Sara gasped. "Look at that wonderful porch and those lovely rocking chairs. I simply must try one of them out."

Monk parked the Land Rover in the center of the stone circle drive and rushed to open the doors for his passengers.

"If you stand on the porch and look in the window, you can see through the house to the vista beyond," he pointed out.

"Oh, it is lovely," Anne said. "It looks brand-new," she added as she walked to the wall on the side of the drive and looked down

at the trees below.

"It was built four years ago."

"How in heaven's name did they get all the glass up these mountains?" Sara asked.

"Very carefully, I would imagine," Carrie replied.

"I believe you ladies will be very comfortable here," Monk said.

"Oh, yes, we will be." Sara was so enthusiastic that Carrie wouldn't have been surprised if she'd started clapping her hands.

Wasn't Sara used to such ambience? She was a judge, for heaven's sake. Surely she had money. And obviously so did Anne. Neither one of them would have been able to afford the spa if they weren't well-off.

"If you ladies would like to go inside, there's champagne chilling for you. I'll bring the luggage in."

Carrie opened the door and led the way inside. She noticed the thin wires up against the house and assumed they were part of

the alarm system.

"Watch your step," she said. "Don't trip over the wires."

The floor plan was open, very spacious. To the left of the huge marble entry was a magnificent spiral staircase that reached up three stories. Light flooded the room, and when they raised their eyes higher, they could see the golden clouds through a long rectangular skylight.

"Isn't the staircase beautiful?" Sara said. "The wood… the steps, they're twice the length and depth of any I've ever seen. It must have cost a fortune to build it," she added. "Look at the railing. The craftsmanship is exceptional."

Carrie agreed. Then Anne called to them. "The mountains look like they're on fire with the sunset. Come see." Even Anne, a difficult woman to please, couldn't contain her enthusiasm.

Carrie stood in the foyer taking in the view. Colorful oriental rugs-high-quality rugs-were scattered across the living room's

pale brown, marble floor. In harmony with the mountains, the furnishings were done in soft browns and beiges. The stone

fireplace was at least sixteen feet high and similar, she thought, to the fireplace in the villain's house she'd admired when she'd watched one of her favorite movies, North by Northwest. The room was square like the living room in the movie too. No, this

one was much better, the furniture updated and more exquisite.

Directly ahead, the sun was setting, and the burst from the fiery ball filled the room with a soft orange hue.

"I feel like I'm in heaven," Sara said.

"If you go to the top of that spiral staircase, you will be in heaven," Carrie joked.

Anne spotted the silver bucket with a bottle of champagne on the sideboard. There was a beautiful crystal vase with three long-stemmed, bloodred roses next to it. The petals were just beginning to open. "Shall we have a glass of champagne?"

"But of course," Sara answered.

The three women stood in front of the window overlooking the panorama as Anne struggled to get the bottle uncorked. She laughed nervously when the cork popped and the liquid bubbled over, then carefully filled each Waterford crystal flute.

"We should have a toast," Carrie said.

"Good idea," Sara agreed.

She and Anne lifted their glasses and waited for Carrie to do the honors.

"To us," she said. "May all our dreams come true."

"That's lovely," Anne said.

They sank down onto the plush, down-filled sofas and sipped their champagne^ making idle chitchat, carefully avoiding any personal topics, while Monk carried their luggage upstairs to their suites. Carrie was still feeling a little nauseous, so she didn't drink more than one tiny sip.

Monk joined them ten minutes later with a tray of canapes. As he was placing the linen napkins next to the tray on the coffee table, Carrie heard a door close.

She looked toward the hallway leading from the dining room and saw a woman wearing a black dress walk into the kitchen.

"Maids have arrived," she remarked to Sara.

"Do have one of these cucumber canapes," Anne suggested. She'd just finished eating the bite-size treat. "They're quite tasty."

Carrie didn't want to tell either woman she wasn't feeling well, and she certainly wasn't going to admit she'd gotten carsick.

"Yes, I will," she said. She popped the little sandwich into her mouth, barely chewing it before swallowing it down. "It is good,"

she said.

She couldn't make herself eat another and became even more queasy watching Anne eat two salmon puffs as well as the cucumber sandwiches, and Sara devour twice as many.

Within minutes they were all yawning. Monk noticed. "If you ladies will follow me, I'll show you to your rooms," he said as he leaned down to turn on one of the table lamps. Now that the sun was going down, the room was filled with shadows.

"I am so sleepy," Anne said.

"It must be the mountain air," Sara suggested. "I'm feeling lethargic myself."

They followed Monk to the spiral staircase. Carrie looked up and remarked, "Who would have thought stairs could be a work of art."

"I hate stairs," Anne said. "The next house I build will be a sprawling ranch."

Sara and Carrie ignored her comment. Monk drew their attention when he said, "I've unpacked your overnight bags. Mrs. Trapp, you and Judge Collins will be in suites on the second level on opposite ends of the floor. Mrs. Salvetti, you're one floor up. I hope you'll all find the accommodations satisfactory."

Anne followed Monk, then came Carrie, and Sara, gripping the banister for support, was the last in line.

"I feel like I've been in this house before," Sara said. "Yet I've never seen a spiral staircase like this, so I don't know why I feel that way."

"I think it's the fireplace," Carrie said. She paused on a step to look down into the living room once again. "Did you ever see the movie North by Northwest It starred Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint, and in the climax, they had to climb out on the presidents' faces?"

"I do remember. The stone fireplace is very like the one in the movie. That must be why it seems so familiar to me."

"I never saw the movie," Anne said.

Carrie was floored. "You've got to be kidding. It was one of Hitchcock's best."

Anne shrugged. "I was busy running my business," she said. "I didn't have time to go to movies."

"But it's a classic. It's been on television at least a hundred times," Sara said.

"Oh, I never watch television."

Carrie didn't know how to relate to the woman. Anne sounded as though she were boasting about the fact that she didn't watch television. Carrie's life revolved around networks and sponsors. She looked up at Anne now as if she were an alien. Not watch television or go to the movies? Amazing. No wonder the woman was so dull.

She didn't feel at all guilty about her snap judgment. Anne, unknowingly, had just insulted everything that Carrie worked for or believed in.

Monk showed Sara into her suite first.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," Sara said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," Carrie called as she followed Monk down the long hallway.

He opened Anne's door for her, and then turned to Carrie. "Your suite is directly above Judge Collins's," he said. He led her up

the staircase to the next level.

"So there are four full suites?" Carrie asked.

"Yes," he answered.

They reached her door, and Monk stepped back to let her go inside. The large bedroom with an adjoining sitting room was a soothing amber color. Two overstuffed chairs flanked a fireplace, and the four-poster bed made of light, burled pine was