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delivering this to me, Mr. Schenk?” Surely messenger service isn’t among the duties of the security chief of a prestigious hotel.”
    Schenk looked pleased at the implied compliment, and his voice softened. “Are you acquainted with Lizabeth Mulgrew?” He watched May’s face closely.
    She shrugged. “Yes, of course. She’s my publisher. Is that who wrote me this letter?”
    Schenk sank back in his chair, confused. “I thought you were the publisher.”
    Isabelle helped him out. “May and I run Romantic Nights, which publishes romance novels, but May is also a rather well-known mystery writer. Lizabeth Mulgrew’s company, Sherlock Press, publishes those titles. We’re all colleagues in the independent publishing industry, you see.”
    May continued the explanation. “Because of our various roles in the mystery business, Lizabeth and I have been participating in the Mysteries USA conference at the Hilton this week—at least, we were until Lizzie was called away earlier today on a family emergency. What’s this all about, Mr. Schenk? Is Lizzie all right?”
    The security officer’s face grew solemn, and he seemed to choose his words with care. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Ms. Mulgrew apparently passed away in her sleep last night. A room service waiter was unable to rouse her at 6:30 a.m. with the coffee she’d pre-ordered last night, and he contacted me because he was concerned. When repeated phone calls to her room and knocks at the door went unanswered, I used my pass key, and …” His voice trailed away apologetically.
    May’s hands flew to cover her mouth in shock as Isabelle patted her knee. Margo jumped up from her chair and ran to stand behind her aunt, putting steadying hands on her shoulders.
    “But what about the family emergency?” I protested. “That’s what we were told had happened at lunch today. Lizabeth was scheduled to give the keynote address.”
    Schenk slumped still farther into his chair, showing the strain of what must have been a very bad day. “The conference sponsors were told the truth about Ms. Mulgrew, but they apparently decided to postpone passing it along to the rest of the attendees, at least until next of kin had been notified. Let’s face it, they didn’t want to get everybody all riled up and put a damper on their big awards ceremony tomorrow night. Unfortunately, no emergency contact was listed on Ms. Mulgrew’s registration form. It looked as if she intended to get an early start this morning, but her car is still in the hotel garage. Her suitcase was already packed. There were only a few toiletries left out in the bathroom. Her handbag on the dresser contained a driver’s license, insurance and credit cards but no other personal information, and we couldn’t tell from her cell phone directory who might be related. Then I found this letter addressed to you, so I tracked you down to see what you might know about her family.”
    May pulled herself together with an effort. She turned the envelope over. “This is still sealed. You didn’t open it?”
    Schenk looked shocked at the idea. “That would be a federal offense.”
    A shaky smile curved May’s lips. “Under the circumstances, I think you might have been forgiven, but instead you went to the trouble of locating me and delivering this personally. That was kind, Mr. Schenk.”
    His cheeks grew ruddy. “It doesn’t seem right, a lady of Ms. Mulgrew’s age, well-known in her industry, abandoned at the city morgue. It’s not respectful, you know? I’m hoping there’s something in that letter that will lead us to her family before this hits the newspapers.” He looked pointedly at the unopened envelope in May’s hands.
    May got the message. “Would you like me to read this now, Mr. Schenk?”
    “If you could, ma’am, that would be a big help.” Schenk’s relief was evident.
    May got to her feet. “Margo, Kate, may I use your office for a few minutes? I’d prefer to read this in