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woman to her room if it becomes necessary,” the manager said. “We have enough explaining to do to the owner.”
    I kept back and waited for an opportunity to break into the conversation. Should I tell him Detective Bell was looking for him, or let the detective introduce himself?
    The bartender raised his hands and shook his head. “No way am I going to do that. I’m not taking a chance of some woman accusing me of assault or something. Tell Abby to call you if someone needs to be carried up to their room again.”
    â€œYou’ll be doing the late shift on Saturday.” The manager pointed at the bartender and spun around. “I don’t care how it messes up your plans.”
    I hadn’t anticipated the manger making so sudden an escape. I had crept up so close, the man bumped into me. I staggered backwards. Flailing my arms about, I tried to keep myself upright.
    The manager snagged my arm. He smiled at me but it was more of a questioning one than apologetic. “My pardon, ma’am, I didn’t see you behind me.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I should’ve let you know I was here. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”
    â€œI’m sure you didn’t.” The manager forced out a smile.
    The bartender snorted and continued cleaning.
    â€œIf you’ll excuse me... ” He started out the door.
    â€œLydia asked me to find you. She and Marsha have been detained. We need to get into the conference center to set up for the crop retreat.”
    The manager rummaged around in his pockets. “Detained, that’s a new word for it.”
    â€œMr. Anderson, I need to speak with you.” Detective Bell walked over to us. “Are you aware there was a fatal accident in your parking lot?”
    â€œYes.” A nerve in the man’s jaw twitched. “I was trying to get some information about one of our guests. I have a feeling she might be the cause of the accident.”
    I shuffled back a few feet. I couldn’t leave until I got the key.
    â€œDo you mind, Miss Hunter?” Bell fixed a police officer evil-eye on me.
    The manager handed a key ring over to me. “You can open up the conference center. Please return those to the front desk when you’re done.”
    â€œI will. Thanks.” I jangled the keys.
    â€œMake sure you do, Miss Hunter. I’d hate to have to conduct a search for missing keys,” Detective Bell said.
    I opted to go through the building to avoid the heat, and stay away from the crime scene out front. A police officer was talking two women. They both shook their heads.
    I pushed the small lever on the glass door and entered into the long narrow hallway. My gaze rested on the sign. Great. Hotel security locked the door at midnight. Either we’d have to walk outside or else make sure someone was stationed at the door as cropping continued all night long. Usually, a wardrobe change from comfy day clothes to PJs happened sometime after dinner. I’d hate for a cropper to get locked out.
    Dim recessed lights lined the ceiling from one set of doors to the next. The walls were painted a soft gray and the carpet was a deep red with black filigree accents. The place looked dark, matching my mood.
    Hair tingled on the back of my neck. What was it about this hallway that gave me the creeps?
    Maybe it was the design that combined all the what-not-to-do’s women are instructed on from a very young age. Don’t go down dark places. If alone, walk in an area others can spot you. There were no windows in the hallway, just rows of doors. Were those doors leading to offices or storage closets also lacking windows and lights? I swallowed. Stop it. This hotel was filled with women. Croppers. Nothing to fear.
    Except for an identity thief—and a murderer.
    The driver of the hit-and-run vehicle might return to the scene of the crime to root out any witnesses. And if the murderer didn’t kill their