I was still naked. I waited about a minute, then edged very carefully and quietly out of the bathroom.
I felt relieved, though my heart was still racing. I could see the thinning back of Chuck’s head as he sank into a comfortable leather armchair in the sitting room. I went over to him, like I was going to surprise him, and put my hands on his shoulders. This time his shoulders did not feel so stiff. “Everything okay?” I asked.
Then I realized Chuck Knoedel was dead.
He had been left there in the chair, still in the terry robe, strangled with a piece of cord or wire. The whole thing had been done so expertly, so horribly quickly, that I could not help but stare—his eyes were still open. They were much more blue than I had thought. He had no glasses on. I closed them.
Then I realized I’
