The Weekend Was Murder Read Online Free

can’t share it with him.” It was also the last day of July, with little more than three weeks left before my job would be over and the fall semester would begin. I was going to miss working at the Ridley.
    “So that’s why you aren’t looking forward to the mystery weekend—because Fran won’t be there.” Mom smiled and squeezed my shoulders, and I guess she understood how I felt, but I didn’t want to admit anything. After all, she was my mother.
    Just then the doorbell rang. Mom hopped to her feet, I dragged myself to mine, and we both headed toward the door. Hopping beats dragging, so she got there first.
    Fran burst in. His hair was tousled and his cowlick was sticking up, but he grinned at me and shouted, “Liz! I just got a call from my boss in room service! With all that’s going on at the Ridley this weekend, they need everyone in room service to stay on duty, and because it’s my weekend off, they want me to be a witness in my room-service uniform for the mystery weekend!”
    “Great!” I yelled. Immediately the weekend began to look interesting.
    Mom straightened the pictures that had bounced out of place when one of my outflung arms accidentally hit the wall, and Fran said, “I’ve got a neat part. I’m going to narrow my eyes and say things like, ‘The woman who was dressed head to foot in black called room service for coffee, and when I saw the packet of poison in her hand I knew immediately that she had evil intentions.’ ”
    “That’s awful!” I said. “I’ve read Mrs. Duffy’s books. She’s a good writer, so I know she didn’t write that!”
    “I just made it up,” Fran admitted. “I won’t get my instruction sheet until I get to the hotel.” He looked a little hurt. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
    “It was too melodramatic,” I told him. “Our instructions say that we’re supposed to act natural and normal. We’re just hotel employees who happen to have heard or seen some things that might be clues.”
    “We’ll see.” Fran gave a wicked chuckle and pretended to twirl a long mustache.
    “You’re impossible,” I said, and ran to get my shoulder bag and suitcase.
    It was hard to say a quick good-bye to Mom, because at the door she held my shoulders, peered into my face as though I were on my way to Alaska, and asked, “They will feed you, won’t they?”
    “Of course, Mom,” I said. “We’ll eat all our meals in the employees’ cafeteria.”
    “Remember, Mary Elizabeth, to choose a green vegetable and a salad with your entree, and no junk food.”
    “Mom, you know I
live
for junk food,” I said.
    “Very funny,” she said again, but I still wasn’t trying to be funny.
    I kissed her good-bye, then ran after Dad and his lawn mower to kiss him good-bye too.
    Dad, who was sweaty and blotchy with little grass and dirt specks all over his bare chest, turned off the motor so that we could hear each other. “Liz,” he said, “your aunt Sally assured us that there were no elements ofdanger or daring in this mystery thing, that it’s all in fun.”
    “That’s what the author told me.”
    “Good,” he said. “Did she tell you exactly what you’ll have to do?”
    I nodded. “If anybody asks me, I have to tell them about an argument I overheard in the health club between two of the suspects. But first of all I have to run in, screaming that I’ve found a body.”
    He gave a start of surprise, then relaxed as he studied my face. “Good. If you can make light of your experience, then I guess that means you’re beginning to handle things now.”
    “No more nightmares about Mr. Kamara,” I said, and managed to smile.
    “Have a good time, sweetheart,” Dad told me, and went back to mowing the grass.
    I didn’t want Dad or Mom to worry, so I kept to myself the memories of finding Mr. Kamara’s body floating in the hotel’s swimming pool. Never, I promised myself. Never, ever, did I want to discover another dead body!

I threw my things into the