"Jane, stop playing with your car and come inside," Shelley ordered impatiently.

It was a very long walk and Jane kept looking back at her car, thinking the thing she liked best about it was the big round headlights. So retro. So 1930s. So pretty. She could have driven it around Gosford Park and felt right at home. But she'd yet to drive in the dark and would have to read the manual to figure out how to turn on the lights.

"Isn't it a gorgeous lobby?" Shelley exclaimed

when they walked into the hotel, as if she'd designed it herself. "Jane, pay attention. Forget the Jeep for a bit."

It was a great lobby. It was enormous, but cozy at the same time. In spite of vast expanses of marble flooring, covered with what one could mistake for real Oriental rugs, it had lots of comfy seating areas where you could have a private discussion with friends without anybody overhearing you — unless you were yelling.

"This is really luxurious. Look at these floors. Some of it has fossils, doesn't it?"

"I think your imagination is in overdrive," Shelley said, dragging her along to the check-in desk, which looked as if it were a huge piece of furniture from a very old castle, except that it was too clean and shiny.

"Mrs. Nowack," the manager said. "That was

fast."

"We're in my friend's new car. This is Mrs. Jeffry, my roommate when we come to the mystery conference."

The manager knew which side his bread was buttered on and studied Jane for a moment, clearly noting her and memorizing her name.

"I'll escort you ladies upstairs."

"No need," Shelley said. "I've been here often enough to find it myself. Just loan me a key."