Compromise. Cora slid until her feet cleared the top step, then squirmed into a crouch, and scurried the rest of the way. She hit the ground running, zigged and zagged her way through the shop. A flowered vase paid the price, toppling from a pedestal and shattering on the floor. Cora gritted her teeth, plunged on.

It was not until she was out the front door and hurrying down the street that Cora's heart stopped pounding too hard for her brain to catch up and process what she'd just heard.

Oh, was Benny Southstreet going to get it!

Chapter 30.

THE FOUR SEASONS Motel was just the kind Benny Southstreet would choose. The sign read, CABLE TV: $29.99. That, Cora figured, was either an expensive TV or inexpensive room. Cora drove right in as if she owned the place, pulled up in front of Unit 7.

The service cart with linens and toiletries was outside the open door to Unit 8. The chambermaid was inside. Cora realized chambermaid was a rather sexist concept. Surely a man could hold the position.

He didn't. The chamberperson was a woman, not much more than a girl, from Cora's perspective, though perhaps in her early twenties. She had freckles, red hair, and green eyes. She was chewing gum, which, in Cora's humble opinion, made women seem unattractive. Not this one. She seemed bright and perky.

Cora put on her friendliest smile. "Hi there."

"Oh, hello."

"Cleaning the rooms?"

The girl popped her gum. "You must be psychic."

"I'm Cora Felton."

"Yes, I know. I'm Marge O'Connell."

"Hi. So what's it like?"

Marge frowned. "What's what like?"

"Cleaning the rooms."

"Why?"

"I have a..." Cora hesitated over the bogus relationship. She'd been about to say "niece," but Sherry was her niece. Cora couldn't bear to claim a granddaughter, even an imaginary one. "I have a friend whose daughter's looking for a job. She's right out of high school. Nice girl. Bright. Wants to put some money away before college."

Marge looked amused. "Does she, now?"

"Yes. So I was wondering if you could give me a few tips on the trade."

"You'd like some pointers on the fine art of being a chambermaid?"

"What are the hours? What's the pay? Do they try to take advantage of you?"

"You mean sexual harassment?"

"Yes." Cora noticed the girl's eyes were twinkling. "You're putting me on?"

"Well, Mr. Haney's close to ninety. His wife's close to a hundred, wears the pants in the family. I'm not sure he remembers what sex is. Anyway, I bet your friend's daughter could outrun him."

"Sounds good. Well, don't let me keep you."

Marge took a set of towels off the linen cart. She turned around to find Cora standing there. "You're still here."

"I was wondering if I could watch you work. Get an idea what the job is like."

Marge put her hands on her hips in a saucy manner, and popped her gum. "Yeah, sure. Which unit you interested in?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Give me a break. You're an amateur detective. Always snooping around. What is it this time? A murder?"

"I really can't say. You know how it is."

"You mean you have a client."

"I didn't say that."

"Is that what you can't say?"

"I can't say."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Could you answer a question?"

"Depends what it is."

"This is Unit 8."

"That's your question?"

"No, that's an observation."

"What's your question?"

"You working your way up or down?"

Marge was working her way up. Cora sat in her car and smoked while Marge cleaned Units 9 and 10, and was there to intercept her when she finished 11.

"Pretty impressive," Cora said. "You did those rooms in fifteen minutes each."

"That's with an audience," Marge said. "Ordinarily, I'd take my time."

"You didn't seem hurried to me. How about I put a stopwatch on you?"

The girl's mouth fell open. "Is that it? Old man Haney sent you to check up on me?"

"I wouldn't do that. Scout's honor."

"Then what's with the watch?"

"Nothing. I'd take it off and put it in my purse, except I'd never find it. Go ahead. Do the room. I won't make a peep."

Marge walked up to the motel door, put the key in the lock. Cora was right behind her.

"So, you're interested in this room?"

"Did I say that?"

"No, you didn't. You expect to watch me clean it?"

"Would that be a problem?"

"Not unless you get me fired."

"I'm not here to get you fired."

"You could do it anyway."

"Yeah, but I'd really have to try."

The girl smiled. "Okay, you can look. But you're not touching anything."

Cora knew that before Marge said it. Cora had no intention of touching anything. Except the motel room door lock, which she hoped to fiddle with surreptitiously, twisting the little gizmo to unlocked, so that when Marge went in to clean 13 Cora could slip in and ransack 12. It occurred to Cora she had a perfidious nature, if that was what the word meant.

Marge clicked the door open, entered the unit. Cora went in right behind her, took a look, and stopped dead.

In the middle of the room were four rattan chairs.

Chapter 31.

"I'M SORRY, BUT this changes things," Cora said.

The chambermaid frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"Did those four chairs come with this room?"

"Of course not."

"Do you know what they're doing here?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, I have. They were stolen from a friend of mine."

"Uh-oh."

"So I'm going to take them back."

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You can't do that. You'll get me fired."

"For recovering stolen property?"

"I let you look around. Which was fine, as long as you didn't touch anything. You take those chairs, I'm in trouble big-time."

"I told you I wouldn't get you into trouble. So let's go find Mr. What's-his-name, the manager, and I'll explain the situation."

"It's Mr. Haney. And what are you going to explain?"

"I came here to see Benny Southstreet. You were cleaning his room. I looked in the door and there they were."

"You know whose room it is?"

"Of course I do. Come on, give me a break. You knew I was snooping around. You really surprised I had something in mind?"

"You were looking for these chairs?"

In point of fact, Cora was looking for Chuck's hundred-dollar bills. The idea Benny might have taken the chairs never occurred to her. "Absolutely. I came here to ask Benny about the chairs. He wasn't here, but the chairs were. You think Mr. Haney will buy that?"

"It isn't the truth?"

"It's close enough."

"Well, Mr. Haney isn't here. He went shopping at the mall."

"How about his wife?"

"She went with him."

"Who is here?"

"Ralph."

"I take it Ralph doesn't have the authority to handle this?"

"Ralph barely has the authority to tie his shoes."