Death as a Last Resort Read Online Free PDF Page A

Bay.”
    â€œAnd what day did he disappear?”
    â€œMust have been sometime on the Saturday while we were out fishing.”
    â€œDid you have time to make us a list of those at the lodge?” Nat asked.
    â€œThat’s what the girl just brought in,” he said, passing the typed sheet over to Nat. “But they won’t know any more than I do.” Just then the phone rang and the two of them sat waiting while Arnold Schaefer reamed out the caller. “What do ya mean the truck is stuck in the mud?” he yelled. “That load was supposed to be here by nine today. I don’t care how you do it, just get the bloody thing out.” He slammed down the receiver and stood up. “Can’t get good help anywhere these days,” he muttered. “You can let yourselves out.”
    â€œDid you all go out fishing that day?” Maggie asked, getting to her feet.
    â€œAll the men. The wives did whatever you women do.”
    A tall, blond, moustached man sitting in the reception area looked up expectantly as they left Schaefer’s office.
    â€œIf he’s applying for that vacant accounting job,” Nat said as he slid behind the wheel, “he’s going to need lots of stamina.”
    â€œI wouldn’t work for that man for any money,” Maggie said as they drove out of the gates. “He’s a real bully.”
    â€œHis wife must be a saint,” Nat said, laughing. “But I think we’ve just got to find time to make it to that funeral tomorrow.”
    â€¢ • •
    THERE WERE NO PARKING spaces left near the Holy Rosary Cathedral on Richards Street, so by the time Nat had manoeuvred the old Chevy into a tight spot on Homer and they had walked back, the church was full and the coffin had arrived at the impressive front doors. One of the black-dressed ushers solemnly held back the latecomers while the chief mourners jockeyed for the place of honour behind the coffin. Besides Jacquelyn there was one other heavily veiled woman who was trying to push a dark-haired young man in his early twenties to the front, but she hadn’t reckoned on Jacquelyn, who hissed, “What the hell are you doing here?”
    â€œRené is Maurice’s only son and he has the right to be first behind the coffin,” the other woman hissed back, “and I am still his wife in the eyes of the Church.”
    But Jacquelyn, lace handkerchief at the ready, leaned on a grim-faced Arnold Schaefer and pushed into the lead.
    Maggie was hoping to see the outcome of the confrontation, but Nat led her into the church. There they waited for the usher to take them to a seat, but he was caught up in an argument with another two heavily veiled women.
    â€œWe have to be in the front pew,” the elder of the two announced in a loud voice.
    â€œThe front pew is for family, madam,” the usher said quietly.
    â€œWe are family,” the woman retorted. “Isabelle is Maurice’s daughter.” And pushing the poor man aside, she sailed down the aisle, dragging a very reluctant teenaged girl behind her, and they ensconced themselves in the family pew.
    The organ music suddenly quieted and the usher, with a look of panic on his face, grabbed Maggie’s arm, rushed her and Nat to the front and practically pushed them into two seats near the choir stalls.
    â€œAt least we can see what’s going on,” Maggie whispered.
    â€œShh!” Nat hissed as the incense bearer and the priest entered the nave, followed by the coffin with a huge ornate floral arrangement on it and three pallbearers walking on each side. Jacquelyn Dubois, leaning on a now obviously embarrassed Arnold Schaefer, sobbed daintily into her black-edged handkerchief. But Maggie noticed that the tears dried up very quickly when Jacquelyn realized that wife number two and daughter were sitting in her place and wife number one and son were coming up fast behind her.
    Arnold Schaefer bent