from release and postpone its general opening for a
month.”
Judith finally found her voice. “What does all this
have to do with the guests not being able to leave?”
Vito tried to look apologetic, but failed. “I’m afraid
I can’t discuss that with you at present. But I’m sure
you realize that the studio wants to conduct its own investigation into the cause of Bruno’s death. You must
be aware that the medical examiner’s report is inconclusive.”
“We’re aware,” Joe said with a dour expression.
“Good.” Vito stood up, ever mindful of the crease in
his trousers. “I hope this doesn’t sound crass, but I believe you have a vacant room?”
“Ah . . .” Judith’s jaw dropped. “You mean Bruno’s?
Yes, but—”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll spend the night there,”
Vito interposed. “Right now I have to head back
downtown to talk with the rest of the company at the
Cascadia Hotel. Don’t bother to show me out. I know
the way.” He slipped his sunglasses back on and gave
both Flynns the slightly sinister smile. “I’m a quick
study.”
Despite the lawyer’s assertion, Judith and Joe followed him as far as the entry hall. When the door had
closed behind Vito, Joe put an arm around his wife.
“Let’s go into the parlor in case the guests decide to
come downstairs and commandeer the living room.”
In the gray autumn light with the dead ashes in the
grate and the single tall window streaked with rain, the
room had lost its usual cheerfulness. The parlor
seemed bleak, matching Judith’s mood.
“Whatever are we going to do?” she groaned, slipping into one of the two matching side chairs. “Will
the studio’s investigation make us the culprits?”
“I’ve no idea,” Joe admitted, “but one thing’s for
sure—Stone Cold Sam Cairo isn’t going to rush
around on our account. He’s laughing up his sleeve
over our dilemma because he hates me. Resents me,
too, which is maybe why he hates me. I always had a
better ratio of cases solved than he did. It was a competition to Sam, one-on-one. The bottom line is we
can’t rely on him.”
Judith felt too dazed to respond.
“So we’ll do our own investigating. I’ve got the experience, and you’ve got . . . a way with people.” Joe
lowered his gaze. It was difficult for him to admit that
his wife’s amateur tactics could ferret out murderers.
“Between us, we may be able to get ourselves out of
this jam.”
“You mean,” Judith croaked, “we informally interrogate them?”
“You do,” Joe said, patting her hand. “I’ll take a
