She glared at the intruder. A woman. That doesn't help.

She was wide awake now. People were moving around upstairs.

Well, this isn't going well. Selena thought as the mystery woman gave her a nearly animalistic glare. "Wait here... I'll be right back with some help."

Following the sounds of bustling people and the smell of fresh coffee, Selena easily found part of the guest list in the kitchen. After taking a moment to admire the industrial size of said kitchen, miss Browning headed towards the young officer fellow from last night.

"We have a... er, problem in the conservatory. There's a dead gentleman and a strange woman at the bottom of a pool." Selena explained while fiddling with her fingers. "Oh, and the woman seems somewhat feral. So there's that."

Angie gratefully accepted the warm mug from Jeffrey and added a bit of sugar. But she'd barely any time to enjoy the drink before another guest burst in with news of a dead man in the conservatory. She almost dropped her coffee upon hearing this.

She wasn't eager to investigate this new problem, having lost her husband just hours before. She looked at Jeffrey, grateful that there was an officer of the law present to help keep things in order.

Jeff cursed, wishing for the first time in his life to back on his father's asteroid. Mining for helium-3 wasn't what you might call exciting, but at least no one died on a regular basis.

"I'll find my own way to the pool, you go locate Ms. Death and meet me there."

Selena nodded and went off to find their hostess. Instead of knocking on bedroom doors and scaring everyone else, the best thing to do would be checking in all the other non-sleeping rooms of the mansion. Which there were a lot.

Thankfully, Selena was able to find Delia in rather short order, as the ghost wrangler was enjoying a drink of some kind on the porch.

"Miss Delia, I'm afraid we have a body in the building. In the pool at the back of the mansion."

Delia took a sip of her (black) coffee, and studied Selena.

"Is it a new body?" she finally asked. "Just...to confirm."

"Uh, yes. It's that Mr. Dint guy." Selena said slightly taken aback by Delia's nonchalant attitude about the whole affair.

-------

Hearing hurried footsteps by... two or was it three individuals?... either way, it was clear something was up. Again. With a sigh Neal got up from his chair and casually made his way to the kitchen. Giving a slight nod of acknowledgment to the recently widowed Mrs. Baxter, he grabbed a pre-made biscuit from one of the cupboards and a cup of coffee before leaving without a word.

"Well, sorry," Delia replied grouchily. "But you have to admit that it would be just as strange for someone to move Baxter's body as for a new one to be found."

She paused for a moment, refilled her cup from the carafe sitting atop the wall, drained the cup, then shook her head slightly.

"Ok, so...there's a new death. Did you tell the copper? Dealing with bodies isn't really my expertise."

"Yes. He told me to go find you. I gue..."

"Oi, what's going on now?" Neal interrupted before taking a final bite of biscuit.

"More bodies," Delia replied crisply. "Apparently Officer Jeff needs backup, because he can't handle it. Or something. Follow me--we're headed to the conservatory."

Delia waved her hand, downed another cup of coffee, then abandoned her cup next to the carafe and headed through the winding halls of the mansion toward the back.

"At this rate, we may need to set aside a room of the dead," Delia muttered.

Neal smiled slightly at the thought of the young officer needing backup. "They always do." he said mostly to himself.

As they followed Delia to the conservatory, Selena hesitated a moment at the staircase. Quickly wondering if she should check on Malcom or not, she decided it would be best to stay with the group at present. Especially since she was the first person to make contact with the semi-feral woman... kindof.

"A fireplace can work for that sort of thing." Decker said dryly in response to the comment regarding a room for the dead.

Delia grinned and shook her head at Neal.

"They're already freaked out," she whispered. "Sticking dead people in odd places will just make them act weirder than they already do around dead folks."

A thump-kerflump and then a crashing sound could be heard beyond the kitchen doorway. A tall, disheveled woman stumbled across the threshold a moment later, her hair streaming as she teetered across the tile floor. She was wearing a sleep mask.

"MY EYES! MY EYES! THEY HAVE BEEN STABBED IN MY SLEEP! I HAVE BEEN BLINDED! POLICE! POLICE!"

"Ma'am? Excuse me, you're still wearing your mask," Anna said, staring at the crazy-haired woman over the top of a mug of coffee. She had the vague feeling that something important was going on, what with the bustling in and out of rooms, but she was still too sleep-dazed to be concerned yet.

"Mask? No, I made absolutely certain to wash my avocado facial off last night before reapplying my makeup..." Cynthia trailed off. "Oh. The sleep mask. Of course. Silly me."

She sighed and tore the mask off, then procured a hair clasp from somewhere in the folds of her very shiny (but 100% vegan) kimono and pinned her hair back with it. It wouldn't do to look frowzy if any of the men showed up.

"You can never be too sure, though, about the eyes," she said as she dove at the refrigerator, looking to see if there was any soy milk for the coffee. "We once had a gardener who had his eyes plucked out by one of my father's bald eagles."

Cynthia sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of coffee, gesturing at the thick, dark makeup ringing her eyes. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm all made up after just getting out of bed. You see, one must always be prepared for the spotlight when you're as important and influential as I am. The paparazzi are like a flock of vultures, and they will swoop down on you at any moment. So, I always put on a fresh face of makeup before bed because I never know when I might have to flee the house because of a fire or heaven knows what."