A Flair For Flip-Flops (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 5)

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A Flair For Flip-Flops (The Sadie Kramer Flair Mysteries Book 5) Page 5

by Deborah Garner


  The room phone rang, and Sadie picked it up on the second ring, already knowing who would be on the other end of the call.

  “Did you see the news?” Myrtle said.

  “Yes, terrible,” Sadie said. “But not much more than we already figured.”

  “Still terrible.” Myrtle coughed, and Sadie realized she heard the chattering of voices in the background.

  “Where are you?” Sadie glanced at her watch, noting it was almost six o’clock.

  “The reception in the lobby,” Myrtle said. “I’m on the house phone. Are you coming down?”

  Sadie sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I can’t believe I forgot. I just got back from the spa about a half hour ago. Seems it drained my memory as well as my stress.”

  “Oh, I’m jealous,” Myrtle said. “I would have chosen that over this reception hour. Nothing but clusters of wealthy people gossiping and scarfing up the food. Speaking of which, they’re running low, but I can still grab some appetizers for you. The mini-taquitos are delicious.”

  “Well, I can’t resist mini-taquitos,” Sadie exclaimed. “I’ll throw something on and be right down. Is there an avocado sauce to go with them?” She started for the closet but stopped when an abrupt tug reminded her she wasn’t on a cordless phone.

  “The best ever,” Myrtle confirmed. “Sort of a mix between guacamole and salsa.” A crunching sound followed, presumably to let Sadie know what she was missing.

  “Be right there.” Sadie hung up the phone and rummaged through the clothing choices in her closet. If only she hadn’t spent so much time at Bertie’s Beach Baubles and talking with the young surfer, she might have had time to pick up something new at a beachside boutique. However, she never traveled without options. She tossed on a bright yellow tunic and black slacks. Fluffing her hair with a brush, she added the new flip-flop necklace and a favorite pair of black-and-yellow-striped clip-on earrings. Adorning Coco with her own new necklace of dogs with sunglasses, the two headed for the lobby.

  Myrtle was easy to spot, even as crowded as the cocktail hour gathering was. She clearly had Sadie’s funky fashion taste—quite unique and clever, if Sadie had her say about it—and was decked out in a ruffled white blouse with hot-pink polka dots and a flowing skirt in a similar pink shade. Her earlobes sparkled with flashy earrings too far away to specifically identify.

  Sadie worked her way through the crowd with numerous utterances of “Excuse me” until she finally stood beside Myrtle. So taken by the flashing lighthouse-design earrings, she almost forgot to say hello. She made a mental note to find out who the manufacturer was so she could order them in for Flair.

  “There you are!” Myrtle said. She handed Sadie an appetizer plate with mini-taquitos and avocado sauce. “I grabbed these for you since they were disappearing quickly. I don’t know if they’ll put more out or not.”

  “Excellent thinking, thanks,” Sadie said. “Anything interesting going on here?”

  “Just people-watching,” Myrtle said. “And listening to the chatter. Lots of comments about GQ.”

  Sadie nodded while biting into a mini-taquito. “I can imagine,” she said once she had a chance to swallow. “Some of these people must have been here for the dinner event last night.”

  “Unless they just checked in. Those oafs were certainly here.” Myrtle pointed toward the open bar. The rude men from their table stood laughing as they flaunted their rocks glasses, swirling the contents in a circular manner.

  “And I see Martin and Sloan are here,” Sadie said, nodding toward the detectives they’d spoken with in the coffee area that morning.

  Myrtle nodded. “I saw that. Seems they’re observing more than talking to people this time.”

  “Looking for any behavior that seems out of the ordinary, I bet.” Sadie glanced around the room, noting that it appeared to be an appetizer hour like any other. She’d been to many while traveling. After all, why miss free food? Not to mention the intrigue of people-watching.

  Sadie took another bite and then made a quick trip to the serving table, as much to mingle and overhear conversations as to nab another mini-taquito. A few guests mingled nearby the almost-empty spread, including a blond woman who was—or wasn’t—the same one Sadie had seen that afternoon at Bertie’s Beach Baubles. Minus the baseball cap, sunglasses, and casual beachwear, it was difficult to tell. Dressed in an elegant peach-colored linen shift, soft multipastel-colored shawl, and strappy heels, she might well be someone else. But one thing was certain: if it was the same person, her expression was far from the cheerful one she’d sported at the boardwalk boutique.

  Returning to join Myrtle, Sadie shared those thoughts. “There’s something about that blond woman over there that’s bothering me.”

  “Which one? There must be forty blond women in this room.” Myrtle followed Sadie’s gaze. “The one talking to the man facing away from us?”

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “I think I saw her in that accessory shop on the boardwalk today. The one I picked this up at.” She fingered the flip-flop necklace absentmindedly, noting the woman did not have the same one on, which would have confirmed her suspicions.

  “I recognize her,” Myrtle said.

  “You do?” Sadie looked at Myrtle. “You know her?”

  Myrtle shook her head immediately. “No, I don’t know her. I don’t know anyone here. Except you now,” she added. “But I’m pretty sure that’s the woman who hurried out of the room after the announcement that GQ would not be able to make the dinner.”

  Sadie thought that over. She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to other guests at the front table, but she did remember a woman was one of several who stood and left right away, all appearing to be upset. “You might be right. Maybe I know a way we can find out who it is…”

  “Your detective beau in New Orleans?” Myrtle smiled.

  “I wouldn’t call him a beau.” Sadie blushed in spite of attempts not to. “I’d say a good friend with beau potential. Anyway, I have an easier source. Just a minute.” She slipped her cell phone out of her tote bag, patting Coco on the head in the process just to give the Yorkie some overdue attention. Between the food and the crowd, the petite canine was spending a lot of time inside the tote.

  Moving across the room, Sadie made a point of taking a few photos of paintings, statues, and other miscellaneous items. Slowly and discreetly nearing the blond woman, she angled the phone in the opposite direction, and then clicked the reverse view so it would take a picture over her shoulder. Checking the results, she smiled and returned to Myrtle.

  “Okay,” Myrtle said. “Now what?”

  “We send it to my best source for showbiz information.” Sadie opened a text message to Amber and sent the photo through, followed with a question about identifying the blond woman. “Now we just wait for an answer. She may be with customers, so it might be a little while.”

  It only took a few seconds to get a response.

  How did you get that picture of Kira Fairchild?

  Sadie and Myrtle exchanged glances “Who?” they each mouthed to the other. Sadie typed the question back to Amber.

  She’s part of GQ’s entourage, an assistant with makeup and wardrobe. Some people think she’s his girlfriend, but he always denies it. There was a pause, and then Amber sent a correction. Denied it. He always denied it.

  What do you think? Sadie typed and hit Send. She could almost see Amber shrug her shoulders through the phone.

  Who knows? It doesn’t matter now, does it? Another pause followed. Customer entering.

  Sadie said a quick goodbye and let Amber get back to business.

  “Find anything out?” Myrtle asked after Sadie slid the phone back into the tote bag.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Sadie said. “Apparently, there were rumors about GQ having a girlfriend, specifically the blonde over there.”

  Myrtle’s mouth dropped open. “Really? Wasn’t he voted Sexiest Eligible Bachelor in that celebrity magazine last year?”


  Sadie shrugged her shoulders. “You’d have to ask Amber. I don’t follow that stuff.”

  “Right,” Myrtle said. “Well, I’m sure he was. I remember seeing it on the magazine cover.”

  “That means…” Sadie tapped one finger against her lips, thinking. “It would be good business to keep a girlfriend a secret. What lovestruck fan wants to feel she doesn’t have a chance?”

  Myrtle nodded. “That’s a good point.”

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “It’s a very good point indeed.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sadie returned to her room after bidding Myrtle goodbye. She opened the door to the private patio and let Coco run around while she leaned back in a lounge chair. A cool breeze had started up, bringing a sense of levity, as if the light wind would allow normal breathing to resume. After the emotions and stress of the past twenty-four hours, it was a welcome feeling, whether imagined or not.

  On a whim, Sadie had ordered room service without realizing she was full from indulging in appetizers. She’d signed for the club sandwich and side order of fruit when it arrived, tipped the bellman, and slid the food in the suite’s refrigerator for later. The chilled glass of chardonnay that accompanied the meal was welcome, however. It now graced the small patio table beside her, a seashell-design, mosaic-tiled coaster below it.

  The early evening scene on the beach stood out in sharp contrast to the hectic activity the previous night. The weather channel had predicted rain on approach, but none had arrived yet. In spite of gray clouds gathering above, the activity along the shore seemed calm and casual. Yellow police tape had been removed, and beachgoers strolled along the sand just as if a dead body hadn’t been there less than twenty-four hours before. In all likelihood, some weren’t even aware of the tragic event. A young couple walked along the water’s edge, hand in hand. A small boy and a man tossed a beach ball back and forth. Two surfers paddled outward from the shore, preparing to catch a few waves before either rain or the setting sun prevented it.

  Sadie closed her eyes for a moment, pulling a sweater around her shoulders and enjoying the wisps of cool air blowing across her face. This was a particular balance she’d grown to love over the years, wrapping herself in something warm and comforting while allowing a cooler contrast of temperature on her face.

  Tempted to doze, her eyes fluttered open when something hard and cold hit her foot. Glancing down, she noted a seashell, covered with sand. It rested above her big toe and extended sideways two toes over. A smiling, panting Coco stood over it, looking up at Sadie proudly.

  “Very nice, Coco,” Sadie said as she picked up the seashell and set it next to her drink’s coaster, too comfortable to stand and add it to a pile of similar shells that Coco had hunted down the day before. “I see you’ve been off on one of your scavenger hunts.” This was a favorite pastime for the petite canine. A basket of collected treasures graced the floor of Sadie’s San Francisco penthouse, some of them gathered on trips, others simply pulled at random from around the apartment. Anytime Sadie couldn’t find something—at least something small enough to fit between the Yorkie’s teeth—the basket was the first place she looked. Bracelets, phone messages, socks, even kitchen towels were at risk of joining the collection. It never seemed to bother Coco when Sadie retrieved items; she simply trotted off to round up replacements.

  A double buzz from Sadie’s cell phone alerted her to an incoming text. She scooped Coco up into her lap to keep her from running off again and then picked up the phone.

  Ms. Kramer.

  Detective Broussard.

  Relaxing yet?

  Sadie had to think before responding. Yes, she was relaxing, although she was certain that wasn’t Broussard’s underlying question. He’d be concerned that she’d become further embroiled in the mystery at hand instead of enjoying the seaside vacation she was supposed to be on.

  Yes, Sadie replied. It was a truthful statement, after all. How else would one interpret sitting on a beachside patio lounge chair, sipping wine and feeling the evening breeze? She was certainly relaxing. At least her body was. Her mind still replayed scenes and conversations she’d witnessed during the past twenty-four hours. Enjoying some quiet time on the patio’s lounge chair, she added.

  Evening plans?

  Sadie smiled, choosing to think he might be feeling a tinge of jealousy though she suspected it was merely light conversation.

  Pajamas, wine, and reading, Sadie answered. I picked up a new mystery. I can’t resist bookracks at airports.

  She laughed out loud after sending the text and rereading it on the screen. Both statements were true individually as well as together. She had picked up a paperback in the airport gift shop. But she’d obviously also picked up a new mystery unrelated to the book.

  Sadie took a sip of wine and looked out at the beach. The man and young boy were departing, the older of the two holding the boy’s hand while cradling the beach ball under his other arm. The couple had moved on, no longer in sight. The surfers continued to battle the waves. She suspected they would be the last to come in, likely after raindrops started to fall.

  “And you, Detective Broussard,” Sadie typed. “Exciting evening plans?” Two could play at this game, naturally.

  Yes, if you consider filling out reports on three related burglaries to be exciting.

  Sadie selected confetti emojis from the phone options and clicked Send. I’m truly jealous, she added. At least you’re getting to solve crimes. She winced after sending the last line, knowing what would soon follow on his end.

  Speaking of which…

  Yep, just as she expected. She stretched back in the lounge chair and waited for the rest.

  How is that situation going there at the hotel?

  Sadie sighed, wishing she had exciting inside information to relay. But the truth was, she didn’t. Whatever developments there were could already be found on national broadcasts or on the internet. Nothing much to report, she typed. Only what’s already on the news.

  Feeling the wind shift in that unique pre-thunderstorm way, Sadie stood and picked up her wineglass. With her cell phone in one hand and the chardonnay in the other, she used her elbow to maneuver the handle of the sliding glass door and, calling Coco to follow, moved inside.

  I’ve made a new friend, Sadie typed after getting settled in an overstuffed armchair. Myrtle, she added. Not that it was necessary to clarify that it wasn’t a male friend. She and the New Orleans detective hadn’t specifically defined their relationship as more than friendship. However, he had sent her roses the previous Valentine’s Day. It seemed only fair to not leave the announcement open to interpretation.

  Aha. Is she as crazy as you?

  Sadie rolled this last text around in her mind, contemplating the possible insinuations. Deciding to take it as a compliment, she smiled and responded. Maybe not quite, but not everyone is perfect. She mentally patted herself on the back for her snarky reply and took a sip of wine to celebrate her cleverness. In fact, it was quite possible that Myrtle was as eccentric as Sadie herself, in which case they made a perfect pair. It was a double bonus to her vacation, finding both a mystery and a kindred spirit.

  “Coco, no,” Sadie said aloud, realizing she’d made a mistake leaving the sliding glass door partially open. It was her own fault that a slimy piece of kelp now adorned one of her bare feet. If she had wanted an ankle bracelet, she could have picked one up at Bertie’s Beach Baubles. A dry one, even. And Coco herself was a bit on the drippy side, an indication that rain had now joined the wind outside.

  BRB. Coco is collecting souvenirs that I need to return to their rightful place. Sadie set the phone down and grasped the kelp between one thumb and forefinger. She walked back to the patio and flung it out on the sand as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead. She retreated inside, making sure the door to the patio was closed securely on her way back in.

  A miniature criminal? Broussard had texted while she was disposing of the undesirable item.


  Just beach debris, Sadie typed. I don’t think that counts.

  In that case, no charges will be filed.

  Sadie laughed out loud. She appreciated an officer of the law with a good sense of humor. I’d better get the little rascal settled down for the night.

  Yes. Before the situation escalates and she becomes a jewel thief.

  Again, Sadie chuckled. Enjoy your reports!

  Ending the text exchange, Sadie set her phone down, dried Coco off with a towel, and escorted the Yorkie to her travel palace. Bending down to latch the door to the luxury kennel, she whispered, “We just won’t tell him about the time you retrieved that diamond bracelet at a banquet, okay?”

  With a yip of gratitude, Coco curled up on her velvet cushion and yawned. Taking this as a brilliant suggestion, Sadie changed into her pink flamingo pajamas, fluffed the pillows on the hotel bed, and followed suit. Three pages into the mystery novel she’d picked up at the airport, she fell asleep to the sound of rain beating against the sliding glass doors.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sadie sat up and stretched her arms above her head. Sunlight flowed in from the patio, a welcome sight after listening to the storm throughout the night. Pelting rain and howling wind had interrupted Sadie’s slumber more than once, though she never found it difficult to go back to sleep.

  “Looks like the weather has cleared up,” Sadie said as she leaned down and unlatched the travel palace’s door. In an almost similar motion to that of Sadie, Coco lifted her head from the velvet beneath her and stretched all four legs. Sufficiently invigorated, she trotted to the patio door and waited to be let out for her morning constitutional.

  Sadie opened the sliding glass door enough to let Coco escape to the patio garden, and then she headed to the room’s coffee maker. These newfangled cup contraptions! Sadie thought to herself as she pondered the unfamiliar machine. Personally, she was fond of the old-style model she had at home. Other than replacing the glass pot a couple of times over the years, it had always been steadfast in service.

 

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