I had given Nathan a shopping list and spare set of keys, all taken care of, like always. I turned on my new stove, to poach some eggs. That felt good...somehow. The phone rang as I was finishing the eggs, it was Jon. ‘Can you come over to the Hotel?’ he asked. ‘Sure.’ ‘Car is on the way already.’ ‘OK.’ ‘Well, I guess I can get used to some pampering,’ I thought. I stripped and put on a soft white blouse and pair of snug tan slacks, pulling one of my shawls around me. It was cold outside. I did. The will had not yet been found.In another paper with a later date, there was another front page story with a drawing of a man, strapped in a large wooden chair, his head hooded, with wires going from the chair to a wall. The story told of the swift trial and execution of the murderers, and the man who hired them to perform their grisly task. It also verified Homer's assertion that the henchmen had admitted they'd have killed the children too if they'd been able to find them in the house.The. More

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