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

nodding at the azaleas, rhododendrons, and roses that flanked the west side of the house. “Making trouble, mark my vords.”
    “I wonder,” Judith murmured, heading down the driveway.
    There was, however, no one in sight. She moved on to the front of the house. An unfamiliar white car was parked in the cul-de-sac. There were no markings on it. Judith moved on to the other side of the house.
    A tall man in a dark suit and hat stood between the house and the hedge that divided Judith and Joe Flynn’s property from their neighbors, Carl and Arlene Rankers. The man had his back to Judith and appeared to be looking up under the eaves.
    “Sir!” Judith spoke sharply. “May I help you?”
    The man whirled around. “What?” He had a beard and wore rimless spectacles. There was such an old-fashioned air about him that Judith was reminded of a character out of a late-nineteenth-century novel.
    “Are you looking for someone?” Judith inquired, moving closer to the man.
    He hesitated, one hand brushing nervously against his trouser leg. “Well, yes,” he finally replied. “I am. A Mr. Terwilliger. I was told he lived in this cul-de-sac.”
    Judith shook her head. “There’s no one by that name around here. Unless,” she added, “he intends to stay at my B&B.” She made an expansive gesture toward theold three-story Edwardian house. “I run this place. It’s called Hillside Manor. There’s a sign out front.”
    The man, who had been slowly but deliberately backpedaling from Judith, ducked his head. “I must have missed it. Sorry.” He turned and all but ran around the rear of the house.
    Judith’s hip replacement didn’t permit her to move much faster than a brisk walk. Puzzled, she watched the man disappear, then returned to the front yard. He was coming down the driveway on the other side of the house, still at a gallop. A moment later he got into the car parked at the curb and pulled away with a burst of the engine.
    “Local plates,” she murmured. But from where Judith stood some ten yards away, she hadn’t been able to read the license numbers. With a shrug, she headed back to the toolshed. She’d mention the stranger’s appearance to Joe when he got home. If she remembered.
    Five hours later, when Joe arrived cursing the dead end he’d come up against in a missing antique clock case, Judith had forgotten all about the man who’d shown up at Hillside Manor.
    It would be two months before she’d remember, and by that time it was almost too late.

TWO
    J UDITH RECOILED FROM the obscenity screamed into her ear by Cousin Renie. The four-letter word was rapidly repeated before Renie cried, “You’re not 911!” and hung up.
    Shaken, Judith stared at her cleaning woman, Phyliss Rackley. “Oh, dear. What now?” she breathed to Phyliss.
    “What ‘what now’?” Phyliss inquired, scarcely missing a beat as she scoured the kitchen sink.
    “My cousin—Serena,” Judith said, her high forehead wrinkled in worry. “I think she was trying to call 911. I don’t want to call her back in case she’s on the line with them. Maybe I should go over to her house to see what’s happened.”
    “You got those Hollywood sinners due in two hours,” Phyliss pointed out. “Besides, that cousin of yours is probably in Satan’s clutches. I always said she’d end up in the hot spot.”
    Judith’s gaze darted to the old schoolhouse clock. It was two on the dot. Friday, October 29. The day when Bruno Zepf and his Hollywood entourage would arrive for the premiere of The Gasman on the following night.
    But family came before filmdom. “I’ve still got some spare time. I’m going to Renie and Bill’s. I don’t dare call in case she’s tied up on the phone with 911.”
    “Keep away from Lucifer!” Phyliss warned as Judith rushed out the back door. “He’ll come after you when you least expect him!”
    Judith was used to her cleaning woman’s fundamentalism. But like Skjoval Tolvang’s obstinacy, Phyliss