Judith Alguire - Rudley 02 - The Pumpkin Murders Read Free Page A

Tiffany would be around.”
    “Don’t tell me he’s still carrying a torch for Tiffany.”
    “Very quietly. I’m afraid Tiffany is quite oblivious.”
    “A man has to learn to speak up for himself.” He squared his jaw. “As I did.”
    Margaret beamed. “You were a veritable tiger, Rudley.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.
    Gregoire came out of the kitchen, sweeping his chef’s cap from his head.
    Rudley turned to him. “And what problem are you bringing me?”
    Gregoire drew himself up to his full five feet, three inches. “I do not have a problem. I have brought you a solution.”
    “Refreshing.”
    Gregoire turned his attention to Margaret. “That call you put through to the kitchen just before was from a friend I have known almost all my life. He wants to know if he can stay a week or longer at the bunkhouse.”
    “You know the rules,” Rudley said. “He can stay as long as he wants as long as he isn’t an arsonist or an exhibitionist.”
    “He isn’t an arsonist,” Gregoire said and hastened to add, “I think he is a little short on money. He likes to live more than his means. Anyway, as you know, Melba cannot fill in for supper the next few nights because of her harp recital.”
    Rudley levered himself off the desk. “I just can’t picture Melba on the harp. Must be the cigarette.”
    “Bluegrass is her,” said Gregoire. “In any event, the solution is that my friend is an incomparable waiter. He can wait. Melba can do her harp and Margaret can do her painting without abusing herself, carting around huge platters of my exquisite creations.”
    Rudley considered this for a moment. “I trust he’s reasonably congenial.”
    “He is like Tim on speed, but he has always been popular with his clientele.”
    “Tell him, if he’d like to wait, we’ll pay him the going rate.”
    “Thank you.”
    Rudley paused. “Is that all? Nothing to grouse about?”
    “No, everything is perfect.”
    Rudley looked disappointed. “All right.”
    “I will say goodnight then.”
    Margaret smiled. “Goodnight, Gregoire.”
    Rudley shook his head. “He’s Laurel without his Hardy, Abbott without his Costello.”
    “What were you saying, dear?”
    “Tim and Gregoire. Gregoire seems flat without him. They play off each other.”
    Margaret nodded. “He’ll be glad to have Tim back — even if they do argue all the time.”
    “They’re an act fit for vaudeville, Margaret.”
    “I’m glad we can help Gregoire’s friend. Perhaps we can keep him until he finds something else. Perhaps Jim will have a position for him.”
    Rudley scowled. “The pretty boy from up the bay?”
    Margaret smiled. “He is rather handsome.”
    “He seems like a bit of a dunderhead to me.”
    “Oh, I don’t know. He’s made quite a success of his bed and breakfast, and now that he’s expanding his guest rooms, I’m sure he’ll need to take on some help.” Margaret sorted through the reservation list. “I know he’d take Gregoire’s friend on if we recommended him.”
    “We haven’t even met him yet.”
    “If he’s a friend of Gregoire’s, that’s good enough for me.”
    Gregoire dimmed the lights in the kitchen and picked up the telephone.
    Gerald had just locked the door when the phone rang. He dropped his suitcases, fumbled the key into the lock, and dashed into the kitchen. But not in time. The caller had hung up. He played back the message.
    “Gerald, it’s Gregoire. You should take the bus that gets into Middleton at eleven. If you get off at Lowerton, you can get a ride in with our maintenance man. He will be driving a pickup truck. He is tall and skinny and looks like a psychopathic killer but he is harmless. And if you have a pair of black pants and some white shirts and you want to work, bring them. We will see you tomorrow.”
    “What was that?” Adolph stood in the doorway.
    “Some instructions from Gregoire.” Gerald ran back to his room, grabbed a pair of black pants from the closet, rolled