be
ill.
After another three minutes had passed, she rapped
softly on the varnished walnut door. “Ms. La Belle?”
she called, also softly.
There was no response. Judith pressed her ear
against the old wood, but heard nothing. She rapped
again, this time louder.
Still nothing.
Alarmed, Judith tried the knob. The door was locked
from the inside.
“Ms. La Belle!” she called. “Angela! Are you all
right?”
Renie and Ellie Linn appeared from around the
corner.
“What’s going on?” Renie asked with a frown.
Quickly, Judith explained. “I’m afraid Angela may
be sick.”
Renie’s frown deepened. “The lock’s one of those
old-fashioned bolt things, isn’t it?”
“Right,” Judith said, “but it means damaging the
door, which Skjoval Tolvang just rehung.”
“Then leave Angela in there,” Ellie said with a
shrug, and walked away.
“We can’t,” Judith declared, scowling at Ellie’s departing figure. “I’ll get Joe.”
Everyone in the living room seemed to be caught up
in a third-and-three situation for the Packers except
Joe, who was watching Bill watch the guests. Urgently,
Judith grabbed her husband by the arm.
“Come with me,” she commanded, keeping her
voice down. “We have a lock problem.”
“What lock?” he said, turning to Judith. “I thought
you knew how to pick them.”
“Not this one,” Judith said, pointing to the bathroom
door. “It’s a bolt, remember? Angela La Belle is in
there and won’t answer.”
Joe looked skeptical, but saw that his wife was upset
and threw up his hands. “Okay, but if there’s nothing
wrong and she just wants to . . . well, sit around, then
I’m going to be even less popular around here than I
am already.”
“Please, Joe,” Judith begged. “Do it.”
First, however, Joe knocked. Then he called Angela’s
name. There was still no response. Grasping the doorknob, he counted to three, then gave a mighty tug. The
old wood shuddered, but stayed in place. He tried a second time. The bolt gave, but not enough to come free.
“Get Bill,” Joe said to Renie. He was panting and
beginning to perspire.
