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wonders for my soul.  I take out my favorite blue dress to wear, the one with the white down the sides and the black circle at the waist like a wide belt.  Then I think better of it and pick out a pair of dark jeans and a loose, breezy black top instead.  If I’m going to give Jess a walking tour of the town that winds up with us both at the Thirsty Roo, then I think dressing practical is going to be the order of the day.  Best to be prepared for whatever might happen.
    Jess.  I frown at myself in the bathroom’s mirror, and sit on the edge of the tub to tie up my sneakers.  She needed to know her husband was on his way, probably, and that he wasn’t what you might call in a good mood.  Also, I think she owes me a bit of an explanation.
    Locking the door behind me, like I tell all my guests to do, I walk downstairs to the second floor and start down the hall to Jess’s room.
    Mister Brewster is standing in the middle of the hallway.
    Maybe it’s just coincidence that he’s looking right in my direction.  He smiles that cold, lifeless smile of his and then turns around, down to his room, and disappears inside.
    For a man who doesn’t come out of his room much I sure do run into him a lot.  Been here a long time, he has.  You’d think I’d be used to him by now.
    Anyway.
    At Jess’s door I knock.  Then knock again.  Oh, come on.  “Jess,” I call in to her, loudly enough that I probably woke up some of the other guests.  I knock a third time, and then once more.
    No answer.
    With a weary sigh, I have to wonder just what Jess has gotten me into.
    I have spare keys to all of the rooms, of course, for emergencies.  I know as soon as I turn away and head downstairs that I’m going to get the key from behind the registration desk to let myself in and wake Jess up.  No way she was that tired from her drive here.
    So why isn’t she answering?
    Maybe she got up before me and went out on the town.  Might be she was even in the dining room eating breakfast.  We start serving at six in the morning, just simple fare like scrambled eggs and bacon and pikelets.  The regular servers can make all of that up.  Rosie comes in early on the weekends and then we have things like dippy eggs and vegemite soldiers.
    I look into the dining room, glad to see the small crowd laughing and talking and eating, but Jess isn’t there.
    Now I really wish I’d gotten her mobile number from her yesterday.  I could at least call it and see if she was out and about.  Oh.  I could call her room.  Best to start with that before bursting in on her, I suppose.
    Behind the front desk I dial the three digit extension and listen to it ring on the other end.  I let it go on for far too long.  She’s not answering.
    A little sense of dread spreads over me.  Time to get the key and check her room.  The spare keys are on the peg board in the wooden cabinet set into the wall behind me, all in order, on their own hooks, one per room.
    The hook for Jessica’s room is empty.
    As I’m looking over the other keys to make sure it hadn’t accidentally got put in the wrong spot I hear the front door open.  It’s Rosie, all cheerful smiles and whistling some tune I can’t identify.
    “Morning, Dell,” she says to me.  “The hubby and I had the grandest time last night.  I was thinking of trying that new soup for lunch we talked about.  What do ya think?”
    She sees the look on my face and tilts her head to one side.  “Hey.  What’s wrong?”
    I tell her about the phone call from Horace, and about how I can’t get Jess to answer the door to her room, and about the missing key from the pegboard.  If ever a woman’s face so plainly said “I-told-you-so” it’s hers, right now.
    “Well,” she says out loud.  “She’s probably out on the town, like you thought.  Let’s give her a bit and then panic after that.”
    “I don’t know.”  I lean on the edge of the registration desk, tapping my fingers, thinking.