“Go where?” Ellen was puzzled.

“Marc said I could use Johnny’s place since I’m stuck up here with the rest of you.”

“But they’ve packed up all of Johnny’s sheets and bedding. Why don’t you stay here with me?”

The moment the words were out of Ellen’s mouth, she wished she hadn’t said them.

“Do you want to rethink that, Ellen? I know you’re offering your extra bedroom, but some of your neighbors might talk.”

He was reading her mind again! Ellen could feel the color rise to her cheeks. “Forget the neighbors. If you stay here, we can start cleaning up the workroom first thing in the morning.”

“That’s fine with me if you’re sure it won’t cause any problems.” Walker got the wine bottle from the kitchen and refilled her glass. “Take this to bed with you, Ellen. I’m going to start on that cleanup before I turn in.”

Ellen took his advice and finished the wine before she got ready for bed and turned off the lights. It was comforting, knowing that he was only a few steps away. Perhaps she wouldn’t have another nightmare tonight. She’d been absolutely right to tell him she didn’t care what the neighbors thought. It was time she started living her own life.

NINE

After two hours of packing, Clayton had called them all into Johnny’s living room. “Any luck?”

Laureen shook her head. “Nothing in the kitchen. We even rubbed a pencil over the pad of paper by Johnny’s kitchen phone.”

“Why did you do a silly thing like that?” Vanessa giggled.

“It’s not silly at all.” Hal sighed as he explained. “When a person writes, it can leave an impression on the paper underneath. I thought you said you watched Columbo.”

“I must have missed that one. So what did it say?”

“Where’s Ellen?”

“That’s what it said? Where’s Ellen?”

“No.” Alan looked as exasperated as Hal. “We just want to know where Ellen is.”

Jayne spoke up. “Walker took her home. She was all dragged out.”

“Good. We didn’t want to say this in front of her, but one of Johnny’s girlfriends left him a note. It said, Roses are red, violets are blue. Thanks a lot for the screw. And violets was misspelled.”

“That figures.” Marc snorted. “Johnny never picked his girlfriends for their brainpower.”

Laureen noticed that Vanessa’s cheeks were very red. “How do you spell violets, Vanessa?”

“V . . . I . . . oh, who cares.” Vanessa glared at Laureen. “I’m sure you know how to spell it. Tell her what we found, Hal. That’s much more important. It proves Johnny never left on that plane!”

Hal nodded. “We found Johnny’s airplane tickets. One-way to Italy, still in the folder with his itinerary.”

Laureen shrugged. “That doesn’t prove a thing. Johnny might have forgotten them and asked for duplicates at the airport. Or maybe he decided he wouldn’t bother with paper tickets and downloaded e-tickets. I’ve done that a couple of times.”

“So has Gracie.” Moira grinned at her roommate, who was starting to blush. “Except Gracie left the e-tickets at home, too. But we don’t think Johnny left on that plane, either. Grace and I found his telephone bill and there’s not one single overseas call.”

“What does that have to do with the price of apples?” Marc frowned.

“It’s just strange, that’s all,” Grace pointed out. “When my father died, I spent a lot of time on the phone making arrangements with my mother. Of course I tried to call after five when the rates were down, but there were so many things to take care of and the lawyers’ offices were closed after three because there’s a two-hour time difference between Vegas and Indiana and I don’t think it was daylight savings time or there would have been three hours because they don’t have it there, you know. So anyway, my total phone bill was simply . . .”

“I told you those tickets we found were important!” Vanessa interrupted. “Johnny wouldn’t leave without calling Italy to tell his mother what time to meet the plane!”

Clayton held up his hand. “We may be jumping to erroneous conclusions. Johnny could have called from the casino.”

“We thought of that,” Grace continued, “but I was doing a show for Johnny then and I know he never got to the casino more than fifteen minutes before his show because his parking spot was right next to mine. They’ve got the nerve to call it executive parking, but it’s really not because all the spots on the top level are uncovered and if it rains, your car gets wet and you have to walk all the way across . . . Okay, Moira. I know I’m babbling. Anyway, I used to see Johnny pull in at seven forty-five and my girls complained that he left right after the nine o’clock show without even signing autographs.”

“So what does that mean?” Vanessa looked blank.

“It means he couldn’t have called from the casino,” Moira explained. “There’s a six- or seven-hour time difference, and I don’t think Johnny would call his relatives in the middle of the night.”

Clayton looked impressed. “That’s very astute!”

“But it still doesn’t prove anything.” Marc spoke up. “Johnny could have called from his cell phone, or a girlfriend’s phone, or his relatives could have called him. I packed up the stuff in Johnny’s bedroom and I’m positive he left. His suitcases are gone and he took his clothes.”

“His toilet articles are gone, too,” Rachael added. “Toothpaste, toothbrush, comb, razor, antiperspirant.”

Marc looked pleased. “There you go! A man doesn’t pack a suitcase unless he’s planning on taking a trip.”

“A point well taken.” Clayton nodded. “On the other hand, if the two men Vanessa so graphically described engaged in any type of foul play, they may have confiscated the items in question.”

“Huh?” Vanessa frowned.

Rachael assumed her role as interpreter again. “Clay’s saying that if the thugs got to Johnny, they’d take the suitcases to make us think Johnny had left.”

“That’s what I said in the first place!” Vanessa was so excited, she almost shouted. “I told you those two guys looked mean enough to murder him!”

Hal grinned. “Sure, Vanessa. But what did they do with the body?”

“They dug a hole and they buried it. That’s what you do with dead people.”

“They didn’t dig a hole up here. The ground’s been frozen for over two months.”

“Then they took him somewhere else to bury him. Or maybe . . .” Vanessa jumped to her feet. “I know! They chopped Johnny up in pieces and put him in the incinerator! I saw a movie where they did that. Do I win?”

“It’s not a game, child-bride. Is that possible, Alan? Could someone cremate a body in our incinerator?”

Alan shook his head. “No way. Our incinerator doesn’t reach temperatures that high. There’d still be big chunks of bone left behind.”

Vanessa made a face. “Oh, yuck! I know it was my idea, but I’m not going down there to look for Johnny’s bones.”

There was a long silence before Jayne spoke up. “Nobody has to look, Vanessa. There’s nothing in our incinerator except ashes.”

“But how do you know?”

Jayne’s face began to turn red. “Because I dropped something down there yesterday and I had to sift through the ashes to get it back.”

“Grandmother Lindstrom’s silver ice bucket?” Paul sighed as Jayne’s face turned even redder.

“Well . . . yes. But it only got one little dent that you can hardly notice. And I polished it afterward. I’m sorry, Paul. I promise I’ll never use it for a wastebasket again.”

Paul nodded even though he knew Jayne would forget. She seemed to lack respect for the silver his family had given them as a wedding present. She’d been thrilled to receive it and she kept it beautifully polished, but a few months after their marriage he’d found the coffee server doubling as a vase for flowers and the cream pitcher sitting on top of her piano holding pencils and pens. The only piece that had retained its original purpose was the candelabra and Paul knew that was only because Jayne had yet to find something that would fit into the holes. When he had objected, Jayne had informed him that silver wasn’t any fun if you kept it wrapped up in bags.