Zach’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “What woman?”

“Didn’t give her name. Claimed she had a meetin’ with you.”

“With me?”

“That’s what she said.” Frank started down the ladder. “She couldn’t talk to me as I wasn’t a-and I’m quotin’ here-‘member of the Danvers family.’”

Frank hopped to the floor and dusted his hands. He drew a wrinkled handkerchief from his back pocket and rubbed it under the brim of his hard hat.

From somewhere near the kitchen there was a crash and rattle of silverware that echoed through the hotel.

“Christ!” Frank’s head snapped up, and he narrowed his eyes at the kitchen. “Damn that Casey.”

“Is she a reporter?”

“The woman?” Frank fumbled in his pocket for his cigarettes. “Hell if I know. As I said, I’m not a Danvers, so she wouldn’t talk to me. Not that I wouldn’t mind spending a little time with her.”

“Good-looking?”

Frank said, “Beyond a ten.”

“Sure.”

“Look, all I know is that short of bodily hauling her out of here, we got a problem. No one’s supposed to be on the premises. If she slips and falls and breaks her neck and OSHA finds out-”

“You worry to much.”

“You pay me to worry.” Frank found his crumpled pack of Camels and shook out a cigarette.

“Just finish the job. I’ll deal with the insurance people and the woman.”

“Good.” Smiling as he clicked his lighter, Frank inhaled deeply. “Now, let’s see if this mother works. Hey, Roy, turn on the juice.” Reaching around the desk, he flipped a switch and stared at the chandelier. Lights shaped like candles blazed for a second before flickering and dying. “Fuckin’ wiring,” Frank growled, his face turning red, his cigarette bobbing between his lips. “I told that half-wit Jerry to use…oh, hell!” Exasperated, he shot out a stream of smoke. “Roy, turn it off again!” he roared.

“I’ll go talk to the mystery lady.”