up the phone on Joe’s desk. “If she’d dug in at the
hotel, you’d think Morris would have stayed with her.”
A moment later she was asking for Mrs. Mayne.
“That’s Mrs. Morris Mayne,” she said. “She and her
husband checked in either Friday or Saturday.” There
was a long silence from Renie. “Oh. Really? Well,
thanks all the same.” She replaced the phone and stared
at Judith. “Mrs. Mayne checked out at noon.”
EIGHTEEN
“I DON’T GET it,” Judith said, stopping herself from
gnawing on another nail. “Why would Mrs. Mayne
be allowed to leave town when the rest of them
weren’t?”
“Maybe because she’s not in the movie business,”
Renie suggested. “Maybe there was a family emergency in California.”
Judith nodded absently. “Maybe she was never
here.”
Renie looked startled. “What?”
“I mean,” Judith explained, “here in this house.
We only assumed that the pioneer woman was Mrs.
Mayne. Do you remember what she looked like?”
Renie hunched her shoulders. “No. She was
wearing a big floppy bonnet. I don’t think I ever saw
her face.”
Judith got up from the swivel chair. “Let’s find
out. We’ll ask Winifred. She’s still in Room One,
sharing it with Ellie.”
But Winifred wasn’t in Room One. As the
cousins reached the second floor, they could hear
her raised voice coming from Room Six. They could
also hear Eugenia’s bellow.
“Now what?” Renie said as they edged closer to the
angry voices.
Signaling for Renie to be quiet, Judith pricked up
her ears. The cousins stood at the door to Room Six
like a pair of sentries.
“. . . more harm than good,” Eugenia shouted.
“That’s not true!” Winifred rejoined. “It was Morris
more than you!”
“Oh,” Eugenia responded, her voice dropping a
notch, “it was Bruno. It was always Bruno. But why
was he killed?”
“Who says he was?” Winifred retorted. “I thought it
was an accident.”
“Nonsense,” Eugenia snapped as Judith gave Renie
a thumbs-up sign. “Think about it. How could anyone
hit a cupboard door or get hit by it hard enough to
