I stabbed a few peas with my fork and shoved them into my mouth. Maybe tomorrow night we could discuss the gay and lesbian movement. I was dying to hear their take on that.

Nana had packed two nightgowns for the trip, which was a good thing because I found myself having to wear one of them to bed. I wouldn't have minded sleeping in the nude, but Nana stated quite emphatically that if two of us were going to share one bed, one of us was not going to be naked.

We lay in bed shoulder to shoulder--me, staring at the darkened ceiling, Nana, snoring like a lumberjack. I turned to look at her in the shadows and shook my head at the toilet paper she'd wrapped around her head. She said the toilet paper was a better alternative than a hairnet because it cushioned her hair without flattening her curls. As she slept, however, the tissue kept creeping down over her face, so as the night progressed, she was beginning to look more like Lon Chaney in a twenties version of The Mummy.

I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Shirley Angowski and the way she'd looked at the bottom of the precipice and wondering if the police had recovered her camera bag from the ravine. What if she had plummeted to her death accidentally? If that was the case, I was wasting a lot of energy worrying about who was where and when. But if someone had pushed her, I wanted to know who, and I wanted to know right now. What person who had access to dimethyl sulfate also had a grudge against Shirley Angowski?

There were only three people I could cross off my suspect list. Me. Nana. And Louise Simon. Even if Louise had had the opportunity to poison Andy before he left Iowa, she hadn't been on top of Mount Pilatus, so she couldn't have pushed Shirley. Although, after I thought about that for a minute, I frowned at my logic. The fact that Louise hadn't killed Shirley didn't mean she hadn't killed Andy. What if someone else had killed Shirley independently of Andy? What if there were two killers?

I rubbed my throbbing temples. If there were two cold-blooded murderers, at least I could take comfort in the fact that one of them was on a boat in Alaska.

"EHHHHH!"

The shriek had me jackknifing into a sitting position in a fraction of a second. I swung my legs over the bed and landed on my feet.

"EHHHHH!"

A woman's scream. Coming from the room next door. Oh, no. Not again. I HATED people saying death happened in threes.

"STOP IT! GET AWAY!"

I jumped as something thunked into the wall. I hoped it wasn't a body. I groped for a weapon. My shoe.

"EEEEEEEK!"

I thought about my shoe. Was this wise? This was the mate to the only pair I had left. If I ruined this shoe, I'd have to go barefoot.