sneeze again.
Judith looked at herself in the mirror. Ellie Linn had
almond-colored skin. Winifred Best’s complexion was
the color of milk chocolate. Angela La Belle was fair,
but not that fair. None of them would have worn such
a pale shade of face powder.
“Joe,” she called from the entry hall, “come here. I
want you to see something.”
Joe, who’d just dumped what he estimated to be
about three hundred dollars’ worth of uneaten hors
d’oeuvres into the garbage, came in from the kitchen.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You used to work vice years ago,” Judith said,
pointing to a small film of white powder at the edge of
the sink. “Is that what I think it is?”
Joe ran his finger in the dusty residue, then tasted it.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s what you think it is. Cocaine.”
“Damn!” Judith swore. “I suppose it’s to be expected.”
Joe nodded. “I’m afraid so. Too many Hollywood
types get mixed up with this stuff.”
She sighed. “Well, it’s only for one more night.”
He chucked his wife under the chin. “That’s right.
Face it, they’re probably not the first guests you’ve
hosted who’ve had a habit.”
“That’s true.” Judith gave Joe a weary smile. “I’ll
just be glad when they’re gone. I prefer normal people.”
Joe lifted an eyebrow. “Like the gangsters and superstar tenors and gossip columnists you’ve had in the
past?”
Since all of the guests that he mentioned had been
murdered or involved in murder, Judith shuddered.
“No, not like that. I was thinking of the Kidds and even
the Izards. They’re the ones who should be here this
weekend, not this crew from L.A.”
Joe shrugged. “As you said, it’s only for one more
night. What could possibly happen?”
Around two A.M., Judith was awakened by muffled
noises from somewhere in the house. The guests, she
thought hazily, returning from their revels. When the
Flynns had gone to bed around eleven, the Hollywood
crew had not yet come back. But, as with all Hillside
Manor guests, they had keys to the front door. Judith
rolled over and drifted off again.
But moments later louder noises made her sit
straight up in bed. She glanced at Joe, who was snoring softly. He’d put in a long day; there was no need to
rouse him. Judith donned her robe and slippers, then
headed down to the second floor.
The lights were on in the hall. Bruno, clad only in
