The Unkindest Cut - By Honor Hartman Page 0,26

go in fifteen minutes.’’ I glanced back at the air vent. ‘‘But just to be safe, when I go downstairs, I think I’d better tell someone at the front desk there might be a dead mouse in the air vent.’’

Sophie grimaced again before pointing toward the bathroom. I took the hint.

I lived up to my promise, because fifteen minutes later, at ten minutes to eight, I followed Sophie out of our bedroom to the door of the suite.

‘‘What about Marylou? Have you talked to her this morning?’’

Sophie shook her head. ‘‘I peeked in on her a few minutes ago, and she was sound asleep. I’m betting she played bridge until after midnight, but she’ll be up in time to play again this morning. I think the duplicate sessions start at nine thirty.’’

We were stepping into the hall when the phone rang in our bedroom. ‘‘Oh, just let it ring,’’ Sophie said. ‘‘I doubt it’s anything important.’’

‘‘No, let me get it,’’ I said, hurrying back into the suite. ‘‘It’ll just take a minute.’’

Sighing, Sophie stepped back inside to wait.

I picked up the phone on about the fourth ring.

‘‘Hello,’’ I said.

‘‘Emma, is that you?’’ It was Jackie, the cat sitter.

‘‘Yes, Jackie, it’s me,’’ I said, and my stomach began to knot up. Something was wrong with one of the cats.

‘‘It’s not an emergency,’’ Jackie said, responding to the note of concern in my voice.

‘‘What is it?’’ Sophie had followed me to the door of our bedroom.

‘‘Hang on a second, Jackie,’’ I said. Covering the mouthpiece with one hand, I told Sophie, ‘‘You go on down to breakfast. It’s Jackie. I’ll talk to her and then I’ll come down and join you.’’

‘‘Is everything okay?’’

‘‘She said it’s not an emergency,’’ I replied. I motioned for her to go on. Shaking her head slightly, she turned and disappeared.

‘‘Sorry, Jackie, I was just telling Sophie to go on to breakfast. Now, what’s going on?’’

‘‘The cats are fine,’’ Jackie said. ‘‘I didn’t mean to alarm you by calling you so early.’’

‘‘That’s okay,’’ I said, relieved. ‘‘If the cats are fine, though, is something else wrong?’’

‘‘It’s my mother,’’ Jackie said, sounding apologetic. ‘‘She lives in Dallas, and she’s got to go into the hospital for some tests. My mother wants me to come and stay with her, and I can’t say no.’’

‘‘Well, of course,’’ I said. ‘‘I understand completely. Your place is with your mother.’’

‘‘Thank you,’’ Jackie said. ‘‘I wanted to let you know about it, and I also wanted to let you know that I’ve arranged for a good friend of mine to take over for me.’’ She paused, and when I didn’t respond immediately, she went on, ‘‘I’ve known her for over twenty years, and she loves cats. I know she’ll take really good care of Olaf and Hilda for you.’’

‘‘Jackie,’’ I said, ‘‘if you vouch for her, then I’m sure she’ll be just fine. I appreciate your taking care of this. You go on to Dallas and look after your mother.’’

‘‘Thanks, Emma,’’ Jackie said, sounding greatly relieved. ‘‘Kathy has your numbers, and I’m going to take her over to your place to meet Olaf and Hilda. I’ll go over everything with her there, and then I’ll head for Dallas.’’

‘‘Drive carefully,’’ I said. I didn’t envy Jackie the long and boring drive from Houston to Dallas.

After another round of assurances on both sides, we hung up. I had a few qualms about my cats being in the care of someone I had never met, but I did trust Jackie’s judgment. So I fussed at myself for being a worrywart.

‘‘Go get yourself some breakfast,’’ I said aloud. ‘‘You’ll feel better once you’ve had some coffee.’’

I left the bedroom, trying not to laugh at myself. I paused for a moment in the living room. Still no peep out of Marylou’s room.

Stepping out into the hall, I pulled the door shut quietly behind me. As I moved down the hall toward the elevator, I glanced to my left at Avery Trowbridge’s door. I remembered the voices I thought I had dreamed last night, and I wondered again whether what I heard had come from this suite.

I stopped in front of Trowbridge’s door. There were six pieces of paper taped to his door, two across and three down. Examining them briefly, I saw that they were schedules of his lessons, and I saw my name, along with those of Bart and Bob, in the nine o’clock slot for this morning.

Then I realized the door was every so slightly ajar, and