Ethel lumbered to her feet to greet him with a fierce hug. As always, she reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” she asked in that raspy smoker’s voice that Evan imitated so well.

“How are ya, Ethel?”

“Oh, you know, arthritic and constipated. Nothing new.”

Mac winced at the information overload. Grant would howl when he heard that one.

“What brings you down to the bowels?”

Interesting choice of words, he thought, suppressing an inappropriate chuckle. “I’m filling in for Maddie Chester today.” Over Ethel’s shoulder, he spied the time clock. “I need to punch in on her card.”

Ethel stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You can’t be serious.”

“Sure am. I knocked her off her bike by accident yesterday. She’s banged up pretty bad and can’t work. All she’s worried about is losing her job, so I told her I’d cover for her until she can get back to it.”

“But, you. . . You can’t! Your people own this place. What will folks say?”

“What do I care?”

“Your mother will care.”

“That’s her problem.” Mac stepped around Ethel, found Maddie’s timecard and punched in. “Now, where am I supposed to be?”

They engaged in a visual standoff, but Mac refused to blink.

Finally, Ethel said, “I’ll need to shift some things around.”

“Whatever Maddie normally does is fine. No special treatment.”

Mac couldn’t believe that Ethel actually looked guilty and wondered what that was all about. He joined the other housekeepers, who were filling gigantic baskets in a crowded stockroom. He met Betty, Sylvia, Patty, Sarah, Maude and Daisy, all of whom were wearing yellow dresses and white aprons. Maddie would look some kind of sexy in that getup, he thought before pushing the image aside and focusing on the filling of the baskets. Mac wondered how some of them managed to carry the heavy load up three flights of stairs. He wondered how Maddie did it.

Ethel handed out room assignment sheets to the women and Mac. As he scanned the long list, it suddenly occurred to him that this was not going to be as easy as he’d thought.

“This is Mac,” Ethel said begrudgingly. He noted she didn’t mention his last name, which was just as well. “He’s filling in for Maddie, who’ll be out a couple days.”

The other women, who ranged from twenty to sixty, gave him the once-over with a mixture of curiosity and blatant interest.

A young blonde sidled up to him. “What’s wrong with Maddie?” she whispered as Ethel continued to bark out orders and reminders about Sunday changeover and DNA.

Keeping his voice down, Mac gave her the abbreviated version of the story.