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for my address and phone number in New York. Then he told
     me that I’d need to come down to police headquarters the next day and make a formal statement. He drew a brown leather wallet
     from his back pants pocket, pulled out a business card, and, before handing it to me, scribbled his cell phone number on it.
    “Call me if you think of anything else,” he said, suddenly warmer. “I believe the sound you heard is significant. I want to
     know if you recall
anything
else, even the most minor detail. Is that clear?”
    “It is. And I will. But I don’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t see anything.”
    “You’d be surprised at what comes to people.”
    He rose from his seat, and I pushed myself awkwardly out of the armchair.
    “I have a question,” I said as he turned to go. “Was—was she alive when she was wrapped up in that paper?”
    “That’s our concern, not yours.” I don’t think he meant for it to come out as curtly as it did, so he softened the impact
     with a small smile. “Look, we’re going to do our best to find the person responsible. Why don’t you get some rest now? You’ve
     had a long night.”
    It
is
my concern, was all I could think as he left the room. I could still feel Anna’s cool lips on mine. She was a total stranger
     to me, yet there’d been a moment in which I’d thought I could save her life. Now I was overwhelmed with a need to know how
     she’d died—and who had killed her.
    I walked next door to find Danny curled on the love seat, asleep, a frown on her face. I flashed back suddenly to a moment
     the two of us had shared years ago. She had taken me to get my first manicure and pedicure. I was only twelve, and the pedicure
     had tickled so much that I’d kept balling my foot up reflexively. Danny had nearly doubled over in laughter. It seemed strange
     to have the roles reversed, to feel the need to comfort
her.
    I gently jostled her shoulder and called her name a few times. As she woke, focusing on my face, she moaned softly.
    “I thought for a moment that it was just a nightmare,” she said. “But it’s not, is it?”
    “No, it’s not. The detective’s gone now, Danny. We can go to our rooms.”
    “All right. Though I can’t imagine how I’ll ever fall back to sleep.”
    “Would you like to talk for a while? I know I’ll never get back to sleep, either.”
    “Yes, I’d like that, actually. I’ve got so many questions. Why don’t we go into the lounge.”
    She stood up from the couch, still in her jacket and PJs, and led me down the corridor to the lobby. The inn was absolutely
     silent.
    “Did any guests come down tonight?” I asked.
    “A few did. They could see the madhouse from their windows, and they seemed totally distressed. I know this sounds so selfish
     of me to say with someone lying dead on the premises. But I keep thinking about the inn. I’ve worked so hard the last few
     years. And now it’s in danger of being ruined.”
    “That’s not true. You’ll get through this—and the inn will survive.”
    “You don’t understand,” she whispered. “I don’t see how we can survive now. This isn’t the first death we’ve had here.”

CHAPTER 4

    I CAUGHT MY breath. “What?” I exclaimed. “Who? When?”
    “Let’s not talk about it here,” Danny said softly. “I don’t want anyone to hear me.”
    She led me out into the lobby and across to the lounge on the far side. The front door of the inn was partially open, and
     I caught a glimpse of two cops standing on the front step talking, their faces illuminated by the lantern lights on the front
     of the inn. Once Danny and I were inside the lounge, she slid the wooden pocket doors partially closed. She lit two table
     lamps and used a remote control to ignite the gas flame in the fireplace.
    “Okay, so tell me about this other death,” I urged as we both sank into the sofa.
    “It happened this past July,” she said, her voice laden with discouragement. “A man who’d