the bedspread. It was a wallet-size picture of a young
woman, perhaps still in her teens. Like the book, the
photo was well-worn, but the girl’s face was fresh, innocent, pretty. Judith thought it might be a high- school
yearbook picture. She flipped it over, but nothing was
written on the back. The blond bouffant hairstyle indicated the sixties. Judith stared at the photo in fascination. She’d seen that face somewhere else, not so
young and definitely not so innocent.
But she couldn’t remember where. Or who.
SIX
WHEN JUDITH GOT back downstairs, five early young
trick-or-treaters came to the front door. While Renie
doled out candy to the zebra, the gorilla, the fairy
princess, and two wizards, Judith welcomed Arlene,
who had just reported for duty.
“I watched everyone leave for the premiere,” Arlene said, rolling up her sleeves to pitch in with the
cooking. “I hope Ben Carmody will like Cathy. I’ve
asked her to stop by for the midnight supper.”
Judith’s mouth fell open. “You have? But it’s supposed to be strictly for the movie people.”
“That’s all right,” Arlene replied. “Cathy’s going
to tend bar. She’s dressing as a panda.”
“Surely,” Renie remarked, “that costume will
conceal her charms.”
“And hide her flaws,” Arlene replied. “Mystery,
that’s what intrigues men. Ben will be able to see
her very attractive hands. She can’t wear paws if
she’s going to mix drinks.”
Judith didn’t contest Arlene’s decision. If Cathy
Rankers played bartender, Judith and Joe would not
have to share her duties. For the next few hours the
women worked side by side until eleven o’clock when
all was in virtual readiness.
“I’m already exhausted,” Renie announced, leaning
against the sink. “Is Bill still napping on the sofa?”
“Yes,” Judith replied. “So’s Carl. On the other sofa.
Joe’s watching TV upstairs. He should be down in a
few minutes. Unless he’s napping, too.”
“Hey,” Renie said, suddenly rejuvenated and jumping away from the sink. “Let’s turn the TV on to
see—”
The cupboard door behind her sprang open, narrowly missing her head.
“Oops!” Renie exclaimed, then firmly closed the
door. “I wish you’d fix that thing.”
“Me too,” Judith agreed. “If Joe doesn’t give it a go,
I’ll have to call Mr. Tolvang next week. Say, do you
think the premiere is on the news?”
“Probably,” Renie replied, testing the cupboard door
to make sure it was shut.
Judith clicked on the small color set she kept on the
counter near her computer. Mavis Lean-Brodie, a familiar face from murders past, was making dire predictions
