The Wurst Is Yet to Come Read Online Free Page B

direction. She saw no sign of Franz Wessler, but decided not to mention the fact to Renie. Maybe a relative was meeting him.
    â€œGorgeous day over here,” Renie said as they walked to the bus. “It’s always either warmer or colder on this side of the summit.”
    Judith nodded. The mountains divided the state not only geographically, but in almost every other way. The western half was damp, cool, hilly, and much more heavily populated. To the east, the larger part of the state had a Midwestern air. Agriculture dominated, with wheat fields, orchards, and farms scattered over great stretches of almost flat land. Summers were hot; winters were cold. The western side was damp and rainy; the eastern part got far more snow. The very earth changed from dark brown to brick red where the Ice Age had carved out the arid land that had been spurned until great dams were built under President Roosevelt’s New Deal.
    But at the 1,100-foot level, Little Bavaria clung to the mountainside in alpine splendor, a fitting tribute to its namesake.
    â€œGood,” Renie murmured when they’d pulled onto the main street, “they haven’t spoiled it. I was afraid they might get too kitschy. This kind of Bavarian architecture is sufficiently elaborate in and of itself.”
    â€œ Danke, Frau Jones,” Judith said with a wry smile. “Your artistic talent is showing. I must confess, every time I’ve been here, I actually feel as if we were back in Germany almost forty years ago.”
    â€œThat’s the point,” her cousin said with a nod at the balconied buildings with their bright flags fluttering in the autumn breeze. “Very smart of the locals to keep it simple. Where is Hanover Haus?”
    â€œIt’s in the middle of town on the right-hand side,” Judith replied. “When I told the driver where we were staying, he said it’s the third stop.”
    Several of the older visitors in costume got off at the first hostelry. The two younger couples with their quartet of teenagers made their exit next. By the time the bus reached Hanover Haus, a half-dozen other people disembarked with the cousins. Judith recognized two of the women as fellow innkeepers. She was about to greet them, but both suddenly seemed preoccupied with looking elsewhere. Judith shot Renie a quick glance. “What’s wrong with them? Did they snub me?”
    â€œWho are they?” Renie asked in her normal tone.
    Judith made a face at her cousin. “Keep it down, will you?” She slowed her pace midway through the small lobby. “Let’s wait until everybody else checks in. In fact, let’s go back outside.”
    â€œWith our luggage?” Renie retorted. “We’ll look like pathetic waifs.”
    â€œWe’ll shove them into that alcove,” Judith said, indicating a recess by the entrance. “I don’t want to get off to a bad start running into people who believe what Ingrid Heffelman says about me being a ghoul.”
    Renie cooperated. A moment later, they were outside. “I spy a café,” she said, pointing to the Gray Goose Beer House. “Let’s eat.”
    Judith didn’t argue. They walked two doors down and entered the pub. It was almost full, but several patrons were obviously leaving. After a brief wait, the cousins were seated at a table by the fireplace. Their server was a careworn blonde whose nametag identified her as HERTHA .
    Judith barely had a chance to glance at the menu, which was attached to a wooden plank. “Which brat do you recommend?”
    â€œThe special’s duck,” the server said in a jaded voice.
    â€œOkay,” Judith said. “A kaiser roll and a small green salad, please.”
    Hertha turned to Renie, who was scowling. “And you, ma’am?”
    â€œMa’am would rather eat this menu plank than bratwurst,” Renie declared. “I’ve cooked so many of those things for my