Never Neck at Niagara Read Free Page A

her.
     
    ***
     
    For a regular churchgoer like Leigh, sleeping in on vacation Sundays was a real treat, and being in a hotel on someone else's expense account was icing on the cake. She could doze the morning away with preordered blueberry muffins and tea waiting at her bedside, thinking of how nice it was that she had "forgotten" to bring along any work. Being a partner in her own ad agency had its benefits, but feeling constantly guilty about leaving work undone was a pesky disadvantage, and putting a few hundred miles between herself and the unwritten copy was the only cure.
    Having been awakened early by hunger, she dove happily into a large muffin. Room service was expensive, of course, and her scrupulously honest public-servant husband would be sure to pay for every morsel she ate out of his own pocket rather than the taxpayers', but it was still worth it. She collected a few crumbs from off the bed sheets and reached for the morning paper to help break the next batch's fall. Then she saw the small headline in the lower right hand corner, and her appetite dissolved.
     
    WOMAN'S BODY FOUND  BELOW FALLS; FOUL PLAY POSSIBLE.
     
    Her pulse pounded in her ears as she read the short article. "The body of a woman was recovered at the base of the horseshoe falls at approximately 11:00 PM last night by officials utilizing a Maid of the Mist tour boat. The search was authorized after numerous sightseers reported watching a large object that might have been a person drifting in the river and going over the edge of the falls near the midpoint. Witnesses claim that the individual was not moving voluntarily at the time, leading investigators to speculate that the woman was either unconscious, or perhaps already dead, when she went over the falls. An investigation is currently under way."
    Leigh's stomach lurched. It couldn't be. Marjory couldn't be dead. How could Roger have killed her, when she knew he was planning to? Hadn't she called the police?
    If she had, they hadn't bothered to contact Leigh.
    An even sicker feeling suddenly overcame her. If Marjory hadn't called the police, it was probably because she herself was involved in whatever illegal shenanigans Ash was threatening to blow the whistle on. In which case, she had probably never intended to call. She had intended to handle Roger on her own.
    Leigh let the paper fall limply to her lap. If she had contacted the police herself, Marjory might still be alive. Guilt washed over her in heavy waves, blending imperceptibly with nausea. She pulled herself out of the bed and started getting dressed. It was too late to save Marjory, but her mistake could still be rectified somewhat. After she told her story to the authorities, Roger and the pink chameleon would be certain to get what was coming to them.
    She had finished dressing and had her hand on the doorknob when the phone rang. She flew to it anxiously. "Yes? Hello?"
    A man's voice, deep and proper, answered. "Yes, this is Officer Tony Burnett with the New York State Park Service calling. Is this Leigh Koslow?"
    Her heartbeat quickened. So. Marjory had called the police after all. The burden of guilt on her chest lifted a little. "Yes, that's me."
    "Ma'am, I wonder if you would be willing to come down to our headquarters on Goat Island as soon as possible. We have an individual here who appears confused and disoriented, and we're hoping you might be able to help us identify her. She isn't carrying any ID, but a note with your name and number was found in one of her pockets."
    It was a moment before Leigh could speak. Marjory confused and disoriented, on Goat Island? It made no sense, but the primary implication was positive. If Marjory was on Goat Island now, she couldn't possibly have been found dead last night.
    Leigh took a deep breath. It was all right. Marjory was alive. Whatever had happened to her between yesterday and this morning—she was still alive. And although Leigh stopped short of being glad that some other