Clam Wake by Mary Daheim Page A

won’t do anything until tomorrow.” Judith started for the hall, suitcase in hand. “The first person I want to call on is the grief-stricken widow. I refuse to do that tonight. Her family is probably with her.” She looked up and down the short hall. “Do you want to sleep in the master bedroom or the spare room?”
    â€œAuntie Vance and Uncle Vince have a king-size bed,” Renie said. “Why bother making two beds?”
    â€œBecause you chew gum in bed,” Judith replied. “You almost drove me nuts when we had to share a room in Little Bavaria last October.”
    â€œSo why didn’t you bring earplugs?”
    â€œDamn,” Judith said under her breath. “I should’ve thought of that. Did you bring gum?”
    â€œOf course. I can’t get to sleep without it.”
    â€œThen you take the spare room.”
    Renie shrugged. “Hey, do the Sedgewicks play bridge or pinochle?”
    â€œI don’t know. I think the Webers play poker with them and the Friedmans. You want to call to see if they’re bored?”
    â€œOh, they’re bored,” Renie responded. “Murder notwithstanding, I’m kind of bored, too. Really—what do people do up here in the evenings, especially this time of year?”
    â€œThey watch TV, like normal people. Even Joe and I do that. You watch TV with Bill.”
    â€œI watch what Bill watches,” Renie said. “If I don’t like it, I read or do a crossword or jigsaw puzzle. Besides, it’s hard to focus on any TV program with Mom calling me three times every night. I also missed the part in the wedding vows about a man promising to have and to hold not only his wife, but the TV remote.”
    Judith smiled, but a knocking sound startled both cousins.
    â€œI’ll get it,” Renie muttered before going to the door. “Are you armed and homicidal?” she shouted.
    A muffled female voice seemed to say no. Renie cautiously opened the door as Judith came across the room to join her. The young woman with red curls peeking out from under her brown hood looked upset.
    â€œWhere’s Vance?” she asked in an uncertain voice.
    â€œOut of town,” Renie replied. “You are . . . ?”
    â€œKatie Blomquist, Ernie and Edna Glover’s daughter.”
    Renie opened the door all the way. “Come in. Sorry about the query, but you must know we’re all a bit on edge.”
    Judith offered her hand as Katie came inside. “We’re the Webers’ nieces. I’m Judith and this is Renie. We’re house-sitting. I’m very sorry about your father. Do sit down.”
    â€œI can’t stay,” Katie said, red-rimmed green eyes darting this way and that. “I wanted to borrow a heating pad. Mom told us Vance and Vince had an extra one. Hers broke and she needs it for her arthritis. It’s . . . well, it’s going to be hard for her to sleep tonight as it is.” Katie sniffed once as if to underscore the comment.
    â€œI’ll look for it,” Renie volunteered, heading for the master bedroom.
    â€œDo sit,” Judith urged, pulling out a kitchen chair. “We didn’t really know your dad. But what happened to him was a terrible thing.”
    Hesitating, Katie sat. “I can’t take it in. Who would do such a thing?” She shook her head, causing the hood to slip down to her shoulder-length curls. “We heard two strange women . . .” She stopped. “Was it you and your sister?”
    â€œWe’re cousins,” Judith said with a kindly smile. “Our dads were Vance’s older brothers.”
    â€œOh.” Katie sniffed again. “I didn’t mean you seemed strange. I meant . . .” She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a Kleenex to blow her nose. “You know what I mean. That must’ve been awful for you. It makes me shudder just to think about