Free Hocus Croakus by Mary Daheim

chatting with one of the uniformed security men. “Ah!” the casino manager exclaimed with his toothsome grin. “Mrs. Flynn! How did you like the Great Mandolini?”
    â€œFine, but—”
    Pancho held up a hand. “Yes, I heard about the seating incident with Inga. I must apologize for the mix-up. Inga is—”
    Judith was compelled to interrupt. “Mr. Green, there’s a much bigger problem at the—”
    â€œInga is Mandolini’s sister,” Pancho went on. “She and Mr. Fromm, his manager, along with whoever else might join their—”
    â€œMr. Green! Please! The Corvette over in the quarter section has a—”
    Pancho’s attention was finally captured. “The Corvette?” He frowned. “Did someone damage it during the power failure?”
    â€œNot the car itself,” Judith replied, and swallowed hard. “It’s the person inside it. It looks like—”
    â€œPerson? There’s no person in the car,” Pancho asserted, looking relieved. “That’s a dummy, a doll, a…you know, a mannequin.”
    â€œNot now it isn’t,” Judith persisted. “It looks like Salome.”
    Pancho chuckled. “Yes, it does a bit. We joked about that when we put the mannequin in the ’Vette. We told Salome that if she got bored between performances, she could always go sit in—”
    Renie stepped forward and grabbed Pancho by his well-cut lapels. “Salome is dead. Dead, dead, dead!”
    The frown returned to Pancho’s swarthy face. “What do you mean, ‘ dead ’?”
    Renie let go of his lapels, closed her eyes, and let her tongue loll out of her mouth. “Like that.”
    â€œShe may just be unconscious,” Judith put in. “But whatever the case, she needs help. Or something,” she added lamely.
    At last, Pancho looked alarmed. “This isn’t a joke?”
    â€œNo.” If the single word didn’t convince Pancho, Judith’s stricken face did.
    â€œGood God!” Pancho turned to the security man who had been going over some forms. “Amos, call your crew to SR-Five.” He stopped and gave a sharpshake of his head. “No. Call in only three of them. We don’t want a mob scene. And see if Doc Engelman is here tonight. I thought I saw him in the coffee shop.”
    Amos, who was a stocky young man of Native-American descent, stared at his boss. “What is it? What code should I give?”
    â€œCrimson,” Pancho retorted, already moving into the gaming area.
    Amos’s jaw dropped, but he already had a phone in his hand. His voice over the PA system was calm, however. Judith and Renie followed Pancho, but he detained them after a few steps.
    â€œWait here by the security desk,” he said. “We’re going to do whatever we have to do as discreetly as possible.”
    â€œBut…” Judith began.
    Grim faced, Pancho made a “back-off” gesture with his hands. The cousins watched him hurry away.
    â€œThis is just too gruesome,” Judith declared. “What if Salome is really dead?”
    Renie raked her short chestnut hair with her fingers and fidgeted with her clothes. “Of all the casinos, in all the resorts, in all the world, why did she have to die by your slot machine? Hunh,” she said in surprise, “the back of my skirt feels damp. I must’ve gotten it wet in the rest room after the lights went out.”
    â€œThat was no accidental power failure,” Judith asserted.
    â€œYou may be right,” Renie conceded.
    Judith felt a headache coming on. “How on earth do I end up in these horrible situations? There were twenty other people playing those Corvette slots.”
    â€œTruly,” Renie replied, “in a casino, you could set off a nuclear device and no one would notice. One timein Reno, I was sitting near a window at the hotel/casino where we were