Death Wears a Beauty Mask and Other Stories by Mary Higgins Clark Page B

She had blamed herself for not being careful to look to her left as she crossed the street. But it wasn’t like her to do that. She had begun feeling light-headed that day. Why?
    In Venice she had barely made it through the magazine shoot, unable to give Larry the wide-eyed expression he had been looking for. “Come on, Alexandra, you have been doing this for years. Did you stay up all night?”
    I knew that Grant Wilson had taken out a three-million-dollar policy on me, she thought. He was worried about the Beauty Mask campaign, that the client wouldn’t be satisfied. He’s been losing clients. I wonder how badly he needs that insurance money to stay afloat.
    But it was when they came back to Kennedy Airport that she began to suspect who was responsible for what was happening to her. When Marcus Ambrose offered to drive her home, she had accepted. They were behind the others leaving the baggage area. For some reason he had been stopped at the baggage exit and ordered to open all of his luggage.
    When he unzipped his shaving kit, the agent reached in, pulled out a prescription bottle and examined it. “I assume as a pilot you know you can’t take these for forty-eight hours before you take the controls. Barbiturates as strong as these can make you very drowsy.”
    It was at that moment that she knew she could not get in the car with him.
    Alexandra shivered. She wanted to be home. Janice and Mike were surely waiting for her there. She wanted—at last Alexandra allowedherself to face the reality that she had resisted. She wanted desperately to be with Larry.
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    When they stepped out of the helicopter, two uniformed policemen were waiting for them. “I’m Captain Rawley,” the older one said to introduce himself. “Officer Jennings is our driver. Let’s get out of this rain and into the car.”
    The news that Twaddle had been hoping to hear had not come. Lisa Markey was not in the Windham town register.
    To find her address, they needed to know the name of her grandfather. She might not have switched the title to her own name.
    â€œWe got a warrant for her apartment,” Twaddle explained. “We found nothing related to her cabin. So far we haven’t been able to locate any relatives who could help us.”
    â€œThere is another potential problem,” Captain Rawley said. “Most people have never heard of the really small towns around here. People who have ski places up here say they’re in Windham because people recognize that name. We have the clerks in all of the neighboring towns searching their records. To find her cabin we need to focus on her grandfather.”
    â€œWhat about neighbors? Would they have noticed an older man living by himself?” Twaddle inquired.
    â€œThe trouble is that most of the houses are ski cabins and unoccupied now. Once kids are out of school, about half of the owners come back during the summer,” Rawley replied.
    â€œWhat about security system providers or caretaking services?” Twaddle demanded. “Either one would have permanent phone numbers to call in case of emergency. They might have a number that matches Lisa Markey’s in New York City. Or one of them might remember the name of an elderly client who recently passed away.Surely someone can be found who can give us the address of Lisa Markey’s cabin.”
    Twaddle’s voice was calm but he had emphasized every word. Surely someone can be . . .
    Ben knew that when his partner spoke like that he was beyond frustration and desperately worried that it might be too late to save Alexandra Saunders.
    â€œWe are trying all of the above,” Rawley insisted. “I am awaiting information.”
    The car had been idling. Recognizing that they had no idea where to go next, Officer Jennings switched off the ignition.
    For ten long minutes there was absolute silence. It was suddenly broken by