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correct target, they might come back to get it right. I hoped Bob, or the police, found out the woman’s identity soon. It would be hard enough to shut down am identity thief’s scam, stopping a hired killer seemed out of our league.
    Voices carried from down the hallway.
    Two people huddled in a small alcove area before the other set of doors. Two wooden signs hung from the ceiling. One was a stick man wearing a top hat pointing to the left, and the other a stick woman in a flowing dress pointing to the right.
    A woman with wet, undistinguishable colored hair wearing a shapeless gray tunic paired with gray leggings, waved her arms around, agitated about something. The shadows in the hallway kept her half-hidden.
    â€œIt’ll be fine.” Lydia Clement shifted her grip on a large tote.
    I crept closer, hoping to catch Lydia’s attention.
    Lydia drew as close to the woman as she could without actually joining her in the shift. Her own gray and white outfit, though snazzier and dressier, almost blended right into the other woman’s. “We’ll talk later.”
    I inched as close as I dared.
    Harsh sounding whispers floated back and forth between the women. Both heads tilted toward each other, muscles bunched up. The tension in the other woman could be from the humongous tote tugging down her shoulder.
    A commotion came from the vicinity of the crop registration area. Even the heavy glass doors did little to block out the sound of the irate women.
    Lydia’s head jerked toward the sound. When her gaze came back to her conversation, she spotted me and frowned. The tote she carried plunked to the floor.
    The other woman skedaddled into the bathroom.
    â€œCan I help you?” Lydia crossed her arms. The dim light and her pale clothes gave her the appearance of an angry poltergeist.
    â€œA woman got killed in front of the resort. The police don’t know her name yet.”
    With eyes closed, Lydia rubbed her temples, her thin fingers moving in a circular fashion. She slanted her head toward the door. “I heard. What a terrible thing. Poor Marsha witnessed the whole thing and is beside herself. I really hope I can keep her focused on the crop.”
    I stared at Lydia, not knowing what to say. She looked at me oddly. My silence was causing concern.
    She rubbed her left temple with one hand and her stomach with the other. “I’m going to get an ulcer. I know I shouldn’t tell you this but Marsha had a drinking problem in the past. I’m afraid what happened might send her back down that path.”
    â€œIt was a horrible thing to witness. I can find you a helper if Marsha isn’t up to it.” I’d hate to lose Gussie or Darlene’s help this weekend, but Lydia needed them more them me.
    â€œI appreciate the offer but we’ll manage,” Lydia said. “I think it’s better to keep Marsha’s mind focused on something. It’s thinking that will get her in trouble.”
    I knew that problem all too well.
    A low buzz echoed in the hallway.
    Lydia pulled out a smartphone, swiped her finger across the screen and started typing away. “Great. The manager’s been trying to get a hold of me all morning. So are the vendors.”
    The conference center was still locked. “The manager gave me a set of keys. I’ll go let everyone into the building.”
    The bathroom door crashed open, nearly flattening Lydia to the wall. A flustered Marsha, who smelled like a bottle of mouthwash, rushed out. Her straw colored hair now in a messy ponytail. “The police want to talk to me. Again. But I need to redo the seating chart.”
    Lydia sighed. “You told me you had everything under control. The vendors are stuck outside.”
    Marsha blushed and avoided my gaze. “No, they’re not. I let them in right after— I was late. I’m sorry.”
    â€œUm hmmm.” Lydia tapped the toe of her high heel on the