"If he sticks with that, who's to care?" Mel asked.
"It's just that he also claims to read dozens of books a day," Jane said. "Our friend Felicity was telling us about him. He obviously doesn't read past the first few pages and makes enormous mistakes. He also takes potshots at women mystery writers. Felicity said he calls any mystery written by a woman a 'powder puff' book."
"I noticed when I went through the lobby that most of the people wearing those badges you had on were women," Mel said. "So why was he even invited to the conference?"
"Felicity says he goes to lots of mystery conferences blowing his own horn. It may be that some authors like him, even if he gets his facts wrong," Shelley explained. "After all, most people in the arts think any publicity is good publicity. Felicity also suggested that the planners thought a little conflict might be a good thing. I think I'll have the crab Louis salad."
She looked up and said, "Jane, you haven't even looked at your menu."
"I was thinking about that page from a book. Was he found in his car, Mel?"
"It looked as if he'd parked his van, turned off the ignition, and released his seat belt, and someone jerked open the door, bopped him on the back of the head, and threw him to the ground. The driver's-side door was standing open. We might be wrong about this though. It's just an initial impression. Why do you ask?"
"So it's possible he was reading some page of the book before coming back into the hotel? He might have clutched the page and accidentally ripped it out, right?"
"Possibly. Why does this interest you?"
"Yesterday he slipped up next to this very important editor and gave her a paperback book and whispered something to her. The editor looked startled. But she just handed it off to her assistant and dismissed Zac with a curt nod."
Shelley said, "Jane, I think he was probably just trying to put one of his old books into her hands to see if she'd republish it. Felicity told us he used to be a novel writer," she explained to Mel.
"What did he write?" Mel asked.
Both women shrugged. Jane said, "We don't know. We don't even know what name he used or what kind of novels they were. Felicity might know."
"Hmm," Mel said. Putting down the menu, he added, "I think I'll have the same thing Shelley's having. All I had at lunch was a greasy grilled cheese sandwich and a can of warm Dr Pepper. Crab Louis would erase the memory."
"Don't you want to talk to Felicity about Zac?" Jane asked.
"I may. But it's not my case. Give me her name when we return to the hotel and I'll pass it along to the guy in charge of it."
Shelley asked, "Was Zac robbed?"
"Apparently not," Mel said. "That's how we knew his name. He still had his wallet with lots of cash in it. Nobody even snatched the gold chains off his neck."
"Was the rest of the book in the van?" Jane said.
"I didn't look. Someone else might know."
The waiter was hovering impatiently. Mel and Shelley ordered their salads and Jane ordered grilled red snapper. Over dinner Jane gave Mel a short overview of people she'd met, the interviews, and which classes were interesting.
"Tomorrow the direction shifts," Shelley said. "Today was all writers, editors, and agents giving opinions. Tomorrow it's special presentations. Some touchy-feely stuff about getting in touch with your muse," she said with a disgusted shudder. "Also something called 'The Scene of the Crime'—that's probably what you're taking over, right?"
"Yup. I'm doing that and then later the forensic talk," Mel said. "What else goes on tomorrow?"
"Some off-the-premises trips," Jane said. "Volunteers are taking some people to the Field Museum, of course. Others are taking attendees to a botanical garden that has an expert on poisonousplants. There's also a class somewhere else about guns. What kinds, how to shoot with them."
Mel smiled at the image of all those women, most of them middle-aged, being carted off to learn how to kill people in their books.
"Why are you smirking?" Jane asked.
"No reason. I was just thinking of a joke someone made at the office this morning," he lied. "Not appropriate for delicate ears."
When they returned to the hotel, Jane had a message from Melody Johnson, the editor who had been encouraging.
"I've looked over your sample chapters and outline and would like to meet with you tomorrow. How does nine-thirty in the morning sound? Give me a call at room 602 to confirm."
Jane looked at her watch. It was nine thirty-seven. Probably that wasn't too late to call. Melody was presumably still out to dinner with her authors. Jane left a message confirming the time and asked where they should meet.
Mel had come up to see the suite and Shelley was showing him around while Jane was listening to and returning the phone message.
She found the two of them in Shelley's bathroom, Mel with his shoes off, testing the heated floor.
"Neat news," Jane said. "The editor wants to meet with me in the morning. I must make some notes about what I'd like to change about the plot
to make it more of a mystery and about how I'd like to tone down some of the description of the house. What time are you speaking, Mel?"
"One o'clock," he said, putting his shoes back on.
"We'll be there to hear you," Jane said.
"There's no need," Mel said. "I don't want to interfere with your plans."
"But we want to hear you," Shelley said. "We'll be there."
"Janey," Mel said. "Get on with your preparations for the appointment. I'm going down to the bar and stay out of your way."
"I'll come with you, if you don't mind," Shelley said. "Jane needs to be left alone for a while."
Jane sat on her bed with the notebook that was one of the freebies included in the conference book bags. She wrote down everything that had been simmering in the back of her mind since the interview with Melody Johnson and the subsequent panels of speakers. It didn't take her long, so she called Mel's cell phone. "Would you like to come up here?" she asked.
He said, "Might as well. Shelley's found someone else to talk to."
She greeted him at the door. He threw his jacket on a chair and followed her to her room. She'd already gathered up her papers and disappeared into the bathroom. When she came out, naked, she said, "The floor is heating up. I've set all the shower jets at a nice warm level. Let's play in there."
Shelley came back at eleven, saw Mel's jacket on the chair, and quietly went to her own room without disturbing Jane.
Mel left at one in the morning, in spite of Jane's objections. "I'm supposed to be in my room. And you need to be up early for your meeting."
Shelley and Jane were both wide-awake at seven. Melody Johnson called Jane back shortly after eight, saying she hoped she wasn't calling too early and suggesting that they meet in her hotel room, where they could speak privately. Jane agreed and quickly hopped into the shower. When she came back out, room service had brought up the simple breakfast Shelley had ordered for the two of them.
"Are you ready for your interview?" Shelley asked.
"Yes. I've made quite a lot of notes. I won't bother her with all of them unless she asks to hear them. I've put the most important changes up front in my notes."
"I'm so excited for you," Shelley said, spreading raspberry jam onto a hot Wolferman's muffin.