A Body to Die For (35 page)

After about ten minutes, Danny entered the room and walked directly across to the table where I stood. There was an odd brightness
to her eyes, as if the strain of the night were finally getting to her.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m shutting down the inn,” she said resolutely. “There’s a madman on the loose, and I’m not giving him another chance to
hurt anyone here.”

“But what about the guests?” I asked.

She explained that she and the inn manager, whom she’d called to the scene, had been given permission by the police to use
one of the offices. They were going to call other hotels in the area and make arrangements for guests to stay there. I asked
her if she needed help, and she said it would be best if they did it alone because they knew personnel at some of the hotels
and could call in favors.

The next hour was awful. Danny went off to execute her evacuation plan, and I was left to ruminate and feel the fire spreading
through my throat. I asked permission once to go to my room and was told no way by the patrol cop. Despite my body’s aching
from the cold, I was anxious to be doing something, anything, and I felt frustrated I couldn’t.

Gradually the crowd in the lounge thinned. People were escorted away to be interviewed by the police. Eric left, moving by
me without ever acknowledging my presence. Danny came into the room periodically, looking for guests in order to announce
what their new accommodations would be. One woman had a hissy fit when she learned that she and her husband would be finishing
up their romantic getaway at the Days Inn nine miles away. Danny, looking totally spent, made no attempt to mollify her.

It was midnight when Danny and I finally departed, with only the cops left behind. I was dressed in jeans by then, having
been allowed to run upstairs to my room with a police escort and stuff my things into my bag. Danny and I agreed that I would
follow her in my Jeep. As we stepped outside, we saw that the far end of the parking lot and the adjoining wooded area were
cordoned off with yellow police tape and lit up like a movie set. Since both of our cars were in the front area, there was
no trouble getting them. Danny pulled out first, creeping along at a snail’s pace, and I followed behind her.

She had told me earlier that her place was secluded, and she wasn’t kidding. It was a one-story bungalow set back in some
woods, about ten minutes farther from town. As we pulled in the driveway, a security light came on and she hit her brakes
suddenly. A man was climbing from a car parked near her garage. My stomach started to knot. As he stepped out of the shadows,
I saw that it was George.

D
ANNY ROLLED DOWN
her window as George approached her car. I just stayed where I was, my hand on the door handle, ready to do something if
it was necessary. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but after a moment Danny shook her head adamantly and then George
slunk off, climbed into his car, and backed out of the driveway. He looked over in my direction as he drove by—and glared
at me.

I pulled my Jeep next to Danny’s car and hurriedly joined her on the driveway. As she unlocked the door of the house, I stood
with my back to her, scanning the dense foliage at the perimeter of the yard. I couldn’t wait to get inside.

A light had been left on in the living room, and Danny quickly turned on others. Her house wasn’t large, but it was charming,
with lots of rustic antique pieces and Provence-style prints. There was a comfy living room and a large open kitchen and dining
area with a fireplace. I guessed that down the hall were a couple of bedrooms.

“Do you want anything to drink, Bailey?” Danny’s voice cracked as she spoke.

“Just some water. What did George want?”

“Not wine? I’m going to pour myself a big glass of white wine.”

“Sure, that would be great.” Though I felt so awful—from my cold and everything else—that I doubted it would help.”

“You asked about George,” she said as she opened the refrigerator. “He said he’s been waiting here since he heard the news
on the radio. He wanted to see what he could do to help.”

“But you told him to go?”

“Yes, I can’t trust him. Not after those phone calls to Anna. I need him so much right now, but—”

She was rummaging through the fridge, her back to me, and suddenly she stopped and her shoulders began to shake. As she pulled
out the bottle of white wine, she was crying hard.

“I can’t believe Natalie is dead,” she said, sobbing. “I feel responsible. I should have closed the inn down earlier.”

I went to her and put my arms around her.

“Danny, you can’t blame yourself. It wouldn’t have made any sense to close the inn down then. Life has to go on.”

She managed to pour two glasses of white wine, her hands shaking so much that some of it splashed onto the counter. She wiped
it up with a paper towel and then used the same towel to dab at her eyes.

“Natalie was so young and innocent and full of life,” she said. “Why would someone do this to her?”

“I don’t have an answer,” I said. “Either there really
is
a homicidal maniac on the loose or else there’s a connection between the two women that we just don’t know about. Let me
ask you a question. When we were talking about the case in the lobby with Beck, earlier in the evening, Natalie gave you a
kind of worried look at one point. I couldn’t tell exactly why.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Danny said.

“She shot you a look with her eyes. It was when I said something about Anna. I was asking Beck why he wasn’t considering any
other angles. At the time I thought she was just surprised by the contentiousness of the conversation, but now I’m wondering
if something suddenly occurred to her.”

She furrowed her brow in puzzlement. “I’m sorry—I don’t remember anything like that.”

I didn’t push it. It was clear she couldn’t recall the moment, and besides, I was a walking basket case. I asked her to show
me to my room, and she led me down the hall to a guest room. I hugged her good night and crawled into bed without bothering
to take off anything except my shoes and jeans.

Propped against the pillows, I nearly chugged the rest of the wine, hoping it would knock me out. But it didn’t. I lay in
bed with a pit in my stomach the size of a ham. My head was stuffed and my throat pulsed in pain. I wished I could sob like
Danny, but nothing came out.

The next morning, I woke with a jolt to find Danny sitting on the edge of my bed. I knew it had to be late because the harsh
light of an overcast day filled the room.

“What time is it?” I asked groggily. My throat felt raw and my head hurt a bit; but, surprisingly, my cold had not gotten
any worse. It seemed to be idling, like a car at a red light.

“It’s eleven.”

“Oh God, sorry,” I said. “I don’t think I fell asleep until five. What’s going on? Any news about Natalie?”

“I spoke to her father. He said that someone broke her neck. And wait till you hear this. He also told me that Natalie had
been on several dates with Eric recently.”

“
No!
” I exclaimed.

“Apparently the police have taken him downtown for questioning. Maybe he’s some kind of a madman, Bailey.”

“This sheds a new light on everything,” I said. “I mean, I always wondered if Eric could have killed Anna, but I never once
considered him a suspect in Natalie’s death. Is this the first you’ve heard they were dating?”

“Yes. Natalie often chats about her personal life, but she never said anything about this. Maybe she thought I’d object because
of the work connection.”

“Could be. What’s your plan for today, by the way? I’m supposed to show at the police station at some point.”

She insisted that the first thing she wanted to do was fix me something to eat. After that she planned to make her own statement
to the police and visit Natalie’s parents. Later she would head to the inn. Her manager was there now, working with another
staffer to cancel reservations for the next several weeks, and she wanted to assist him as well as work out a plan on what
to do with the staff and everything else.

“Are you sure you want to shut down the inn this way?” I asked. “If Eric turns out to be the killer, you don’t have to worry
anymore.”

“But we don’t know for sure yet. And until we do, I can’t risk anyone else’s life.”

When I entered the kitchen a few minutes later, I saw that Danny hadn’t so much made me lunch as set out some things for me—fruit,
a wedge of cheese, slices of salami. She was still pulling things from the fridge, dressed in her poncho.

“You go, Danny, and I’ll deal with the food. And look, I want to help in some way today. What can I do? I don’t want to just
sit around here cooling my heels.”

“But I thought you were planning to return to New York today.”

“The police may tell me I’m not free to leave yet. Plus, I can’t just abandon you in the middle of this. Why don’t we play
it by ear. If they end up arresting Eric, I can head back to New York first thing tomorrow.”

She was grateful that I wasn’t leaving yet. She said that once she arrived at the inn, she would determine if they could use
my help making calls. She’d phone me to let me know.

After she’d gone, I did the one thing I was dreading most. I called the number of Jack’s sublet in New York. Even if the police
gave me clearance to leave later today, I couldn’t just walk out on Danny in the middle of a second murder. And that meant
I wouldn’t be seeing Jack in New York tonight. Despite my confusion about him, I really had been eager to be with him again.
I yearned for the thoughtful questions and wisdom Jack had such a knack for.

I was expecting I might get a machine at this hour, but to my surprise, he answered. I blurted out what had happened and explained
that I would have to delay my return to New York.

“But I should be able to get back tomorrow,” I said in a rush at the end. “You could come over and I’ll make you an early
dinner. I’ll do spaghetti Vongole. It’s my specialty.”

What followed was not the sound of him licking his chops in anticipation of my cuisine, but rather utter silence.

“Jack?”

“I’m here. I’m sorry things are such a mess up there for your friend. Just be careful, okay? There’s obviously someone very
dangerous on the loose.”

“But what about Sunday? Should we try for that?”

“Let’s not make any firm plans right now—things are obviously complicated for you up there. Just call me if you make it back
tomorrow.”

“You sound kind of annoyed. I really have no choice, you know, but to stay here today.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that. It’s just hard to know which part is obligation and which part is Bailey with cold feet.”

“Oh please, Jack,” I said. “You don’t call me for a month and a half and then you sound put out because I have to change our
plans once.”

“You know me. I get paid to look at patterns.” He said it in a light tone, as if he were trying to keep the conversation from
getting testy, but all it did was annoy me even more.

“Well, maybe you ought to look at your own, Jack. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I nearly slammed the phone down. First Beck, now him. They’d both been into me until the first second I wasn’t behaving exactly
as they wanted. In five days I’d managed to go from two hot romantic prospects to none.

After I hung up, I called police headquarters. The woman who answered put me on hold and then suggested I come down immediately.
I was absolutely dreading seeing Beck again. But as it turned out, my statement was taken by an older cop named Davis in a
hideous plaid sports jacket and a tie so wide, it could have doubled as a lobster bib. I kept glancing around surreptitiously,
looking for both Eric and Beck, but I never got a glimpse of either one of them.

“Is Detective Beck around?” I asked as I was led back to the lobby. As much as I wasn’t looking forward to face time with
him, I needed to tell him about the release massage. Detective Davis informed me that Beck wasn’t available—whatever that
meant—but that if I called in the early evening, I might be able to reach him.

I let myself back into Danny’s house using the set of keys she’d loaned me. I nibbled some more at the lunch platter, thinking
about Eric. Something about him killing both women seemed off to me. Rejected suitors sometimes murdered the women they were
obsessed with. But it was hard to imagine Eric being obsessed with Anna, killing her, and then quickly becoming just as obsessed
with Natalie. Beyond that, there was still the matter of Anna’s mystery date the night of the murder. It didn’t seem as if
she would have accepted a date with Eric, and even if she had, I doubted she’d be getting all decked out for it. The more
I considered it, the tougher the time I had buying the idea of Eric as the killer.

At four Danny called to say that she was still at the inn, would be there for a while longer, and had several staffers working
with her, so things were under control. She planned to be home by six and would pick up dinner on the way. Bored to death,
I took a shower and changed clothes. As I rummaged through my overnight bag, I realized to my dismay that I’d left three or
four pieces of clothing hanging in my closet at the inn. But it was just the excuse I was looking for. I decided to drive
over to the inn and retrieve them. Before I could pick up the phone to call Danny, it rang. Cordelia was on the other line.