Killjoy

to fall apart in two weeks. When you talk to Carrie, tell her to stop worrying.'

'Yes, I'll tell her,' she said. 'I'll call you later, Tony. Love you.'

She ended the call and looked at Oliver. 'I'd like to speak to your manager.'

Oliver looked offended by the request. He stiffened and his voice turned snippy. 'I assure you Mr. Cannon will tell you the same thing I just did. We're booked to capacity. It's a misconception to think that we hold back rooms. I'll be happy to assist you in finding suitable lodging in Aspen. Nothing will compare to Utopia, of course, but you could take advantage of our day spa treatments. I'm sure you'd enjoy our stress-relief hot-stone massage. It's quite invigorating.'

His tone was grossly condescending. She wasn't interested in his damn massage. She wanted to find her aunt. Keeping her irritation in check was difficult, but she managed it. She had never used her job to get around obstacles before, and she wasn't about to start now, but the urge was nearly irresistible. Oh, how she would have loved to pull out her ID and flash it in front of Oliver's face. He'd sure as certain stop being so snippy then, wouldn't he? She couldn't do it, though, because it wouldn't be

honest, acting like a full-fledged agent when she actually worked in the basement keyboarding all day. Besides, it wasn't a real FBI badge, and anyone with half a brain would know it.

She suddenly realized she was projecting her frustration and anger on the innocent clerk. Oliver was simply doing his job. Maybe Carrie had lost track of the time. She might have met a famous movie star at the mountain retreat and didn't want to leave.

That had to be it. Her aunt was busy networking and had forgotten to call. Avery clung to the possibility because it was all she had. Her anxiety didn't go away, though. Why had Carrie canceled her reservation at the spa?

'I really need to talk to your manager.'

Oliver didn't move.

John Paul said quietly, 'Do as the lady asks.'

'Mr. Cannon went downstairs to the mail room to see about a package.'

'Go get him and tell him that John Paul Renard is back and wants to talk to him again. We'll wait in his office.'

It wasn't what John Paul said but how he said it that got Oliver moving. He stepped back from the computer, turned, and jogged down the corridor.

John Paul didn't give Avery time to ask questions or argue. He started shoving her things back in her backpack, then grabbed

her hand and pulled her along. 'Come on. I know the way.'

'I can handle this, Mr. Renard. You don't need to-'

'Call me John Paul.' He led her behind the counter, then down a long, red-carpeted hall.

She jerked away from him and dug in her heels at the door to the manager's office.

'All right. I want some answers,' she demanded. 'First of all, exactly how do you know my aunt?'

He had his own question. 'Why didn't you tell your uncle that your aunt is missing?'

'I don't want him to worry. I'm not certain she is missing.'

'Then where is she?'

Good point. Carrie was probably drinking mimosas on top of a mountain somewhere having a fine old time. And making Avery nuts worrying about her. No, Carrie would never be so thoughtless. Something was wrong.

'I don't know where she is, but I'm going to make some calls and find her.'

'Why would she cancel?' he asked. 'The clerk said a woman called-'

'The hotel must have screwed up our reservations. You don't need to hang around. If you'd like to leave your phone number,

I'll make sure Carrie gets it. She'll probably come strolling into the lobby any second now with some outrageous excuse.'

She didn't believe a word of what she'd just told him, but she hoped he would buy it and go away.

'Then I'll wait with you until she gets here,'

She gave up. The man was more tenacious than she was. She would find out what his agenda was after she located her aunt.

Ten minutes later, she was sitting behind Mr. Cannon's art deco desk in his spacious wind tunnel of an office overlooking the serenity pool. The overhead ceiling fan was on low and making a clicking sound with each rotation. The noise reminded her of Mrs. Speigel. The sweet old woman made the same sound when she spoke because of her ill-fitting false teeth.

Cannon also had another fan perched on top of his black lacquered filing cabinet, but that one was going full speed. All the

papers on his desk were weighted down with gold sphere-shaped paperweights.

'Cannon's taking too damned long. While you make your phone calls, I'll go find him,' John Paul said. 'You stay put.'

Avery waited until he'd left the office and closed the door before she dialed her home answering machine. She hoped Carrie

had left her a message explaining her absence, but that wasn't the case. Then Avery tried her office voice mail, and there wasn't

a message from her aunt there either.

Now what? In desperation she called the pen. Maybe, just maybe, Carrie had talked to Margo or Lou or Mel.

Margo answered the main line. 'I'm so glad you called, Avery. You're not going to believe this. I called your neighbor's caretaker like I told you I would-'

'Margo,' Avery interrupted. 'You can tell me later. I've got a problem here, and I need your help.'

'You need to hear what I found out,' her friend insisted. 'Mrs. Speigel broke her hip.'

Avery's nerves were nearing the breaking point, but she knew that she was going to have to wait until Margo finished talking about Mrs. Speigel before she'd let her get a word in.

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'She broke her hip two weeks ago, and then she got pneumonia. She almost died,' she added. 'But Marilyn, the lady who takes care of her, told me the antibiotics are finally working, and it looks like she's going to recover. That's pretty amazing considering the fact that Mrs. Speigel is in her nineties.'

'Why are you telling me this?' She rubbed her brow as she asked the question.

'Don't you get it? Mrs. Speigel couldn't have snuck her car out. She was in the hospital. Someone stole her car, and whoever

it was was in such a hurry to get out of the parking garage, he or she almost hit you.' Before Avery could comment, Margo enthusiastically continued. 'The car was abandoned on M Street. It was illegally parked, so they towed it. Marilyn told me that it would break Mrs. Speigel's heart if the family sold her car. Even though she never drives it, she feels independent having it in the garage. Marilyn uses it to take the old lady on errands. Aren't you happy to know Mrs. Speigel wasn't trying to kill you?' she added with a laugh.

'Margo, I need help. Stop talking for a minute and listen. My aunt's missing.'

She filled her in on the information she had, then said, 'There's a man here waiting to talk to Carrie. He won't tell me how he knows her or what he wants. He's the strong, silent type. Run his name through the computer, will you? There's something about him. His name is John Paul Renard.'

'What do you mean, 'There's something about him'?'

'He says he's a carpenter, but he doesn't look like one.

'What's a carpenter supposed to look like?' 'Come on, Margo. See if there's anything in the system. 

'I'm typing in the name right now. Are you looking for parking tickets or something?' 

'I don't know what I'm looking for,' she admitted. 'He's got this air about him. When I first saw him across the lobby, I was sure he must be an actor, but later, I noticed the way he was watching the people coming and going. He might be… dangerous. I think he could be.' She sighed dismissively. 'I'm probably overreacting because I'm so worried about Carrie. It isn't like her to take off like this. Just look up the name, okay?'

'Jeez, Avery. You think he's a criminal?'

'I don't know…'