Okay. So being the quintessential escort had its rewards. It felt nice to brighten someone's day, and I especially liked it that people felt inclined to spill their guts to me. Of course, I didn't believe for a minute that Andy intended to serve divorce papers on Louise. She was his cash cow. No way would he cut her loose. He'd lied to Shirley about his intended divorce and ended up dead. I could hear my mother now. "See what happens when you break one of the Ten Commandments?" Of course, in Andy's case, he'd broken more than one, so maybe it was the cumulative effect that got him.

One thing was for sure. He never should have left his door unlocked, especially after he'd just humiliated a man in public. Another clear-cut case of a man discarding common sense and thinking with his Mr. Peppy. It had to have been Mr. Nunzio who killed him. Granted, killing a man because he'd gotten you thrown out of a lounge was pretty extreme, but Nunzio was Italian, and Italians were notorious for their explosive tempers. He had a motive, and Andy's leaving his room unlocked had given him the opportunity. I just hoped the police dragged Nunzio in for questioning quickly. I didn't like the idea of having to watch my back with everyone in the group, but until the police were certain and charged the guy, that's exactly what I'd be forced to do.

With a possible suspect identified, I was beginning to feel a little calmer, until I remembered that my key was missing. Oh. My. God. Was it Nunzio who'd stolen my key out of the box this morning? Could he be in my room this very moment waiting to--

"Miss Andrew?" An unfamiliar female clerk motioned to me from the front desk. "I believe we have everything in order now. You should have mentioned you were in the room the police cordoned off. We put your key in a special place to remind us that you can't go up there."

"So no one stole it?" My knees wobbled with relief. I felt a hundred pounds lighter...for a millisecond. "What do you mean I can't go up there? Look at me! I need to change my clothes!"

"Hotel policy."

"I could come down with pneumonia and die!"

"There's a hand dryer in the ladies' toilet by the dining room."

If I still had my umbrella, her eye would be history. "All my stuff is in that room." I lowered my voice and skewered her with an icy glare. "I need my stuff."

"Sorry."

This wasn't going well. I decided I'd have to appeal to her feminine nature, provided she had one. "Are you telling me I'm going to have to go around looking like this all week?" I opened my raincoat to reveal the grossly distorted shape of my cashmere sweater.

Her lips did a little quirky thing, like a silent, "Euwww." She looked over her shoulder to the main office, then slid the key to room 3310 across the desk toward me. "I'll give you a half hour. Pack up your belongings and leave your suitcases outside your door. I'll have a bellman transfer them to your new room when we decide where we're going to put you."