Evil in All Its Disguises

by Hilary Davidson

  “Your experience? Based on what?” Irritation crackled in my voice. “Gavin told me you were too much of a coward to set foot in Mexico.”

  “Did he really?” Martin’s voice was still quiet, but there was something sly dancing at the edge of it.

  “He didn’t call you a coward. I’m calling you a coward,” I clarified, guilty at the thought of getting Gavin in trouble with his boss. “Gavin told me about the kidnapping threat, and that you wouldn’t come to Mexico.”

  “I see.”

  I tried to keep my voice steady, even though my blood pressure was surging. “Martin, there’s something seriously wrong here. Gavin wants to think Skye went to another hotel, but she didn’t just run off. I think she might have been targeted for kidnapping because of her relationship with you.”

  “Her what?” He sounded genuinely perplexed, but I knew what a good actor he could be.

  “Don’t start, Martin. I don’t care.”

  “But I—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I just want you to lean on Gavin and Apolinar.”

  “All right, but I want something in exchange,” Martin said.

  “Do you really? And what might that be?”

  “I want you to be ready to leave Mexico at a moment’s notice.”

  That stopped me short. “What? Why?”

  “I can’t explain right now, except that you’re in a very dangerous spot. Whatever you do, don’t get into a taxi or a car with anyone you don’t know. I’m going to get you out, but the devil’s still got the details knotted up.”

  “Do you think someone wants to kidnap me?”

  There was a long pause. “Yes, Lily. In fact, I know someone does. But don’t breathe a word to anyone, especially not Gavin. Try to act as carefree as you can.”

  “You want me to act carefree?” Incredulity curdled my voice. Carefree brought to mind the Fred Astaire movie, which had Ginger Rogers sailing through much of it in a hypnotist-induced carefree trance. “Skye has been kidnapped, and I should be… carefree?”

  “For now, yes. Don’t let your guard down with anyone. And stay away, as far as you can, from Gavin.”

  I was speechless. Martin was acting as if he were in the same Cold War spy movie that Skye had seemed to think she was in on Friday night.

  “Martin, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but all I want is for you to make sure your people look for Skye.”

  “I will. But, sweetheart, please don’t be difficult—”

  “Martin, don’t ever call me sweetheart again,” I said, and hung up.

  CHAPTER 25

  The restaurant was a mirror image of the nightclub, with identical wrought-iron grilles, but the walls were painted bright turquoise. It gave the effect of standing inside a fishbowl, one with bars over its glass. Denny was waiting for me just inside the door.

  “Lily, can I talk to you for a second?” she said, touching my elbow. I followed behind a privacy screen of carved dark wood. Through small openings in the floral design, I could see that Ruby and Roberta were already seated at a table on the far side of the room, well out of earshot. “Let me preface this by saying that I know this is total crap, but there was a complaint made about you.”

  “A complaint? Are you kidding?” I almost laughed.

  “Pete Dukermann is claiming you came to his room and trashed it.”

  “That’s insane. I went to his room, but he’d already demolished it. It looked like a hurricane had hit. There’s broken glass everywhere. He punched a hole in the wall.” I lowered my voice. “He’s got cocaine in there. He’s out of his head.”

  “I know he is,” Denny said. “I swear, no one is taking him seriously. I’m trying to get him out of the hotel, actually, because he’s a creep and a slimeball and he’s only going to cause problems. The only thing is… you went to Pete’s room?” Her expression was incredulous. “Why on earth would you do that?”

  I dropped my head, embarrassed to my core. There was no shame in the travel-writing world greater than a visit to a hotel guestroom inhabited by Pete Dukermann. “I wanted to see if he’d gotten any emails from Skye. He hadn’t, but we talked and he showed me pictures he’d taken of her yesterday. Then I saw a necklace exactly like the one Skye was wearing last night, and Pete claimed she’d given it to him.”

  “Excuse me? Skye gave Pete a necklace?”

  “Pete said it was because his wife dumped him, and Skye didn’t want the necklace because she was mad at her boyfriend… it was a ridiculous explanation. I thought he might have done something to Skye, so I went storming through his suite. I know it was stupid. You don’t have to tell me that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t do anything wrong.” A waiter walked over and Denny looked up at him. “Oh, hi.”

  “I wanted to let you know that everything is ready.” He glanced at me, looking me over, before turning his face back to Denny. “Do you want us to start serving lunch?”

  “Give it a couple more minutes, Guillermo. Thanks.”

  He turned and walked back to the kitchen.

  “There’s one other thing,” I said. “Have you seen Pete? He has scratches on his arms and hand. I can’t help but wonder if it might have something to do with Skye.”

  Denny’s face was pale. “Do you think he hurt her?”

  “I don’t know. In a way, I can’t imagine it, but then again… I just don’t know.” The truth was, everything was happening so fast and everyone was acting so suspiciously that I couldn’t tell which way was up anymore.

  “Don’t even think about Pete. By the time you get back from the tour this afternoon, I’ll have you, Ruby and Roberta in another hotel. Things are moving slowly, but that’s going to happen.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got another call to make on that front. Let the maître d’ take you to the table. I’ll be right back.”

  Before I could protest that I could find my own way to the table—the restaurant was all but empty, after all—Denny patted my arm and went through the door. The maître d’ gave me a gracious bow. As he led me to the table, I noticed that the sky had darkened again and rain was starting to tap lightly on the big umbrellas over the tables outside. As I got closer to the table, I realized Gavin was sitting there, across from Ruby. He stood and held out a chair for me. I would be seated next to him, and across from Roberta. Don’t let your guard down with anyone. And stay away, as far as you can, from Gavin. That was what Martin had advised me. So much for listening to Martin, I thought, taking the seat next to Gavin and trying to smile.

  Ruby didn’t smile back. “Well, look who’s here. Maybe now we can order something. I’m starving!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” I murmured.

  “It’s fine. You didn’t keep anyone waiting, Lily,” Gavin said.

  “It’s not fine!” Ruby said. “Young people don’t know how to tell time today. Plus, they got no manners. You’d think they were raised in barns.”

  Everyone, even Roberta—who’d been staring at her water glass sadly, as if waiting for the miraculous appearance of wine—looked at Ruby.

  “I can tell you what happened,” Ruby added. “It’s all on account of TV. People see actors being all stupid on there, and it’s monkey see, monkey do.” She shook her head. “It’s like bringing Satan into your living room.”

  Gavin signaled the waiter, clearly avoiding eye contact with Ruby.

  “Satan?” I asked.

  “Lucifer. The devil.” Ruby eyed me, as if unsure whether I was disagreeing with her or simply slow.

  “I know who Satan is, though I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” I said. “I meant that I didn’t understand how he lives inside a television. I think he can do better.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re the funny one, aren’t you?”

  “Not really. It’s just that whenever anyone starts talking about Satan, I think of Vincent Price playing Mr. Scratch,” I explained.

  “The Story of Mankind!” Rub
y’s voice rose, and she let out a wheezy, cackling sound. It took me a second to realize she was laughing. “That was a fine movie.”

  Why was I surprised that she knew the film? She’d probably seen it when it was first released in 1957. To Gavin, I said, “Any word about Skye?”

  His mouth twitched. “No. I told you, I don’t really expect anything.”

  Ruby’s ears perked up. “Skye McDermott? She’s here?”

  “No,” Gavin said, and the same moment I said, “Yes.”

  Ruby looked back and forth between us. “Well, which is it?”

  Gavin’s words tumbled out, clipped and rushed. “Skye had to bow out of the press trip because of a personal issue.” He shot me a warning look, as if challenging me to contradict his official version of the story.

  “Skye was here, in the hotel, last night,” I said. “We were sitting out on the balcony around ten. Then she went inside and she didn’t come back. She just vanished.”

  Ruby frowned, but before she said anything, Gavin filled the empty air. “Lily’s getting spooked by our resident ghost.”

  “The hotel has a ghost?” Ruby said. “I don’t truck with places that have ghosts.”

  “It’s part of a local legend.”

  “Whatever has happened to Skye isn’t a local legend,” I snapped. “It’s not part of a ghost story. And it hasn’t been properly explained.”

  “Legend has it that the man who built the hotel was in love with a woman who was married to another man,” Gavin said, as if I hadn’t spoken. “He built this estate to be their castle, where they could meet. Then, one night, she came here to meet him, and discovered he’d been murdered. She ran away, into the night, and was never seen again. Some people say they’ve seen her walking on the cliffs, or they hear the scream she made when she discovered her lover’s body.”

  Before I could say a word, Ruby spoke up. “That’s a stupid story. The man was probably a gangster. The same people who killed him probably killed her, too.”

  “People have different theories about what really happened, of course,” Gavin allowed.

  “I say it’s stupid.” Ruby raised her voice for emphasis. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

  Whatever argument might have erupted was halted by Denny’s arrival. “Oh, I’m so glad everyone’s here!” she said, looking far happier than she had reason to with the group gathered at the table. “And I’m so pleased to see that Gavin Stroud, managing director of Pantheon Worldwide’s operations in Mexico, has joined us.”

  “Managing director of Pantheon Worldwide’s operations in Latin America, Denny,” Gavin corrected her.

  “I’m sorry,” Denny said, giving Gavin a searching look. “I didn’t realize that news was official yet.”

  “It’s official if I say it’s official, isn’t it? You’re going to have to keep up if you’re going to work for me, Denny.” Gavin looked around the table, taking in everyone’s startled expressions. “I’ve been managing director of Pantheon’s Mexican division since its inception. More recently, I’ve taken on the role of managing director for all of Latin America. I’m glad to have all of you here.” Gavin smiled at me. “To celebrate your arrival at the Hotel Cerón, we’re going to have a champagne toast, followed by lunch.”

  On cue, two waiters came out, one carrying a silver tray with crystal flutes. I noticed the glasses were already filled, which suggested that this was more of a cheap-sparkling-wine toast than a champagne one. As if reading my mind, Denny said, “We were going to do a rosé champagne, but the crate is stuck in customs at the moment, so this is Taittinger’s Blanc de Blancs.”

  My eyebrows went up. That was an expensive wine to pour for us, especially at lunch. “Oh, delicious,” Roberta said as a waiter set a flute down in front of me.

  Ruby glanced at Roberta, then at me. She tilted her head in Denny’s direction, and I noticed that Denny was still standing, and her eyes were on Gavin. Denny’s hands gripped the chair in front of her, as if she needed to hold onto something solid. Her face was blank, but her mouth was open slightly, as if she wanted to answer Gavin’s curt words but didn’t know where to begin. Gavin, while being courtly with me, seemed to enjoy being abrasive with her. It made me wonder if Gavin, after years of being the underling, was showing his teeth now that he was top dog.

  The maître d’ intervened, pulling the chair out for Denny with an exaggerated flourish. “Thank you,” Denny said, taking her seat, but not looking at all sure about being at the table.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Gavin said, lifting his glass of champagne. “Here’s to your stay in the historic resort city of Acapulco. It’s famous for having been a playground for movie stars and important people in the past. However, I hope that you will find much to interest you in the present day.”

  I took a small sip of champagne. It was delicious, but I set the glass down again quickly. The last thing I needed was something to dull the edges of the fear that had grown inside me; I regretted letting my guard down the night before, and I wasn’t going to repeat that. As if I needed another cautionary tale, the sight of Roberta gulping down her champagne in one frantic swoop reminded me of my mother. Not that my mother ever bothered with champagne; her poison of choice was gin, though she also gravitated to cheap red wines. There was a fine edge between savoring a drink and needing a drink, and I was determined to stay on the side that let me remain in control.

  While the first course—a gazpacho with chunky mounds of tomato and cucumber rising artistically in the center of the bowl—was served, Denny chatted about the clean-up of Acapulco Bay and how clean the water was today. Gavin leaned over and whispered, “Is there something wrong with the champagne?”

  I shook my head.

  “I only asked for it to be served because I know you like it. At least, I thought you did.”

  “That was kind of you, Gavin.” I took a miniscule sip. I’d noticed Roberta, across from me, eyeing my almost-full glass intently, and as I set it down, I leaned forward to obscure Gavin’s view. “What’s the next resort over called?” I asked him, staring out the window. His gaze mirrored mine, and as he answered, I slid my glass toward Roberta. The next time I looked at it, the glass was empty and returned to its original position.

  The odd thing was, I started feeling strangely light-headed and dizzy for someone who’d only had two tiny sips of champagne. Gavin pressing me to drink only made me suspicious. Maybe he didn’t want good champagne to go to waste; fair enough. But perhaps there was more to it than that. Martin’s words played in a loop in my head. Don’t let your guard down with anyone. And stay away, as far as you can, from Gavin. He was paranoid about security, I knew that, and I understood that he was afraid the kidnapping threat directed against him could boomerang in my direction. But warning me away from Gavin wasn’t part of that. Between Gavin’s angry words about Martin and Martin’s not-at-all subtle warnings about his onetime protégé, I was beginning to suspect that the two of them were at war.

  “When did you become head of Pantheon’s Latin American division?” I asked.

  Gavin seemed to sit a little straighter. “A month ago. I should say I’m the de facto head of Pantheon’s Latin American division. The board of directors hasn’t made that official yet.” He lowered his voice. “I’m doing the work, I just don’t have the title yet. The truth is, it’s a belated recognition of my work in Mexico. No new Pantheon venture has ever performed like this one.”

  “But the hotel’s so empty,” I pointed out. As I said the words, Denny’s head whipped around, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Oh, that’s only because of the renovation and restoration work,” Gavin said.

  “Are elves doing the work?” I asked. “Because I don’t see any sign of it.”

  Gavin’s eyes held mine, and that tight little smile reappeared. “Then we’re doing our job, keeping everything quiet and under wraps. Of course, the more obvious work won’t start until next week, after you’ve left. In November,
we’ll be relaunching under the Pantheon banner. The hotel is already booked solid for the winter months.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable.

  I started to ask another question, but the room seemed to spin and my head started to pound. “Excuse me,” I said, standing.

  “Is there something wrong, Lily?” Gavin asked. “Are you feeling quite well?”

  “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

  It was horrible, trying to stroll along as if everything were normal, when I felt suddenly sick. I had a quick vision of Ava Gardner at the end of The Killers, when she was meeting with the insurance investigator and trying to pretend everything was fine; she was nervous, though, and even before she got up to go to the bathroom, the investigator knew something was wrong, so he was ready when the hit men showed up. Only I didn’t feel like Ava’s predatory character in that movie; I was pretty sure I was the chump. When I looked back, everyone at the table was staring after me.

  In the bathroom, I rested my head against the cool aquamarine tile of the wall. My insides were quivering. Skye was missing. Martin was telling me I was in danger. My body was telling me something was wrong. Two sips of champagne. Really? I didn’t know much about knock-out drugs, but it was hard to believe that was enough to do it. On the other hand, I felt as if someone was beating my head in with a hammer. Could I have suddenly picked up a flu bug? I’d felt a bit off on Friday night, but I’d assumed that was because I was worried about Skye. Now I was cold and shaky and, when I looked in the mirror, my skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. My stomach knotted so tightly it made me gasp and double over. I rushed into a stall and threw up. Afterwards, I rinsed out my mouth and applied fresh lipstick. A fresh coat of paint isn’t going to cover up what’s wrong with you, chided Claudia’s voice.

  Maybe Martin was right after all, I thought.

  If you’re starting to trust Martin, there’s something wrong with your head again, said the voice. You’re the only person who cares about finding Skye. If you leave, Gavin and Apolinar will drop it. No one else cares what happened to her.