“I’ll go to Emerald Waters with you,” I said. It would give me a chance to tell Sister about my talk with Laura. That, plus the fact that Elizabeth Taylor was gasping her last breath again on TV. Time to return that video to Delchamps.

“She said what?” Sister asked. We were about halfway to Emerald Waters and I had just gotten to the “we’re all in serious trouble” bit.

I repeated Laura’s words.

“See, Mouse? I told you how melodramatic she is.”

“Hmm.” Sister hadn’t seen her face; I had.

We pulled through the gates of Emerald Waters and into the crowded parking lot. Built a couple of years after Gulf Towers, this apartment complex was caught by the dune laws that required all construction to be behind the natural dunes. So Emerald Waters was farther from the water and there was no seawall. Its architecture was similar to that of Gulf Towers, though, the only difference being that there were six apartments on each floor opening onto an outside corridor.

“E. Peacock. Eleven-o-six.” Mary Alice turned from the directory and examined the lobby, which was all rattan furniture, huge potted plants in oriental urns, and some nice seascapes on the wall. “This place is nicer than Gulf Towers,” she announced.

“Hmmm.” Yes, it was, but I was planning on a future.

“I think those Japanese pots came from K Mart. We need to get some for our lobby.”

“It would be nice,” I agreed. “Are you going to ask the resident manager, or just go up to the eleventh floor, or what?”

The decision was made by an empty resident manager’s office.

The view from the eleventh-floor corridor was spectacular. We were looking down on a series of rainbow-colored shops that are called The Mediterranean Village. Across 98, children were zipping down the water slide at Big Kahuna’s.

“She has a better view, too,” Mary Alice said.

Apartment 1106 was the one on the western end of the building, the corner one, which meant that Emily probably did have a better view. “Hmm,” I said.

Sister marched up to 1105. “Mrs. L. Snodgrass,” she said, and knocked. No answer. I watched the children at Big Kahuna’s.

“Let’s try the next one,” Sister said. “You know what Fairchild said his blood pressure was this afternoon? Two-hundred-twenty over one-ten. I hope some of these folks know where Emily is. Take one worry off him.”

I turned to trail along behind her, and that’s when I noticed that Emily’s door was slightly ajar.

“Sister,” I said. “Emily’s door’s open. Maybe she’s back.”

“Oh, good. Knock.”

I did, and there was no answer.

Sister opened the door and called, “Emily! It’s Mary Alice Crane!”

No answer. This, of course, is when we should have turned around and left, located the security guard. This, of course, is not what we did.