For a moment I couldn’t get past “Ryan Rosie.” Was Wendy trying to make me feel like a little girl again? Was using my pet name code? You’re my beloved baby sister, so don’t think you’re going to get the best of me?

And what could ever be funny about a murder?

Sophie pointed at the phone, and I realized I’d been silent too long. “Look, Wendy, I’m having problems finding any humor in taking care of your daughters while our father recovers from bypass surgery.”

“Do you think I’m having a good old time? I’m not lying on a beach working on my tan.”

I had purposely mentioned her daughters and my father. She hadn’t taken the bait and asked about either. “Then where are you? And when are you coming home?”

When she didn’t answer, I took a gamble. “Does this have to do with the plastic surgeon who was murdered in New Mexico?”

“You know about that? Has somebody called there?”

“Nobody’s called or contacted me.”

“I guess you’re just good at digging for details. That’s why I called you in the first place.”

“Well?”

A deep sigh resonated through the phone. “The whole thing is crazy. Beyond crazy. First, I didn’t murder anybody. You have to believe me. But yes, that’s why I’m afraid to come home.”

“I need the story.” I resisted adding “now.”

“You have time to listen? It might take a while.”

I avoided looking at Sophie. “I do.”

“At the end of my trip, I met a woman who worked at Golden Aspen. She mentioned that management was trying to find a buyer after an unsuccessful reorganization last year, and she hoped she could keep her job once it changed hands. She said management was desperate, and the resort would be a bargain for the right company.”

My father had said something about Golden Aspen reorganizing. So far I was with her.

“So you went to check it out?” I asked.

“I was in Phoenix by then, and I had some time before my flight back to Florida. She encouraged me to drive over and see the place for myself. She hoped if she helped me, and Gracey Group became the new owner, I’d put in a good word for her. I guess I hinted I would try. Anyway, she told me she would show me around, and I could stay in her guest room for the night. Only, she called when I was practically in Santa Fe and said she’d had an emergency and had to fly to Washington for a week, maybe more, but she told me to take a good look when I got to Golden Aspen. She’d answer any questions when she got back.”

“So you registered at the resort and spent a night or two?”

“No, she left a key to her apartment where I could find it.”

I was watching Sophie, and she shrugged. Now we knew why Wendy’s name hadn’t been on a guest list. I felt a wave of relief.