The Doll's Trunk Murder — Helen Reilly

Her eyes were pools of FRIGHT.

Norah Tait stared out of the window. Fear held her body rigid. Suddenly she turned to the man at the inn table with her.
“Let's go, Hilary!” At once!”
What had Norah seen in the gathering storm? She would not tell. But whatever it was, it sent her and wealthy Hilary Mollett out into a raging blizzard on the last lap of a perilous journey.

They never reached their destination. Snow, blocking the roads in huge drifts, forced them to take refuge in a lonely house -- a house with an ugly past that exploded in violence and murder.

Hours later they heard a man cry out: “In the closet upstairs there's…blood!”