christian house, Susannah,” I admonished her futilely.

  My sister feigned shock. “There you go again, Mags. Always jumping to conclusions.”

  “At least it’s a decent form of exercise.”

  “Too bad you can’t compare the two,” she countered cruelly.

  I didn’t subject myself to any more of that. Instead I took my frustration out on fixing Doc the best lunch he’d had in seventeen years. At least that’s what he said about it. We barricaded ourselves in the kitchen and pigged out like we were teenagers.

  We were just finishing up the last of the cherry cobbler, with black cherry ice cream, when Billy Dee came bursting into the kitchen. “What the hell is going on, Miss Yoder, and just who the hell is that in the parlor?”

  Perhaps it was because I was satiated, or maybe because I realized it was pointless, but I ignored Billy Dee’s profanity. “You do know that Linda’s dead?”

  Billy Dee sat down heavily on one of the kitchen stools. “That’s what the fellow in there says. Is it true? My God, he’s got Jeanette hysterical with his accusations.”

  “Linda is dead,” I said gently. “That’s for sure. Susannah found her. I saw for myself. It was awful. And as for that guy in there, he’s with the police. I had to call him.”

  Billy Dee shook his head in apparent bewilderment. “I just can’t believe it. There weren’t a thing wrong with her last night. And that fellow says there might have been foul play. Do you think there was?”

  I looked over at Doc.

  “Can’t say for sure,” he said, “but it would appear so. Looked like poisoning to me.”

  Billy Dee rubbed his hands through his still-thick, only slightly graying hair. “It’s just so damn hard to believe. Who would do such a thing?”

  “Your guess has got to be better than ours,” I said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, you did know Linda better, much better, than I. You’re much more likely to know why someone would want her dead.”

  “Linda? Not a damn clue! Jeanette, yes, but not Linda. Hell, I’ve been tempted to kill Jeanette myself, but I don’t know nobody that’s got a thing against Linda.”

  “Well, maybe it was an accident then,” I suggested. Old Doc licked the foam of melted ice cream off his lips. “Could be. If she’d eaten toadstools or something. But from what’s available on Sam Yoder’s shelves, you’d have to be a wizard to put together something that toxic.”

  “I don’t know about that. Sam sells some weird produce, Doc.”

  Billy Dee didn’t appear to be listening. “It’s my fault,” I thought I heard him mutter.

  “What did you say?”

  “I might have been able to save her, Miss Yoder.”

  “How so?”

  He shook his head from side to side. “Last night, after I said good night to you, I went up to see if Linda was still awake. I wanted to see if she could talk some sense into Jeanette. I thought maybe Linda could convince Jeanette to hold a simple press conference and call this whole stalking thing off. Because it really ain’t nothing more than harassment. It doesn’t accomplish anything.”

  “Harassment seems to be Jeanette’s specialty. But go on, how could you have saved Linda?”

  Billy slapped his leg hard with the palm of his hand, as if punishing himself. “That damned sign was already on the door then, so I didn’t even bother to knock. But I should have suspected something was fishy. There ain’t no sign like that in my room, so it should have been a clue.”

  “Naw,” said Doc wisely, “that doesn’t mean anything. Lots of folks travel with their own ‘do not disturb’ signs. You know what I mean?” He winked lasciviously, presumably at me again.

  “I wouldn’t know about that, Doc.”

  Just then Joel stuck his head in the room. From where I sat, he looked like he had been crying. “The officer wants to see you, Billy Dee,” he said.

  Billy Dee got up and walked off slowly. Joel took his place on the stool.

  “This is Doc Shafer,” I said by way of introduction. “And this is Joel Teitlebaum from Philadelphia.” I don’t know where my manners had gone when it was time to introduce Billy Dee.

  “I’m the animal kind of doc, not the human kind,” said my friend modestly.

  Joel couldn’t have cared less. “It’s all my fault,” he practically wailed. At this range it was obvious he had been crying.

  “Let me see,” I pretended to muse, “you saw the ‘do not disturb’ sign hanging on Linda's door, and you didn’t disturb her, when doing so might have saved her life?”

  Joel stopped a silent sob in mid-sniffle and regarded me with surprise. “How did you know?”

  “Intuition. But never mind that. Tell me, how’s Jeanette holding up? After all, she is Linda’s mother.” I tactfully omitted saying that I personally thought Jeanette was as capable of feeling love as was a turnip.

  Young Joel’s mouth fell open about as wide as mine did the day I got home from school early and discovered Mama and Papa having sex. “She’s what? What did you say?”

  “I simply stated that Jeanette is, or should I say, was, Linda’s mother. Surely you knew that.”

  “I just can’t believe that. I mean, how do you know?”

  I shrugged. “I guess someone told me. Sorry, I thought it was common knowledge. But anyway, how is Jeanette doing?”

  Joel pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and
in so doing spilled a few sunflower seeds on my kitchen floor. “Jeanette is very upset, of course. After all, they were close, even if they were just friends. Which, of course, I guess they weren’t, since they happen to be mother and daughter.”

  “They seemed close,” I conceded. “Then again, all you A.P.E.S. members seem close, which doesn’t leave much room for suspects, does it? Unless the murderer is one of the Congressman’s party?”

  I thought I saw Joel squirm, but he might just have been shifting slightly on his stool. Those stools are rather hard and uncomfortable. “Why in the world would any of the Congressman’s party have it in for Linda?” he asked wide-eyed. “She never even saw them before Sunday night.”

  “Beats me. But speaking of which, did you guys catch up with them in the woods today?”

  Joel’s long sculptor’s fingers picked aimlessly at a sunflower seed that was stuck to his handkerchief. “If you ask me, they didn’t even go hunting today. We drove by every public access to state game lands in the country and didn’t see a sign of their car. They’re obviously not playing fair. This whole thing isn’t fair. Linda never hurt a fly, and now she’s dead. The Con-gressman, on the other hand, is a sleaze, and he gets away with everything. Life just isn’t fair.”

  “Life is never fair, Joel. Those times when it seems like it, it’s just coincidence.”

  “Life sucks,” said old Doc succinctly. “I ought to know. I’ve lived enough of it to be something of an expert on the subject.”

  “But my God, this is too much,” sobbed Joel. He buried his face in the handkerchief with the sunflower seed still clinging to it. “Linda didn’t deserve to die. And I know you don’t like her, Miss Yoder, but Jeanette didn’t deserve to lose a daughter, either. She must be in terrible pain.”

  I got up and headed for the parlor. I had to see for myself how Jeanette was doing. Much to my surprise, Melvin didn’t seem to mind when I slipped into the room. Perhaps he didn’t even notice.

  But Jeanette did. She was sitting on a footstool, weeping quietly in front of the fireplace. Billy Dee was down on one knee with an arm around her, and on the other side Susannah was doing the same. Melvin was standing a few feet to Susannah’s left, seemingly staring off into space. Together, they looked like a Norman Rockwell painting that might have been titled “Grief.” Except for Jeanette, nobody seemed to notice my entering the room. The second I slipped in, she rose to her feet and pointed a finger in my direction.

  “There she is!” she screamed. “There’s the woman who killed my little girl!”

  For a split second I thought of slipping out again, but of course it was too late. With that one accusation Jeanette Parker had undoubtedly sent Mama spinning so fast in her grave that the heat she generated might compel God to send her to the other place. For Mama’s sake I had to stay and sort things out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Melvin Stoltzfus snapped to attention. “What did you say?”

  “She didn’t say anything,” I ventured. “She screamed.” Jeanette’s finger, which was still pointing at me, vibrated on the end of her hand like that obscene thing I once saw Susannah hide away. “Murderess! There’s the woman who killed my little girl.”

  Melvin flashed me a look that would have been a smirk on someone with lips. “Why do you say that?” Jeanette sat down again. “She’s the one who bought the food that poisoned my little girl. She’s the one who asked us all to cook something for that disastrous meal. And then she didn’t even stay to eat it. Doesn’t that prove it?”

  “Let’s say it raises some questions,” said Melvin. Frankly, I was surprised at his restraint. I would have thought the praying mantis would have been glad for any excuse to pounce on me.

  “Yeah, like the fact that Susannah didn’t stay to eat it either. In fact, it was Susannah’s fault we had to skip out to begin with.”

  “Thanks a lot, Mags!” sang out Susannah. “Melvin, it’s not just because she’s my sister, but I really don’t think Magdalena would do such a thing.”

  For once I was proud of my baby sister.

  “And why not?” asked Melvin. It was obvious he respected Susannah’s opinions.

  “Well, for one thing, Magdalena doesn’t even kill spiders. And for another thing, that’s not like her at all. My sister is just too... too...”

  “Too dull?” I asked. “How about the fact that I don’t have a motive?”

  “Oh, well, there is that, too,” Susannah admitted.

  “But speaking of motive,” I continued, “you might find one or two amongst Congressman Ream’s party.” Jeanette seemed to shift on her stool, just like Joel had.

  “How’s that?” asked Melvin.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at Jeanette as I spoke, so I focused on a spot above the fireplace mantel where Mama had hung a painting of “Jesus Knocking at the Door.” The painting was gone now, and in its place hung a brightly colored Pennsylvania Dutch hex sign. It seemed like an appropriate place to look. I began to explain slowly.

  “Well, it has been brought to my attention that the Congressman is the victim’s biological father.” Jeanette gasped but said nothing.

  “Go on,” said Melvin.

  “So, you see the connection, don’t you? Maybe the Congressman wanted Linda out of the way for political reasons, especially since he may well decide to run for President, if he gets as far as the Senate. An illegitimate daughter,” I swallowed hard, “might be too much political baggage for even Garrett Ream to carry.”

  “Now wait just one cotton-picking minute,” said Billy Dee. “Who told you that?”

  “If you don’t believe the Congressman is Linda’s father, just ask Ms. Parker.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” said Billy Dee impatiently. “Who told you the Congressman has plans for national office?”

  I hope Susannah was proud of me, because I didn't even glance in her direction. “I have my sources. And anyway that’s not the issue. The issue is that Garrett Ream has a motive.”

  “Hardly,” said Melvin. “Nobody’s likely to kill his own daughter just to be President. The issue is the daughter, not whether she’s alive or dead.”

  I must admit he had me there. “Well, what about Mrs. Ream?” As much as I liked the woman, it was better her skin than mine.

  “What about her?”

  “Well,” I fumbled, “maybe she couldn’t stand to be confronted with her husband’s indiscretion.”

  Jeanette stood up and jabbed her finger in my direction again. “Linda was not the result of some indiscretion. Garrett and I were lovers. True lovers. We loved each other passionately, and long before he met Ms. High and Mighty.”

  “Well, that certainly isn’t our business, is it? I mean, about you and the Congressman being ‘true lovers.’ That sort of thing.”

  “Apparently that ‘sort of thing’ has never been your business, so why don’t you just butt the hell out?”

  “Ladies, ladies,” chided Billy Dee gently, “like the man says, we need to stick to the issue.”

  “Well, what about Delbert James?” asked Susannah helpfully. Although she’s my own sister, sometimes it seems like Susannah’s bulb is so dim even an owl couldn’t read by it.

  “What about him?” Melvin and I asked together. Susannah sat gaping silently at us like a hen who has seen the hawk but doesn’t know in which direction to run.

  “Actually, she might have a point,” said Billy Dee gallantly. “Delbert James might have done it. In fact, any of us might have done it, inadvertently.”

  “You mean that possibly the intended victim was someone other than Linda McMahon?” Melvin seemed to come alive with this new realm of possibilities.

  “Yeah, that’s what I mean. Now take this Delbert guy, I don’t hardly know him, but him and the Congressman are too tight, if you ask me. Like maybe one’s got something on the other. Maybe he was trying to poison the Congressman, or the other way around, and Linda ate whatever it was by mistake.”

  “Or ma
ybe Delbert and the Congressman are gay and Mrs. Ream was trying to poison Delbert,” suggested Susannah. Honestly, she should have left well enough alone.

  “Don’t be such a stupid twit,” said Jeanette. “Garrett is far from gay.”

  Nobody speaks to my sister like that, except for me. “Well, then, maybe you were trying to poison Garrett because he dumped you, and you accidentally poisoned your own daughter.”

  “Nobody dumped me,” Jeanette practically shrieked. I didn’t flinch. “Or maybe you were trying to poison Lydia Ream because you were jealous of her.”

  “Why the hell should I be jealous of that insipid, bourgeois sheep? Garrett and I split up twenty-three years ago.”

  In order not to escalate the hostilities, I suppressed a chuckle. If Lydia Ream was bourgeois, then so was Princess Di. “May I go now?”

  I had addressed the question to Melvin Stoltzfus, but Jeanette Parker answered. “By all means, do. Nobody asked you to come in here to begin with.”

  “I do own this place,” I reminded her.

  “But not for long, I promise you that. I plan to sue you for everything you’ve got, Ms. Yoder. You can expect to hear from my lawyers as soon as I get home.”

  “Ha! Not if someone else beats you to it,” I said. “You can’t squeeze blood from a stone.” I’d rather have the mousy Miss Brown’s estate wring me dry than that loud-mouth Jeanette.

  “The inn is entirely in my sister’s name,” Susannah piped up.

  “The rats are jumping ship now, are they?” I asked her.

  “Leave Shnookums out of this!”

  I glared at everyone in the room, including Billy Dee, who hadn’t offered anything like the support I had hoped for, and left the parlor. I grabbed my coat from the front closet by the desk and went out the front door and around the house to feed the chickens and gather eggs.

  That Mose had already attended to them was irrelevant. I have always found surrounding myself with chickens to be therapeutic. There is something about their squawking and squabbling that empowers me, especially if it is I who have generated the hee-cack. Chickens have many human characteristics, if you stop to think about it. They can be “mad as a wet hen,” “gabby old hens,” “cocky,” have “something to crow about,” and, of course, just plain old “chicken.” I suppose your average therapist would have a field day with this, but I enjoy being a Brobdingnagian in their Lilliputian world. Chickens fear and respect me, which is more than I can say for anything else in this world.