Silver Scream: A Bed-And-Breakfast Mystery Read Free

anniversary.”
    “The change affects your lodgings,” Judith explained. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to accommodate you that weekend.”
    “Why not?” Meg’s voice had again turned harsh. “You got the Queen of England staying there?”
    “Not exactly,” Judith replied. “I’ve had to rearrange my schedule. Unfortunately, there’s a movie crew coming for a big premiere.”
    “Movies!” Meg exclaimed. “Who’d pay five dollars to see a movie when they can watch it on TV a year later? Who cares? We like our sitcoms better anyway. They make Walt laugh, which isn’t easy to do these days.”
    Riceville, Iowa, must indeed be rural if they only charged five bucks for a first-run film, Judith thought. “It’s a big event,” she said, with a need to defend herself. “Bruno Zepf is opening his new epic, The Gasman, here in town.”
    There was a long pause at the other end. Finally, Mrs. Izard spoke again: “Never heard of him.”
    “I don’t know much about Mr. Zepf, either,” Judith admitted in an effort to appease the disgruntled Mrs. Izard. “You’ll be hearing from Ingrid Heffelman soon to make sure you’re put up in a very nice inn.”
    “Hunh.” Meg paused. “Okay, we’ll stay tuned. But this Heffelbump woman better call soon. October’s not that far away.”
    It was two months away, Judith thought, but didn’targue. She was beginning to feel grateful that the Izards wouldn’t be staying at Hillside Manor. Trying to remain gracious, she rang off. The Kidds and the Izards had been disposed of; she needn’t worry about Bruno Zepf and his movie people for two months. The waning summer and the early fall should be relatively uneventful.
    It was typical of Judith that, as Cousin Renie would say, she would bury her head in the sand. On that warm August evening, she dug deep and tried to blot out some of life’s less pleasant incidents.
    One of them was Skjoval Tolvang. The tall, sinewy old handyman with his stubborn nature and unshakable convictions had already made some improvements to Hillside Manor. He had repaired the sagging front steps, replaced the ones in back, rebuilt both chimneys, which had been damaged in an earthquake, inspected the electrical wiring, and put in what he called a “super-duper door spring” to keep the kitchen cupboard from swinging open by itself. What was left involved rehanging the door to the first-floor powder room and checking the toolshed’s plumbing.
    Judith came a cropper with the bathroom repair. On the first day of September, Mr. Tolvang showed up very early. It was not yet six o’clock when he banged on the back door. Joe was in the shower and Judith had just finished getting dressed. The noise was loud enough to be heard in the third-floor family quarters, and thus even louder for the sleeping guests on the second floor.
    “Damn!” Judith breathed, hurrying down the first flight of stairs. “Double damn!” she breathed, taking the back stairs to the main floor as fast as she could without risking a fall.
    “By early,” she said, yanking open the back door, “I thought you meant seven or eight.”
    “Early is early,” the handyman replied. “Isn’t this early, pygolly?”
    “It’s too early for me to have made coffee,” Judith asserted. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
    But Skjoval Tolvang reached into his big toolbox and removed a tall blue thermos. “I got my medicine to get me going. I vas up at four.”
    Coffee fueled the handyman the way gasoline propels cars. He never ate on the job, putting in long, arduous days with only his seemingly bottomless thermos to keep him going.
    “I’m a little worried,” Judith said, pouring coffee into both the big urn she used for guests and the family coffeemaker. “Having a bathroom just off the entry hall may no longer be up to city code.”
    “Code!” Skjoval coughed up the word as if he’d swallowed a bug. “To hell vith the city! Vat do they know, that bunch of crackpot