bishop that was poking into his backside. It was only Frank
Killegrew who showed immediate dismay, and for all the
wrong reasons.
“Where’d Nadia go? I said I could use a drink. What’s
wrong with that woman? Doesn’t she know who signs her
checks?”
“Leon used to,” Margo said. “As chief financial officer, he
signed all our checks.”
Killegrew glowered at Margo. “You know what I mean.
Didn’t Nadia go with you to the restroom a while ago?”
Margo shook her head. “She left the game room before I
did, Frank. You asked her to get you a coffee refill.”
“Which,” Killegrew declared with great umbrage, “she did
not do. Where’s her sense of loyalty?”
Ava struggled to get off the pool table, while Gene began
to shift nervously from foot to foot. Margo swung the suede
bag in an ominous gesture and Max started for the dining
room.
“She may still be in the kitchen,” Max said over his
shoulder. “I’ll check.”
“Not without a bodyguard,” Gene called out, and hurried
to join Max.
Russell swerved on the chessboard, sending several pawns
and a rook onto the floor. “Where’s Nadia?” he asked in a
vague, bewildered voice.
“Russell…” Margo began, but she sounded weary and went
mute.
Ava was hugging herself, her chin sunk into the high rolled
neck of her navy sweater. “I can’t…she couldn’t…Oh, God!”
Max and Gene returned via the corridor that led through
the laundry room to the kitchen. “She’s not anywhere we
could see,” Gene announced in a tense voice. “Should we
look in the basement?”
“Why,” Killegrew demanded, “would Nadia be in the
basement? There’s no coffee pot down there.” But the usual
bluster had gone out of him; he sounded frightened and unsure.
Judith was beginning to doubt the wisdom of keeping the
others in the dark. She plucked at the sleeve of Renie’s
sweatshirt and drew her back towards the lobby entrance.
“Maybe we should tell them,” she whispered.
Renie shook her head. “It’s too late. Let it slide.”
Margo was staring at her watch. “How long has Nadia
been gone? Half an hour?”
“More than that,” Killegrew responded. “It wasn’t quite
ten when I asked her to get me some more coffee. It’s bangup
eleven now. Six bells,” he added, but his voice broke on the
nautical reference.
Taking in Killegrew’s obvious distress, Gene Jarman joined
