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Authors: Donna Fletcher Crow
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napkin. “No, I never used it. It’s fine for a game like this—really a lot of fun—but it would never do for a book. Much too thin and contrived. Wouldn’t be believable at all. Of course, I don’t know if Stark is going to use the ending I suggested. He’s already made several changes to fit the situation. As for my books, well, they are all in the shop downstairs. As well as Stark’s and a good selection of the classics: Christie, Sayers, Margery Allingham—”
But the magazine article was still foremost in Elizabeth’s mind, and she didn’t take the offer to discuss other mystery writers. “The picture of you with Margo Lovell was stunning. Is she still acting? I haven’t heard anything about her for years.”
“A most startling event has just been discovered—” Weldon Stark’s agitated voice caught everyone’s attention, and Gavin’s answer to Elizabeth’s question was lost. “Millie Maeda has disappeared. We fear foul play as the kitchen shows signs of struggle, including her apron having been ripped off.” He held up a white ruffled apron with the strings still tied, but pulled apart at the side.
“We have it on the best of authority that no abductor would be so foolish as to hide his victim in a guest’s room, but with that as the only off-limits, there is a ten-point bonus for the team who finds Millie—or her body,” he concluded darkly.
“Oh, wow! A manhunt!” Evan’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“That’s womanhunt,” Cathy reminded her brother.
“Uh-ho, Millie knew too much—do you suppose it was that argument she overheard?” It seemed that Irene played the whole game on the edge of her chair.
“It looks bad for Nigel,” Bill Johnson agreed.
“Maybe it wasn’t that at all.” Helen frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe the poison was in the soup, but Millie didn’t put it there, and the murderer is afraid she’ll figure out who did.”
“It would be interesting to know who visited the kitchen before dinner. Let’s try to find out next time we interview witnesses.”
“Shall we retire to the library to get organized?” Richard held Elizabeth’s chair for her.
As soon as they were in their meeting room Richard continued, “There are four floors, so I suggest we work in four teams.”
Elizabeth knew a moment of secret delight as Anita started to volunteer to work with Richard, but her delight turned to dismay when Irene invited Anita to work with Benton and herself. There was nothing Anita could do but agree gracefully.
Most of the searching activity was centered in the lounge rooms and public areas on the first two floors, so the fourth floor was comparatively quiet for Elizabeth and Richard.
Elizabeth wanted to talk to him about the night before, but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject: “Did you sleep all right?” “How are you today?” “That was a quite a storm we had last night.” None of the subtle approaches seemed right. Then she knew.
“Thank you for sharing with me last night, Richard,” she said quietly.
He gave a sardonic little half-smile. “That’s tactful of you. I was about to apologize for the melodrama.”
“Oh, no! Please don’t think that. I felt honored. You know, I never knew—,” she interrupted herself to open a linen closet and make sure there could be no body tucked behind the stacks of sheets, “—about the baby.” She laid her hand on his arm for the briefest moment.
He walked on down the hall. “In a way that was the hardest part. I—we—had looked forward so to raising children.” He stopped before a door labeled “Men,” and pointed her to the one marked “Women.”
“I’ll meet you back out here,” he said.
Elizabeth walked in without the slightest hesitation and checked the stalls, under the sinks, behind the shower curtain. Nothing. When there was only one place left to check, Elizabeth paused. This was really silly. So what if Millie were lying in the bathtub? Why should that frighten
But the magazine article was still foremost in Elizabeth’s mind, and she didn’t take the offer to discuss other mystery writers. “The picture of you with Margo Lovell was stunning. Is she still acting? I haven’t heard anything about her for years.”
“A most startling event has just been discovered—” Weldon Stark’s agitated voice caught everyone’s attention, and Gavin’s answer to Elizabeth’s question was lost. “Millie Maeda has disappeared. We fear foul play as the kitchen shows signs of struggle, including her apron having been ripped off.” He held up a white ruffled apron with the strings still tied, but pulled apart at the side.
“We have it on the best of authority that no abductor would be so foolish as to hide his victim in a guest’s room, but with that as the only off-limits, there is a ten-point bonus for the team who finds Millie—or her body,” he concluded darkly.
“Oh, wow! A manhunt!” Evan’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“That’s womanhunt,” Cathy reminded her brother.
“Uh-ho, Millie knew too much—do you suppose it was that argument she overheard?” It seemed that Irene played the whole game on the edge of her chair.
“It looks bad for Nigel,” Bill Johnson agreed.
“Maybe it wasn’t that at all.” Helen frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe the poison was in the soup, but Millie didn’t put it there, and the murderer is afraid she’ll figure out who did.”
“It would be interesting to know who visited the kitchen before dinner. Let’s try to find out next time we interview witnesses.”
“Shall we retire to the library to get organized?” Richard held Elizabeth’s chair for her.
As soon as they were in their meeting room Richard continued, “There are four floors, so I suggest we work in four teams.”
Elizabeth knew a moment of secret delight as Anita started to volunteer to work with Richard, but her delight turned to dismay when Irene invited Anita to work with Benton and herself. There was nothing Anita could do but agree gracefully.
Most of the searching activity was centered in the lounge rooms and public areas on the first two floors, so the fourth floor was comparatively quiet for Elizabeth and Richard.
Elizabeth wanted to talk to him about the night before, but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject: “Did you sleep all right?” “How are you today?” “That was a quite a storm we had last night.” None of the subtle approaches seemed right. Then she knew.
“Thank you for sharing with me last night, Richard,” she said quietly.
He gave a sardonic little half-smile. “That’s tactful of you. I was about to apologize for the melodrama.”
“Oh, no! Please don’t think that. I felt honored. You know, I never knew—,” she interrupted herself to open a linen closet and make sure there could be no body tucked behind the stacks of sheets, “—about the baby.” She laid her hand on his arm for the briefest moment.
He walked on down the hall. “In a way that was the hardest part. I—we—had looked forward so to raising children.” He stopped before a door labeled “Men,” and pointed her to the one marked “Women.”
“I’ll meet you back out here,” he said.
Elizabeth walked in without the slightest hesitation and checked the stalls, under the sinks, behind the shower curtain. Nothing. When there was only one place left to check, Elizabeth paused. This was really silly. So what if Millie were lying in the bathtub? Why should that frighten
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