The Sky Is Falling by Sidney Sheldon

months.”
    “What was she like to work for?”
    He smiled reminiscently. “She was extremely pleasant, a lovely lady in every way. I — I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news about her accident.”
    “Did Julie Winthrop have any enemies?”
    He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Was Miss Winthrop involved with anyone she might have… jilted? Or someone who might want to harm her or her family?”
    Steve Rexford shook his head slowly. “Miss Julie wasn’t that sort of person. She could never hurt anyone. No. She was very generous with her time and with her wealth. Everyone loved her.”
    Dana studied him a moment. He meant it. They all meant it.
What the hell am I doing
? Dana wondered.
I feel like Dana Quixote. Only there are no windmills
.
     
     
    Morgan Ormond, the director of the Georgetown Museum of Art, was next on Dana’s list.
    “I understand you wanted to ask me about Gary Winthrop?”
    “Yes. I wondered—”
    “His death was a terrible loss. Our nation has lost its greatest art patron.”
    “Mr. Ormond, isn’t there a great deal of competition in the art world?”
    “Competition?”
    “Doesn’t it sometimes happen that several people might be after the same work of art and get into—”
    “Of course. But never with Mr. Winthrop. He had a fabulous private collection, yet at the same time he was very generous with museums. Not just with this museum, but with museums all over the world. His ambition was to make great art available to everybody.”
    “Did you know of any enemies he—”
    “Gary Winthrop? Never, never, never.”
     
     
    Dana’s final meeting was with Rosalind Lopez, who had worked for Madeline Winthrop for fifteen years as her personal maid. She was now working at a catering business she and her husband owned.
    “Thank you for seeing me, Miss Lopez,” Dana said. “I wanted to talk to you about Madeline Winthrop.”
    “That poor lady. She — she was the nicest person I’ve ever known.”
    It’s beginning to sound like a broken record
, Dana thought.
    “It was just terrible the awful way she died.”
    “Yes,” Dana agreed. “You were with her a long time.”
    “Oh, yes, ma’am.”
    “Do you know of anything she might have done that would have offended anybody or made enemies of them?”
    Rosalind Lopez looked at Dana in surprise. “Enemies? No, ma’am. Everyone loved her.”
    It
is
a broken record, Dana decided.
     
     
    On her way back to the office, Dana thought,
I guess I was wrong. In spite of the odds, their deaths must have been coincidental
.
    Dana went in to see Matt Baker. She was greeted by Abbe Lasmann.
    “Hi, Dana.”
    “Is Matt ready for me?”
    “Yes. You can go in.”
    Matt Baker looked up as Dana walked into his office. “How’s Sherlock Holmes today?”
    “It’s elementary, my dear Watson. I was wrong. There is no story there.”
     
V
     
    THE CALL FROM Dana’s mother, Eileen, came without warning.
    “Dana, darling. I have the most exciting news for you!”
    “Yes, Mother?”
    “I’m getting married.”
    Dana was stunned. “What?”
    “Yes. I went up to Westport, Connecticut, to visit a friend, and she introduced me to this lovely, lovely man.”
    “I’m — I’m thrilled for you, Mother. That’s wonderful.”
    “He’s — he’s so —” She giggled. “I can’t describe him, but he’s adorable. You’ll love him.”
    Dana said cautiously, “How long have you known him?”
    “Long enough, darling. We’re perfect for each other. I’m so lucky.”
    “Does he have a job?” Dana asked.
    “Stop acting like my father. Of course he has a job. He’s a very successful insurance salesman. His name is Peter Tomkins. He has a beautiful home in Westport, and I’m dying for you and Kimbal to come up here and meet him. Will you come?”
    “Of course we will.”
    “Peter is so anxious to meet you. He’s told everyone about how famous you are. Are you sure you can make it?”
    “Yes.” Dana was off the air weekends, so