By Mary Daheim
Hillside Manor's pals all loved owner Judith McMonigle Flynn's festive advice to deck the halls and homes of their cul-de-sac with attention-grabbing Christmas finery -- other than Enid Goodrich.The grumpy previous humbug refused to cooperate.Then a person cooked her Christmas goose -- silencing Enid's objections with a convenient hatchet. even though Judith's already obtained much lower than her tree -- what with holidy company booming and the predicted undesirable arrival of hubby Joe's soused ex-spouse -- she's no longer approximately to allow homicide reduce to rubble what is left of her seasonal spirit. With assistance from irrepressible cousin Renie, Judith's decided to wrap up this example for Christmas -- and disclose the Scrooge-slayer who felt strongly that the single Goodrich is a Deadrich.
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Goodrich is still inside. The medical men took Mr. ” The black eyes filled with tears. “Poor man, he must have been overcome with remorse. ” The tears overflowed, but Mrs. Swanson’s voice didn’t waver. “Wouldn’t you think he’d want to live without her? ” As a rule, Renie tried to keep her distance from Hillside Manor when Phyliss Rackley was around. The cleaning woman’s chronic hypochondria and persistent evangelizing drove Judith’s cousin absolutely nuts. Renie wasn’t a morning person anyway, so she used the time until noon to run errands and do household tasks.
The ones who got stuck with the cowshed,” Renie replied, still walking. “Mary and Joseph. ” “It could have been worse,” Joe said, squeezing Judith’s shoulders. Noting his wife’s puzzled look, he grinned and the gold flecks danced in his green eyes. “It could have been a toolshed. ” Judith asked as she finished arranging crackers, cheese, and crab dip on a tray for her guests’ hors d’oeuvres. ” Joe yawned, took a sip of scotch, and put the evening paper aside. “Fanciful, no. But let’s face it, Jude-girl—your mother’s pretty old and it’s Christmastime.
Judith quickly sorted through her memory for Morgan and Rael. Rael meant nothing, but Morgan rang a bell. He was the male detective, and, she recalled, was known as Patches. Recalling the eyepatch, Judith realized the reason for the nickname. Once the cousins were inside the house, Art and Glenda seemed anxious to leave. Not three minutes passed before the pair drove off in their separate cars. Judith and Renie were left in the kitchen, staring at each other. “This place gives me the creeps,” Renie declared.