“I gave her a sob story about how sorry I was and begged her not to say anything. She said she wouldn’t, but I knew that sooner or later she’d blab. And until then, she’d torture me with the threat of exposure every chance she got. She’d enjoy that. And besides, I wanted that fifty grand. You may not mind shopping at the Bargain Barn, honey, but I’m sick of it.

“So you see,” she said, her knife poised to attack, “I had no choice. Just like I don’t have any choice now. Which is really too bad. I tried to warn you, you know.”

“By putting those nails under my tires?”

“I thought for sure that would scare you off. It’s a shame you were so damn persistent. Now I have to kill you. What a pity. I like you, Jaine. We could’ve been friends.”

“Can’t we still be friends? I won’t tell anyone; I promise. Marybeth deserved to die. You were doing the world a favor. And I’m sure Rochelle’s lawyers will get her off on a technicality. Let’s forget about this silly murder thing and head on over to Ben & Jerry’s.”

“You don’t really think I’m going to fall for that, do you?”

No, actually I didn’t, but it had given me time to inch over to the metal lid she’d tossed on the floor. I grabbed it now and swung it with all my might, knocking the knife from her hands.

As I lunged for the knife, she lunged for me, grabbing me by the train of my bridesmaid dress. I heard the rip of the seams, already thisclose to bursting, as they tore apart. Then, just as I was about to grab the knife, I felt a searing pain in my legs as Pam rammed me with the room service cart and sent me sprawling to the floor.

Before I knew it, she was on top of me, frantically searching for the knife, which had disappeared from sight, hidden somewhere under the mountains of chiffon in my dress. At least the dratted dress was good for something. We spent what felt like centuries but was probably only seconds clawing at each other, my dress now completely torn from my body.

By this time I was screaming for help at the top of my lungs. Where the hell were all the people in this hotel anyway? Couldn’t anybody hear me?

Then, to my horror, I saw Pam retrieve the knife from under a pile of chiffon.

“Sorry, Jaine,” she said, holding it aloft. “Oh, and by the way, thanks again for the resume.”

Then, just as she was about to plunge the knife into my chest, the elevator door dinged open, and we were on the rooftop terrace, surrounded by a crowd of gaping Union National employees. Thank heavens. Someone had heard me.