my flashlight. I turned on the beam, walked to the bedside phone, and hit the button on the phone pad for the front desk. It rang, and rang, and rang. "No one's answering."
"Listen. The music's stopped. I bet they had to shut down the entertainment. Those cloggers could trample each other to death in the dark. That's probably where the desk clerk is. In the dining room, directing traffic with a big flashlight."
I hung up. "Maybe you're right." I flashed the light on her. "EH!" Not only was she right, she was buck naked. "Where are your clothes?"
"In the bathroom. What's the problem? You used to see me naked all the time."
"Your hardware was different back then. I'm not used to the new stuff yet."
"You better cough up a robe for me then, because I'm not going back into that bathroom until the lights come back on."
"You outweigh me by ninety pounds, Jack! I own nothing that'll fit you."
"I love that little teal wrap you're wearing. That might fit. It's loose enough."
I sighed with defeat. What the heck. My evening was ruined anyway. I shrugged out of my wrap and set it on the bed for her. "Here it is. Knock yourself out." I pulled a pair of Joe Boxer pajama bottoms and a cotton top out of the dresser drawer, and yanked them on. "How's it fit?" I asked as I aimed the narrow beam back at her.
"You tell me." She twirled in place like a music-box dancer. It was too short, too tight, and entirely the wrong color, but at least she wasn't naked anymore.
"Perfect," I said, cursing under my breath when my little Maglite suddenly dimmed. I slapped it against my palm and rotated the head, narrowing and widening the beam.
"Looks like your batteries are getting low. Do you have matches here someplace?"
"By the ashtray on the desk." I heard commotion in the hall as I panned the light left and right over the fireplace. Excited voices. High-pitched laughter.
"I told you they must have ended the entertainment," said Jackie from the direction of the desk. "Party's over. Everyone's headed back to their rooms."
My beam was holding steady, but as I focused on the gilt-framed painting of the aristocratic lord with his horse, hounds, and frolicking children, I slatted my eyes in astonishment, noticing something I hadn't seen before. "Uff da," I said in an undertone. I hurried closer for a better look and squinted up at the painting, but it was too high on the wall for a close-up inspection. "Jack, come over here. And bring a straightback chair. You need to drag this painting off the wall for me."
A hesitation, then, "Oh, I get it. This is part of the pajama party festivities. You take a painting off the wall and hang it in another place and see if anyone notices." She lumbered through the darkness with the requested chair and set it down on the outer hearth. "Girls really get off on some pretty stupid stuff. I think getting bombed at the frat house sounds like a lot more fun."
She stepped onto the chair and braced a hand on either side of the painting, hefting it slightly. "Whoa. This baby's heavy." She wiggled it up, down, left and right. "It's hung up on something." She wrenched it back and forth several times before she was finally able to free it from its wall hooks and hand it down to me. She was right about the painting being heavy. It had to weigh a good fifty pounds. I leaned it against the stonework and steadied the beam of my Maglite on the youthful figures in the foreground.
"Okay. What do you notice that's different about this painting?" I asked in my best Sherlock Holmes imitation.
Jackie hopped down from the chair and gave the picture the once-over. "It's dusty."
"Besides that. Look at the three children. Do you see anything unusual about them?"
"They're not fighting with each other. That's pretty unusual for kids of that age."
"Their feet, Jack. What's odd about their feet?"
She hunkered down, studying the composition intently. "Oh, wow. Their toes look like they're all stuck together. I've heard of that condition. There's a name for it, but I can't remember what it is."
"What would you say if I told you Ethel Minch has the same condition?"
"I'd say she probably saved a lot of money not having to buy beach thongs every year. Which reminds me. Do you happen to know what room she's in? I bet