Free Just Desserts : A Bed-and-breakfast Mystery by Mary Daheim

next door. Luckily, the Ericsons were gone for the weekend. Unlike the Rankerss, who had known the Grover family for almost thirty years, the Ericsons were relative newcomers and young enough to be closed-minded.
    Rubbing at the back of her neck where a headache was just beginning, Judith tried to collect her thoughts. At least her mother was settled for the night. Renie would no doubt stay over. The Brodies appeared to be stuck, on orders of the police. Judith wondered if Oriana would demand a re-fund. She also wondered if the press had been alerted, either by Mavis or through the regular media channels. That idea made her grit her teeth: Renie was too sanguine JUST DESSERTS / 55
    about negative publicity; Judith could already see the For Sale sign in front of Hillside Manor.
    Below in the garden, the carefully pruned rose bushes stood like stalwart soldiers, resisting the rain and wind.
    Heavy clouds hung low over the city, nestling against the curve of the bay where the midnight ferry was making its run into town. Judith loved her city, her old neighborhood, her family home. She had made great sacrifices to marry Dan McMonigle, all for naught, except for Mike. Miraculously, she had gotten everything back. But perhaps it was only a temporary miracle, about to be snatched away by ugly circumstances she could not have foreseen in her wildest dreams. There was only one way to save Hillside, not to mention her own reputation, and that was for Joe to solve the case as quickly as possible. Surely he must be a first-rate homicide detective. She had to rely on him to get her out of this grisly dilemma.
    A strange little laugh burbled up out of Judith’s throat.
    For all she knew, Joe Flynn was the biggest clown in the police department. She had relied on him twenty years ago and had been left holding more than just her flight bag. She didn’t know Joe anymore; she didn’t know if he was married, a father, an Elk, or a transvestite.
    The worst part was that she didn’t care what he had become. Joe was still Joe. Judith swore to herself, then at herself, and got up as a noise from the far end of the room caught her attention. Peering into the gloom as the fire began to die down, she saw two figures huddled close together on the other side of the French doors. A man and a woman, she realized, behaving in at least a semi-intimate manner. The man turned just enough so that she could recognize his profile: Dash Subarosa. No doubt he and Gwen had decided to defy the rain and catch a breath of fresh air. Judith was about to tiptoe over to the coffee table and retrieve the cups and saucers when it occurred to her that the woman was much too small to be Guinevere Brodie Tweeks. Pausing in mid-step, Judith squinted at the small square panes of glass.
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    The woman in Dash Subarosa’s arms was Ellie Carver, and as far as Judith could tell, Mrs. Do-Good was doing a lot better than might have been expected.
    “You won’t believe this!” Judith exclaimed in a stage whisper as she hurtled through the swinging door. “Ellie is out on the back porch necking with Mr. Sleaze!” She stopped dead in her tracks, oblivious to Renie’s gaping reaction.
    “What’s that smell? Are you baking a boot?”
    “I was just going to check,” said Renie, reaching for the oven door. “We must have left something in there. A pan, maybe.”
    Black smoke curled out of the stove, sending both women reeling in the direction of the dishwasher. Waving her hands, Judith ran to the back door and threw it open, but the smoke alarm went off anyway. Out on the porch, two pairs of feet stampeded down the back steps. Joe Flynn flew into the kitchen and made a face.
    “What’s on fire?” he yelled over the screech of the alarm.
    Renie was poking at the oven with a meat fork. “Oh, dear,”
    she gasped. “You won’t believe this, but…” The alarm stopped, leaving her voice pitched at high volume. “But,” she went on, several notes lower, “I