Free Grace Among Thieves by Julie Hyzy Page B

police?”
    A woman at the other end answered, “On their way.”
    I glanced upward. Terrence and his team had managed to drag all the onlookers back from their perches above. The tall, empty stairwell was silent. “Ambulance on its way, too?” I asked.
    “Affirmative.”
    Our security would be stretched to the breaking point so I wouldn’t request assistance down here until I absolutely needed it. I was about to sign off, when, in a moment of brilliance, I said, “Get in touch with my assistant, Frances. Have her meet me at the bottom of the red stairwell. Tell her to cut across the main floor, not the second floor. Got it? Come via the main floor or the basement.”
    “Copy that.”
    It would take Frances a few minutes to reach my position, but I needed someone I could trust to keep an eye on John until the police arrived. Monica would be a poor choice and I needed to get up to the second floor, where I could be of more use.
    In the meantime, I tried to get more information from John. “This has been horrible. I’m so sorry. Is there something I can do for you?”
    Sitting seemed to have helped his color return. He blinked, looking upward. “My tour group . . .”
    “I’ll go up there to check on them as soon as my assistant gets here.”
    “I’m all right,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
    “I understand.”
    He looked up, his usually bright eyes clouded with sadness.
    We fell silent.
    Arms folded, I focused on the opposite wall, trying hard to keep from looking at Lenore.
    “You’ve had a rough go of it here at Marshfield these past few months, haven’t you?” John asked.
    I nodded. I’d been thinking the exact same thing. I hadn’t been here a full year yet and this was the third murder on Marshfield property. If I didn’t know better, I’d consider myself a jinx.
    “I know you need to be upstairs,” John said. “Go ahead. Do what you need to do. I’ll be okay.”
    “I’d rather wait for my assistant,” I said. “Just in case.”
    “I’m not a child,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “I know not to touch anything. I don’t need a babysitter.”
    “Of course you don’t,” I said, smoothly, uncrossing my arms and stepping closer. “What else can you tell me about this Lenore? Do you have any idea who might want to harm her?”
    John’s eyebrows came together. “She hasn’t been exactly tight-lipped about the fact that she’s recently divorced. I got the impression it was ugly, but I never sensed fear from her. I think she said her husband was cheating. He divorced her.”
    “That doesn’t sound very threatening.”
    “Unless she wasn’t telling the truth.” John looked frail all of a sudden. “But I doubt that. If anything, she shared too much. Drove a few of the other group members up a wall.”
    “Enough to kill her?”
    His gaze rolled up to meet mine. “That isn’t funny.”
    “It wasn’t meant to be. The police will want to know.”
    He stared at the floor and bobbed his head. “That’s true enough.”
    “That wouldn’t explain the guy in the staff uniform,” I said. “He must be an imposter. The fact that he was able to get in without being noticed, though, disturbs me greatly.” Instinctively I turned toward Lenore, then wished I hadn’t. “Do you think the killer chose her at random?”
    “I don’t know what to think.”
    “Can you tell me where you were when you last saw her?”
    “The police will want to know that, too, won’t they?” He rubbed his face, thinking. “We were outside the Highland Guest Room and I was giving the little spiel on how the room got its name. That’s when the docent—or whoever he was—gestured to Lenore. I saw him. My first thought was that she’d gotten into trouble again, but the guy was smiling, so I ignored them and kept talking. When we moved on down the hall to the next stop, I noticed the guy pointing something out to Lenore. I didn’t know