Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

lost!” I walked toward her, laughing because she continued to wave at me. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
    “Yoo-hoo!” she called again.
    I stopped a few yards from where she stood and looked more intently at her.
    “Yoo-hoo!” she said, and continued to wave in the same exact way she’d been doing for the past minute or so.
    Quick shivers ran down my arms as I realized I could see right through her. It wasn’t really Grace. It was a hologram.
    Either that, or I had just crossed over into the Loony Zone.
    “Oo-kay,” I murmured, refusing to be sucked into madness. Grace was a great trickster and I tried to drum up some appreciation for her cleverness. But it didn’t work. I just felt stupid. Were there hidden cameras recording my reactions? Maybe we’d show home movies later and everyone would have a good laugh.
    “Fine.” I turned and walked back to the other end of the hall, determined to start over. I’d lost my way somewhere along the line. If I could retrace my steps, I would figure it out. I was just a little stressed out, that’s all. And who could blame me? We’d all had a few stressful days.
    First, there was Bella’s horrible murder by cyanide. Then there was the balcony railing that was tampered with to near-deadly results. Then Kiki’s fall down the stairs that could’ve meant her death. And let’s not forget the strange woman who had answered my boyfriend’s phone. That could ruin a girl’s day.
    So, yes, I could admit I’d been going through more than my share of stress, which had clearly brought about a hysterical reaction. The result was that I no longer recognized the landmarks around me. And maybe I was having problems with concentration, too, because I must have made a directional error or two. No big deal. It happened all the time.
Recalculating,
as my car’s GPS would say.
    But as I stared from one unfamiliar wall to the other, I remembered Vinnie’s complaints and Grace’s warning to watch my step. Suzie and Vinnie had told me that when Grace bought this house, she had gutted it to create her greatest game board ever: her own home.
    But moving entire hallways? Interchangeable wall panels? And carpets? A pretty window where a long hall had been? And there were paintings on these walls I’dnever seen before. Was everything in the house moveable? Computerized?
    There was nothing wrong with that, I supposed. A homeowner ought to be able to do whatever she wanted to do in her own home. Well, other than kill off her guests, of course.
    And didn’t that thought give me a warm, snuggly feeling inside?
    I glanced at the formal lighting fixtures that hung from the ceiling, then noticed more attractive sconces mounted on the walls. Soft circles of light highlighted the expensive artwork. I moved closer to look at the paintings. I reached out to touch the frames.
    There was nothing there!
    “Oh God, I’m going bananas.” But if I stepped back, the paintings reappeared. I waved my hand in the space where the painting was.
    “More holograms,” I muttered. Really good ones. I would have to compliment my hostess. If I ever saw her again.
    I turned and started to retrace my steps, walking back the way I’d come. Then I stopped. If the hall had been changed to this extent, could there also be a new trapdoor in the floor? Or was I being ridiculous?
    “I’m stressed out. Remember?” I reminded myself, and bit back an urgent need to scream. “Try to calm down.”
    And I was talking to myself again.
    I stood where I was and looked both ways down the shortened hall. I was afraid to go either way, afraid to take a step in case I fell through a trapdoor. Vinnie would tell me that it was a reasonable fear to have in this place. That fear would keep you alive, she would say.
    So here I was. Afraid to take another step in case of a trapdoor. Afraid of going crazy on the spot. Afraid if I didn’t move I would faint from hunger.
    Was there such a thing as hunger-induced psychosis?
    Hunger pangs won the day. I needed nourishment, soI made my move. Carefully tiptoeing along either side of the carpet runner, I retraced my steps back to the door leading into the library. I felt safe for a moment. I continued down the newly decorated hallway, past my bedroom, where I’d started out in the first place, and followed the usual route to the sweeping grand stairway.
    “I know where I am now.” And from there, I started over, heading for the west hall this time. No new décor, no trapdoors