"What's that? I can't hear you." I jumped when the phone rang. "Would you get that, Emily?" Jane's voice echoed off the tiles. "It's probably Wally with a change of plans."

I walked to the nightstand and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

A beat went by. "To whom am I speaking, please?"

It wasn't Wally. He had a German/French/Italian accent. It was Etienne! "Oh! I'm so glad you called. This is Emily. We--"

"Emily, say nothing. Just listen to me. Get out of that room. Do you hear me? Put the receiver down and walk out the door. I'm in a car heading toward the hotel. I'll be there in a few minutes. No heroics, darling. Just get out. Ms. Hanson has killed one person, perhaps two. I won't have you be number three."

Ms. Hanson? Jane was the killer? No-no. That couldn't be right. It had to be Bernice. Nana and I had worked it all out. I paused. "Are you sure?"

"We have the analysis from Shirley Angowski's camera bag. Jane Hanson's fingerprints are all over it."

"Really?" I could hardly wait to tell Nana! She'd be thrilled Bernice wasn't the killer. But I guess this meant the police were pretty sure Jane was. Unh-oh.

Jane walked out of the bathroom holding a tablet of Motrin and a glass of water. I smiled at her, hoping she wouldn't notice that my hands were suddenly trembling. She looked at me expectantly, as if presuming I'd hand her the phone, but when I didn't, she set the pill and water on a nearby table and eyed me curiously.

"Okay, Wally," I said, my tongue so dry it was sticking to the roof of my mouth. "Thanks for calling. I'll pass the message along." I put the receiver down. "That was Wally." My voice cracked midword. "He just wanted to double-check that you got the message about our leaving tomorrow."

"There's your pill." She gestured toward the tablet on the table. And then it hit me. Oh my God! Jane Hanson wasn't at all who she appeared to be. She wasn't a kindly pharmacist. She was a cold-blooded murderer! She'd killed Shirley. She'd probably killed Andy. And if she'd poisoned Andy, what would prevent her from poisoning me, too? The Motrin looked tempting, but if it was going to relieve my toothache by causing immediate death, forget it.

"You know something, Jane? The tooth actually feels much better, so I think I'll just tough it out. Sorry to have bothered you." I sidled toward the door, but she was three steps ahead of me, intercepting my exit. "I really need to get back to the room and pack. I haven't even started yet. And you need to pack, too. Look. You haven't thrown anything into your suitcase. And I should remind you that you need to have all your luggage outside your door by five, which means you'll have to save room in your carry-on for your nightgown because--"

"Shut up, Emily."