Rhodes looked around. "When I was briefed, I was told you have two hostages. I only see one. I hope you haven't…"
Marvel laughed. "Oh, he's over there somewhere. I guess he forgot his manners. Kevin, say yo to the brother."
"Yo," came a voice from the shadowy region beneath the corner booth.
"Now, let's move along," Marvel continued. "Big Mama, you sit real still and keep an eye on the door. My man Rhodes and I are going into the kitchen where we've got ourselves some talking to do. If I happen to come out and find you or my main man up to some nonsense, I'll put a bullet in your ear. Are we clear?"
Dahlia growled something, but Rhodes was too close to fainting to pay any attention, and when Marvel gestured with the gun, he barely managed to stand up and head in the indicated direction.
"My wife's name is Carol," he said as he went into the kitchen, exceedingly conscious of the barrel in his back.
"Let's just get this over with as quickly as possible," Geri said with the perky determination of a kindergarten teacher. "Originally, I'd arranged for each of you to have a two-hour block in the kitchen for security reasons. However, it's really much too late for that, so we'll have two in the first slot and three in the second."
We had a good-sized group in the dining room. Gaylene sat alone at one table, painting her fingernails a subtle shade of screaming scarlet. At the next table, I sat with Ruby Bee, Estelle, Frannie, and Durmond. Frannie had announced that Catherine was ill, and Ruby Bee and Estelle had backed her up with such gushy agreement that I had no idea what was going on, although I doubted it was anything I'd appreciate. Brenda sat dejectedly between Lieutenant Henbit and one of his detectives. Kyle hovered behind Geri, no less relaxed than he'd been when mentioning his kneecaps. I realized he'd known for some time that Interspace was owned by the mob; his father had been less reticent than Geri's boss. Henbit had been reluctant to permit the contest, of course, and I'd had to take him to my room and present my arguments with enough skill to outshine the Broadway stars several blocks away. He'd finally admitted that it couldn't hurt to test some of my theories, called Geri in the hotel office and told her to round up the contestants, and then called his precinct to arrange for Brenda to be delivered in a fashion not unlike a pizza.
Durmond touched my knee beneath the table. "Are you sure this is the thing to do?"
Geri put down the clipboard in order to clap her hands, alleviating me from the need to answer that I had no idea whatsoever. "Please, let's all pay attention, shall we? If we insist on personal conversations, we'll be here all night, and I for one have plans for tomorrow that preclude this fleabag hotel." She glanced back as Rick came across the lobby. "Good, I'll use you as a judge, along with Kyle and that doorman person. I do hope that's acceptable to all of you, because I'm in charge and you really have no choice. The first two contestants will be Gaylene and Durmond. Come along and please don't dawdle."
The two obediently rose. Durmond looked unexcited at his big chance, but Gaylene giggled and waved, and she swept out of the dining room as if heading for the Miss America runway. The head count remained steady, however, as Rick and Cambria entered and sat down as far away from us as they could. Their conversation would have been diverting, had I been able to hear it. Rick was already damp, but drops of sweat were forming like pimples and he tugged at his ring so furiously that I had visions of the poor taxidermist in Wyoming or wherever. Cambria wasn't twinkling.
"I guess I'll check on Catherine," Frannie said, pushing back her chair.
"No one leaves the room." Henbit motioned to a figure beyond the French doors. "And that officer will encourage your compliance."
Frannie put her elbows on the table and cradled her face in her hands. Estelle patted her on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry. She'll be all right and will come on down as soon as she…freshens up."
"Sure she will," Ruby Bee said.
The lieutenant's presence did not encourage conversation, and we sat in uncomfortable silence for a long while. After what might have been half an hour, Catherine came out of the elevator, crossed the lobby, and sat down next to her mother. I'd hauled in enough teenagers to realize that, despite her purposeful motion and bland expression, she was under the influence of alcohol. On her face was a thick layer of pancake makeup that almost disguised a black eye.
Others could see it, too. Ruby Bee and Estelle began to whisper, and Brenda gaped as if Catherine were an alien. Henbit nodded at his minion.
Earlier I'd remembered why my flippant remark to the lieutenant had stirred up a sense of déjà vu. "I'm not my mother's keeper," I'd told him in the exact same tone I used on Jerome Appleton when he'd emerged from Catherine and Frannie's room. Frannie had been out shopping, however. Jerome had tried his bully routine on me because he'd been up to no good (in several senses of the phrase). I decided to risk the wrath of Henbit and see what I could learn about Catherine's most recent activities-and I knew just where to begin.
I tapped Ruby Bee's shoulder. "I called your room earlier and no one answered. I wanted to pass along a message from Eilene, all the way back in Maggody, Arkansas. It has to do with copper pipes."
"I guess I was showering," she said.
I looked at Estelle, who swallowed and said, "And I must have dozed off for a spell."
"The telephone didn't wake you up?" I gave them the full benefit of my incredulous gaze. "You've both been lying like a rug going on four days now, and it's beginning to get on my nerves. You couldn't have left the hotel. That gentleman in blue would have shot you in cold blood. Where were you?"
"Frannie's room," Ruby Bee said nervously. "We went down to have a nice chat about Kansas, and the town where she and Catherine live. It sounds like a mighty fine place."
I was going to see if Frannie would back up this latest lie, but she was whispering fiercely to her daughter, who was listening with a smile that…that I'd seen in my mirror a few hours earlier. Minus the frustration.
The suspects were present, and it wasn't difficult to settle on Rick. He now looked as if he were hearing the details of his upcoming live cremation, which he might well be, considering Cambria's moist tirade in his ear.
"Rick has a room on the third floor, doesn't he?" I said to Ruby Bee. Her twitchy shrug confirmed my hypothesis.
Geri came to the door. "Good, Catherine's here. I think we can speed things up, if we all work together." She consulted her clipboard. "Durmond's KoKo-Nut Kream Pie is almost ready to chill, and Gaylene has made enough KoKo-Nut Kabobs to allow all of you a sample. Isn't that lovely?" She was obviously much happier now that the contest was underway and she could see the light at the bow of the ferry. "Now we need Ruby Bee, Brenda, and Catherine in the kitchen. You may come if you wish, Frannie. If you please, ladies?"
Brenda glanced at Lieutenant Henbit, who nodded. As she passed our table, Ruby Bee joined her and murmured her condolences as they left (or one would think; she was more than capable of pedestrian interrogation). Catherine followed them, but at the last moment veered toward Kyle, wrapped her arms around his neck, and began to nuzzle his mouth and chin.
"Aren't you a little piggy?" she cooed.
Frannie yanked her back before Kyle could find a suitable response. As we stared, she slapped Catherine's face so sharply that the girl stumbled backward and fell across the sofa.
"Are you all right?" Geri gasped as she hurried across the lobby, knelt, and pushed Catherine's hair out of her face. This could have been motivated by compassion, but those of us with a cynical bent wondered if Geri was driven by terror that this somehow might delay the cookoff.