The seating at breakfast followed the arrangement set at dinner. Afterwards, I joined an exercise class run by Laura, a pretty twenty-five-year-old whose figure aroused the envy of some of the women and the interest of the better preserved of the men. She demonstrated each exercise and then led it, chanting “One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.” I sometimes wonder if phys. ed. instructors can count any higher. Willa paced herself sensibly, Panting, I made a mental note that I must get into better shape, while Darcy, next to Willa, flailed his arms and jumped about so vigorously that he was soon wobbly-legged and gasping for breath. Just as I was hoping that someone in the class was an expert at CPR, he gave up and headed unsteadily for his room.
When the class ended, the rest of us returned to our rooms, some to find neat piles of mail outside their doors, thanks to the reliable Herman. I had only a small patch of singed carpet because the notes I had asked Hank to send me, “springes to catch woodcocks,” had not yet begun to arrive.
Two days later, with my week at Golden Sunset half gone, I had made no progress; in fact, I had regressed. Laura’s workouts had left me stiff throughout my body and it was obvious that Darcy and Complin disliked me, although the latter disliked everybody. I know I am not Mr. Congeniality, but neither am I Vlad the Impaler or Jack the Ripper …I hope.
The next day I received the first of Hank’s notes:
Dear Elmer–
Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here. Regards to Willa.
Hank.
As instructed, he had labelled it “No. 1.” The same day, Willa learned that a letter and a birthday card had not reached her.
It was time for some serious detecting. Either Herman was stealing the mail — but why only Willa’s personal things? — or someone else was pilfering it after he delivered it.
