“Because that’s what she does,” I’d told him. “She pegs the man she wants. She gets near him. She moves in. October nineteenth is when she moved in with Reeve.”
“Huh. She moves fast,” Joe had said.
I intended to move faster.
Using a piece of the hotel stationary from the bedside table, I wrote down, August 30 to October 19 – hotel. This I placed in the first spot on the bed.
Besides People magazine, Amber had only been photographed with Reeve a few times, and those I’d had to search the Internet for hours to find. I’d printed them all for my file, and now I laid them out on the row in no particular order since none of them referenced a date except one. I put that one last. It was captioned MEMORIAL DAY AT THE PALM SPRINGS RESORT – the very place I was staying. It was the last reference to a location that Joe and I had been able to find for her. Though he’d said he’d only investigate Amber, Joe had gone so far as to learn that Reeve’s Beverly Park home had been undergoing renovations and had been completely uninhabited for most of the previous year. Joe figured Reeve had been resort hopping during that time. Currently, he was in the process of tracking down Reeve’s travels for the summer months, trying to determine where he’d gone and if Amber had been with him. It was a slow task since Reeve traveled a lot, always using his own jet. Private flight manifests weren’t always easy to find, it turned out, nor were they always accurate.
After the Palm Springs resort pic came the transcription of Amber’s message. I’d typed it out so I could refer to it easily. The date on the answering machine had said August 17. Three whole months after she had last been photographed. Three whole months before I’d heard that cryptic message. I wanted to blame my mother for that, wanted to believe she’d been too lost in her head to remember to tell me she had a message waiting. But it was just as likely she didn’t tell me because I hadn’t visited her in months, and what was the urgency of calling me to ask about a blue raincoat?
I tried not to think too much about the lost months. It would be too easy for the guilt to overwhelm me.
The message was the last time anyone had seen or heard from Amber. She’d simply vanished after that. When Joe had called a PR representative of Reeve’s to inquire about how he might get hold of her, he’d been given a scripted response: “Mr. Sallis and Ms. Pries have ended their relationship. We are unaware of Ms. Pries’s current whereabouts.” The woman wouldn’t even say when they’d broken up, but when Joe asked if Reeve was seeing anyone now, he’d been given a definitive no.
Reeve was photographed mid-September at an event with another woman and again at a Halloween party with yet another woman, both unnamed. These pictures started a new row on the bed. Next to them, I placed the paper that I’d written the statement from Reeve’s PR on. On another piece of stationary I wrote the newest information: James Pries murdered – October. This I held onto as I studied everything laid out in front of me, hoping it would connect with something, anything.
But no matter how I tried to look at it, I couldn’t get James Pries’s murder to fit. Amber called me in August. Reeve was seen dating others by September. Common sense put her disappearance between the call and the first event he attended without her. Her father’s death was after that.
But despite what I’d said to Joe, my gut told me it was relevant. When I returned everything to my file folder an hour later, the paper with James Pries’s murder was included.
I ordered brunch from room service and spent the rest of the day in my suite reading anything I could find about the Greek mafia on the Internet. I learned about the Philadelphia Greek Mob and all the key players. I hunted for any connections to the Sallis name. When I’d exhausted the topic, I ordered room service for dinner. Then I looked again for Amber, hoping for something I might have missed in previous searches.
And then Reeve. I scoured the Web for pictures of him, for articles. I read everything I found, even though I’d read it all before. Then I read it again.
When night fell and my eyes couldn’t stare at a screen another minute, I shut my laptop and peered into the mirror above the desk I’d been working at. “Well,” I said to my red-eyed reflection. “Time to face what you’ve been ignoring for the last twenty-four hours. I fucked up with Reeve.”
I’d told myself that I’d cooped myself up because I had to research. The truth was, I’d wanted to be in my room in case he’d called. I’d convinced myself he’d reach out, that he’d give me a second chance. Hell, to be honest, I wasn’t even sure what I’d done wrong. Too many years had passed since I’d last seduced anyone, and I just didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Didn’t that deserve another shot?
The idea that he might not give me one – that he likely wouldn’t – was unbearable.
I rested my face in my palm and willed the emotions to stay below the surface as I said the words over and over, “I fucked up, Amber. I fucked up.”
It was my imagination, no doubt about it – the words were even direct from a memory, and not new – but I heard her voice clear and soothing in my head. “This is only today. Tomorrow’s going to be something else entirely.”
CHAPTER 5
The next day, I revised my plan. Reeve may have wanted nothing to do with me, but Amber was still missing, and I was still determined to find her. There was less than a week before I had to be back at the studio in Burbank, which meant only a handful of days left at the Palm Springs resort. Though I didn’t know how long she’d stayed, I did know that Amber had spent some time here. Surely someone on the staff had to remember her? The trick was finding the right staff.
Along with my accordion file, I had stuffed a few items I’d worn for different shoots in the room safe including brown tinted contacts and a brunette hairpiece. The wig was professional and nearly impossible to detect, especially when I wore it under a hat, which I paired with a sundress over my swimsuit and headed out. First stop, the pools. Amber had always loved the water, almost as much as I did. She liked to drift and float and dry off by lying in the sun. Then repeat. Reeve’s pool was a lap-only pool except in the mornings when it was reserved only for him. I doubted there was any way he’d have let her splash around during his laps. Also, not only was his early swim time not the best hour for sunning, but Amber usually wasn’t even awake at that time of morning. Lucky for her there were six other pools on the property that were open all day. I decided to start at the one farthest away from my suite and work my way back.
The hotel didn’t provide lifeguards, so I set my sights instead on the towel boys. At pool number one, I sat in the hot tub for fifteen minutes first to make my approach seem ordinary. Standing in front of the attendant dripping wet didn’t hurt either. I was a woman who knew how to use her wiles, after all. My prep was wasted, though. The towel boy there hadn’t worked at the resort long enough to be helpful. I repeated the same routine at the second pool only to find that towel boy was new too. Pool three’s towel boy was a woman who grunted at me when I tried to talk to her. Pool four was the family pool – Amber wouldn’t have been caught dead in a place overrun with children. I went through the routine anyway, in case the towel boys rotated where they worked. Though that one had been there the summer before, he’d been working in housekeeping then.
By number five, I was starting to get frustrated. This was a quieter pool. I dipped my feet in, which calmed me down. Centered me. I was ready to perform when I stood up and made my way to the towel bar.
The attendant was young. Probably early twenties. His eyes were glued to his phone as I came walking up so he didn’t see me at first. “Hi,” I said, dripping in front of the counter.
He didn’t look up. “Need a towel?”
“Yeah.”
He grabbed one off the stack of linens beside him and scooted it across the counter.
“Can I have an extra one, please?”
He glanced up at me. “Uh, sure.” I had his attention now. He pocketed his phone and reached into a bin of unfolded towels behind him.
“Here, take one of these. Just came from the dryer.”
He tried to brush my hand as I took it from him, but I didn’t let him. He had to work to get rewards from me.
“Oh, thank you. That’s…” – I held the towel like a cape behind me, making sure the attendant’s eyes were where I wanted them before wrapping it around me – “nice.” Okay, maybe he didn’t have to work that hard.
“Can I get you anything else?” He smiled, completely accommodating now.
I pretended to consider. “Have you worked here long, uh, Eric?” I asked, reading the name on his tag.
“Going on three years.”
“Then maybe you can help me with something else.” I leaned forward over the counter, hoping I appeared flirty instead of eager. “My friend spent some time here last summer. She was my age. Blond. My size. I was wondering if you might remember her. Her name’s Amber.”
He seemed truly disappointed. “I’m sorry. There’s way too many girls that come through here for me to remember —”
“I have a picture.” I fished into the oversized beach bag at my feet and pulled out the Internet photo I’d grabbed from my file before leaving my room that morning. I’d chosen the one taken at the resort. Though I had some original pictures from a long time ago, I wasn’t ready to admit that I’d known Amber in my youth, in case – God, I was paranoid – my questioning somehow got back to Reeve. Besides, the resort shot was more recent, and I thought seeing her in context might be helpful.
The attendant peered at the photo. I watched as his face changed to recognition. Then to concern. He was fidgety when he pushed it back toward me. “Uh, no. Definitely not. I don’t know anything about her.”
He wasn’t a good liar. And why was he lying anyway?
I leaned in a little farther hoping a view of the girls could persuade him to tell the truth. “Are you sure? I know she was here. She was dating the resort owner and —”
The attendant began shaking his head before I’d even finished speaking. “Nope. Don’t know her. Excuse me but I have to get back to folding these towels. Have a nice day.” He turned completely so that his back was to me.
I stood there for another minute before picking up my bag and heading for a nearby deck chair. I slumped down and shot a glance back at the towel bar. The attendant had acted weird, hadn’t he? Or was I just imagining things again?
“You’re one crazy woman,” a voice said behind me.
I turned to find a man wearing a Sallis resort shirt picking up a used towel off the empty seat beside me. “Excuse me?”
The man gathered another few towels from the ground, speaking to me without looking at me, his voice low. “You can’t ask about Sallis’s women and expect anyone to tell you shit.”
My brow creased until I realized he must have overheard the exchange at the counter. And if my interest hadn’t been piqued before, it was now. “Does he tell you not to say anything?”
“Sallis? Not exactly. It’s unspoken. His women are not to be touched, not to be talked about. End of story. Not an out-and-out rule. The staff just knows.” He said it like the subject was over.
It wasn’t. “But how do you know? There has to be something that began the idea in the first place.” Like, Reeve planted it. It would be so typical of him with his control-everything-yet-seem-aloof desire. I wouldn’t doubt it for a moment.
But the attendant simply shrugged. “No idea.”
He shot a look over at me and must have seen the determination on my face because he stopped what he was doing and sat on the chair next to me. Perhaps overdramatically, he looked around to see who was watching us, then leaned toward me and said in a hushed voice, “Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, but there was an incident. Once. A cook who made a not-nice comment about the lady Sallis was dating.”
Though I felt silly doing so, I lowered my own voice. “What happened to him? Did he get himself fired?”
“He got himself dead.”
My stomach dropped. “Dead? For a simple comment?” Then I realized the guy was laughing. “You’re making this up.”
He grinned, straightening. “Yeah, I am.”
“Jerk,” I said playfully, returning his grin. I looked him over now, discreetly behind my sunglasses. He was cute. A nice-guy sort. Clean-cut and well mannered. He probably didn’t try anything on the first date. Maybe not the second either. He’d probably be someone that would be really good for me.
And I wasn’t interested in the slightest.
“Sorry,” he said, not at all sorry. “Couldn’t help myself. Really, there’s no story to back up my point. Just trust me – Sallis is a good employer, but he’s not the guy you want to cross. He’s the kind of guy you respect. There isn’t anyone here who will fuck that up.”
“You sound pretty confident about that.” I narrowed my eyes. “You must have worked here a while. Were you here last summer?”
He laughed. “Seriously? After what I just said?”
“You gave me no reason to be afraid of the question.” My tone was serious, but I let the teasing show in my expression. “Come on. I won’t tell anyone. Just… did you? You did, didn’t you? Work here.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “Shit. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Let me see the picture.” He looked around once more before taking it from me. After only a second of studying it, he returned it. “That’s Ms. Pries.”
“Yes! Yes, that’s her!” It was surprising how overcome I was just by the simple sound of her name. How happy I was to find someone who had, so far, only verified that Amber had been there. A fact that wasn’t at all new to me. “So you knew her?”
“I knew of her. Everyone knew of her. Never talked to her or anything, but I saw her around.”
“Okay, okay.” I was too excited to think. “Do you know anyone who did talk to her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someone at the spa. I heard she was there a lot. But no one’s going to tell you shit there, so don’t bother.”
I made a mental note to book a massage and admonished myself for not thinking of that already. “Do you know when she left?” He was shaking his head again so I encouraged him. “A ballpark time frame. The season. Anything.”
His knee bounced as he considered. “She left in June maybe. Probably. Same time as Sallis did. Before you ask, no, I don’t know where they went. Sallis didn’t come back here until Halloween.”
“With her?”
Another head shake. “Alone.”
I bit my lip. “And you don’t have any idea where he went? No guesses?”
“You don’t give up, do you?” He laughed again. “I honestly don’t know. Doesn’t Sallis have a home somewhere? Maybe there. Or another resort. I’m sure he stays in some of his other places throughout the year like he does here.”
There were nearly a hundred Sallis resorts around the world. Saying he could be at any one of them provided no help. “Who would know what his schedule is?”
“Beats the shit out of me. And probably not a good idea to go asking around about that either.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate this.” I fished in my bag for my wallet and pushed a hundred toward him.
He waved my bill away. “No way. It was bad enough I was saying things I shouldn’t say. I don’t want to be accused of taking money for it. I’d rather have my excuse be that I was dazzled by a beautiful woman.”
“You flatter me.” Part of me wished I could be charmed so easily. Wished I could be charmed at all by someone like him.
“Nah. I still think you’re crazy.” He hesitated. “But if you’re into a crazy good time, come by here when I get off work at seven. I’m Greg, by the way.”
“Trish.” I didn’t shake his hand. And I wouldn’t meet him. I’d gotten everything I wanted from him already. But he’d been helpful so I said, “I’ll consider it. Greg.”
I wondered if he would have asked me out or been as forthcoming if he’d known I’d been on a date with his boss just two nights be
fore. Did that put me in the unspoken category of untouchable? I decided it was best not to ask.
I sat back on the deck chair and considered my next move for several minutes after Greg left. According to him, there wasn’t any reason to continue my interviews of the resort staff since they wouldn’t tell me anything. Of course, he’d still given me information even after he’d said asking anyone was pointless. Which meant that I might still have a chance to learn something. If I got lucky. Or if I played my part well.
Either way, I was too tired to keep at it that day. A growl of my stomach led me to La Cabana, the poolside cantina. Not wanting to wait for table service, I settled at a counter seat and ordered chicken street tacos and a glass of Sauvignon blanc from the bartender – Lucy, according to her name tag. I kept the wig on, but took off my hat, careful not to disturb the piece underneath, and set it on the counter. While I waited to be served, I pulled out my cell phone from my purse and looked up the number for the resort spa. By the time Lucy returned with my food, I had an appointment at ten the next morning for a massage.
As I ate, I realized that though speaking with Greg felt satisfying, I really hadn’t learned anything useful. I knew before he’d told me that Amber had been at the resort the previous summer. Now, I supposed, I knew she was gone by the end of June. Maybe. Probably. He’d also told me that by Halloween she was no longer with Reeve. But I’d already guessed that because of the picture from September that showed Reeve with another woman. Actually, the most interesting thing I’d discovered from the conversation was that at least some of Reeve’s staff believed that he wouldn’t want them talking about him.
And that information was definitely not helpful.
Sighing, I pushed away the remainder of my tacos and laid my head on the counter.
“Looks like you need a refill,” Lucy said.
I followed her eyes to my empty wineglass. “Yeah. I think one more.”
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