• • •
“You were gone an awfully long time for someone who was just going to stop and say hi to that security guard,” Tessa said, with teasing accusation.
“Oh, but Tessa, he’s so, you know—”
“Good-looking?”
“And you know how I like tall men—”
“No, no, no,” said Tessa, grabbing my shoulders. She sat me down on the bed so she could look me in the eyes. “We will have none of that falling in love at first sight thing happening here. This weekend is complex enough without you mooning after some guy. Got it?” She was right. We’d only been in Portland for a day, and things were already more complicated than I’d ever imagined.
“Got it,” I replied. Tessa was bossy, but in a good way. She kept me out of trouble. Sometimes. “I had a good talk with Ryan. Apparently, I’m a murder suspect.”
“Wow, you were right all along. It is a murder,” Tessa said, shaking her head in astonishment.
“Good thing you were here with me. I have an alibi,” I said. “No one can accuse me of killing Saundra. You can vouch for me.”
Tessa didn’t say anything.
“Right?” I asked.
There was an awkward silence growing between us.
“Right?” I asked again.
“I wasn’t in our room last night,” Tessa blurted out.
“What? Yes, you were. I saw a big Tessa-sized lump in your bed.”
“That was all my clothes in a big heap. When I got to the room, I pulled everything out of the suitcase while looking for my beading supplies. It was such a big mess, I flung the bedspread over the top so you didn’t have to look at it.”
“If you weren’t in our room, then where were you?”
“Adriana called and said she’d show me how to make a bracelet with seed beads. I went to her room, we played with beads, drank some wine, watched some bad television, and I fell asleep. When I got back to the room in the morning, you were gone, so I just let it slide.”
“So that means neither of us has an alibi.”
“I was in Adriana’s room all night, so I have an alibi. But you were here all by yourself,” Tessa said.
“And it also means I just lied to Ryan about my alibi,” I said, “and when he finds out, he’ll think I’m—”
“Colpevole,” Tessa said, her Italian bubbling up as she realized she was the reason I had no alibi.
“English, Tessa—in English, please.”
“Guilty.”
THIRTEEN
WE SAT ON OUR BEDS facing each other.
“Someone killed Saundra. And it wasn’t me,” I said. “But we have to find out who did.”
“No, Jax. We don’t have to do anything. We’re going to go to bed. I’m exhausted. For once, you’re not going to be the one to solve all the problems in the world.”
“And you know, just because the police think it was a murder doesn’t mean it actually is a murder. The investigation could turn up nothing. What do you think?” I asked.
Tessa didn’t answer. She had fallen over onto her pillow, fast asleep.
It was my bedtime as well. I called the front desk and requested a seven o’clock wakeup call. I wanted time to get up and do some snooping around in the morning before the bead bazaar opened, and hoped that if I could at least clear my name as a possible killer, I’d have a much better time this weekend—to say the least. I didn’t want to be dragged off to jail on suspicion of murder.
If I could make it through the weekend, I could get home and go back to a normal life. A simple life with Gumdrop, and Stanley the basset hound bouncing back and forth between my house and Val’s. I wanted to be at home with Val next door bringing me food from time to time and reminding me that life was meant to be fun and lived to the fullest. But while I wanted to be back home, I couldn’t leave without knowing who had killed Saundra. There was a killer among us. Could that person kill again?
My comforter was downstairs on my sales table, so I dragged the spare blanket out of the closet and wrapped it around me. I stared at the dark ceiling and thought about what had happened today. What had the medical examiner seen that would compel the police to open a murder investigation? I fell asleep, still thinking of the buyers and sellers at the bead bazaar. Who could be so cold-hearted as to want to take another person’s life? Who could be more cold-hearted than Saundra herself?
I dreamt of darkness with flashes of glimmering lights. After each illumination, I searched in vain before being plunged back into an impenetrable black void. Nothing. I couldn’t see a thing. I was scrambling in the dark.
I woke to the sound of the phone ringing. Gah! Seven o’clock came far too quickly. I reached over and picked up the phone, expecting to hear the pre-recorded voice: “This is your seven o’clock wakeup call.” Instead, I heard nothing. “Hello? Hello?”
“Stop it. Or you’re next,” whispered a croaky voice.
“What? What?” I shouted into the receiver. “Who’s there?” I heard a click. Whoever it was had hung up the phone.
Tessa, from under her pillow, said, “Wrong number?”
“No. It was someone threatening me, telling me to stop it. I don’t know what that means. Stop what?”
“Who do you think it was? Someone at the front desk? Maybe they know you like to steal the little shampoos in the bathroom, and they’re calling to tell you to stop it?” Tessa said, sitting up in bed.
“Someone’s trying to frighten me,” I said. And they were doing a really good job at it.
“Seriously? Now you truly have lost your mind. It was probably just a crank call. Izzy and Ashley used to make calls like that, until they realized that caller ID showed their names to whomever they were calling. That took the thrill out of it.”
“Maybe it was Saundra’s murderer,” I said.
“You said it yourself—it might not even be a murder. No murder, no murderer.”
I looked at the red numbers glowing on the clock on the bedside stand. It was 5:30 in the morning and I was wide awake. There was absolutely no need for a wake-up call.
“I’m going back to bed,” said Tessa. She crashed onto her side once again, pulling the blankets over her head. Tufts of dark brown hair stuck out from under the covers. At least I knew she was in bed last night and not off who-knows-where.
I changed my top and slid on some shoes as quietly as I could, but that probably wasn’t necessary. I think a full brass band could have marched through our room, and Tessa would still be sound asleep. If I was going to be awake so early in the morning, I was going to have to find coffee immediately. Fortunately, there was a Starbucks across the street. Just like in Seattle, there are several Starbucks in every large American city, including Portland. I would be disgusted by this if it weren’t for the fact that I loved and needed coffee every day, and especially now. I bought two scones, a latte for myself, and an espresso for Tessa. Even if the espresso was cold by the time she woke up, I knew she’d drink it. Like me, she just can’t resist caffeinated beverages.
I entered the lobby and passed by the ballroom entrance. Ryan was sitting in a folding chair reading, where I had left him hours ago. As soon as he saw me, he stood up—such a gentleman. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Too many bad dreams.” I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to tell him about my scary phone call.
I sat down next to him. I was wearing my PJ bottoms, but I didn’t care. Take me or leave me—this is how I looked this morning. Along with my flannel pants, I was wearing a classy long-sleeved T-shirt from New Orleans. “Show Me the Beads” was written across my chest in purple sparkly letters. At least I was wearing a bra. In case Ryan had some beads to throw at me, I wouldn’t be revealing too much when I flashed him, as women do during Mardi Gras. I would never show someone my ta-tas for a strand of beads, but there were some bead ladies who would.
“Espresso? Scone?” Poor Tessa was going to have to fend for herself for breakfast. I hoped Ryan liked espres
so because there was no way he was getting my latte. Ryan took one of the brown paper bags with a scone in it in one hand, and the tiny espresso cup in the other. Actually, the cup wasn’t that small, it was that he had nice, big, manly hands.
He took a sip of the espresso and winced. “How much sugar did you put in this?” he asked.
“Three packets. Tessa likes her coffee extra sweet.”
“Maybe I’ll just eat one of the scones,” Ryan said, putting the cup back into the cardboard tray and removing the crumbling pastry from its bag.
We sat there quietly for a few minutes. I decided I’d tell him about the phone call.
“I got a scary call this morning. Someone threatening me,” I said.
“What did they say?”
“They told me to stop it—but I don’t know what it is.”
Detective Houston told me not to talk with anyone about Saundra, but Ryan was involved in the investigation, too. He wasn’t just anyone, and besides, it wasn’t like I was trying to corroborate my story with someone. I was just having a conversation with a hotel security guard. A hunky, sweet-natured security guard.
Ryan sat there chewing and thinking. It looked like he was puzzling through the timing of the events on the night Saundra died.
“I went on duty at midnight and was stationed here all night. I’m certain no one went in or out during my shift, so whoever killed that woman didn’t enter or exit during that time.”
“That’s for sure, you’re strict. You certainly didn’t let me in until exactly eight o’clock yesterday morning,” I said, teasing him.
“I completed my security check at the start of the shift, then sat and read, as usual,” Ryan said.
“Security check?” I asked.
“At the beginning and end of each shift, the security staff checks the exterior exits to confirm that they’re locked. And we spot-check the stairwells to ensure that we don’t have any undesirables hanging out in them.”
“Oh, yes, scary people who find dead bodies, or are killers, who—”
“I wasn’t joking when I asked about your alibi last night. You’re a suspect.”
“What? No. Not possible.”
“I overheard some of the vendors mention they saw you talking with Saundra earlier that day and that you two were having a disagreement. Since your booth was next to hers, the police must think you had the best opportunity to kill her without being seen,” Ryan said.
“We were fighting about our booths, but I wasn’t pissed off enough to kill her.” Now, I really was pissed off and wished Saundra wasn’t dead, so I could kill her. She had no right to go and die and make me look like a suspect. I hoped I wasn’t saying those words out loud.
“Did you see Saundra during the blackout?” Ryan asked.
“The ballroom was dark. I couldn’t see anything,” I said.
“You didn’t see Saundra after the bazaar shut down?”
“I don’t remember seeing her in the lobby. It was chaotic out there. Tessa and I didn’t stick around long,” I said.
“It’s a good thing you have an alibi for that night.”
“I have something to tell you about my alibi.”
FOURTEEN
“TESSA WASN’T WITH ME that night. She was in a friend’s room playing with beads. So I don’t actually have an alibi. Sorry, but I swear I wasn’t out creeping around killing people.” I started to tear up, realizing as I said it that having no one to vouch for me that night would mean even more police scrutiny.
“I don’t really think it’s you,” he said, handing me a napkin to wipe my tears. I sniffed a little and then pulled myself together. Hoping it wouldn’t leave a foamy milk mustache, I took a big gulp of latte.
“Think about the people you know. Any ideas about who would want to kill this woman?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t have a clue. No, actually I know lots of people who would want her dead, but no one who would actually kill her.” I knew I hadn’t killed her, but other than that, I really didn’t know where to start. “I met a detective last night. She wants to talk with me today. Do you know her? Tiffany—”
“Houston? I’ve met her. She’s new on the force, just moved up from Los Angeles. Apparently it’s her first time working in Homicide. She’s been assigned to this case.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes with her,” I said. “Well, I’m exhausted, and I’ve got a whole day ahead of me. I’ve got to get ready for it.”
Taking the coffees and my remaining scone with me, I lifted my tired body out of the chair. Ryan rose with me, and touching my hand, said, “Take care of yourself, okay?”
I nodded, looking up at his kind face and internally sighed. At least, I hope I hadn’t sighed out loud.
The elevator doors were just starting to close. I made a dash for it and slipped in. I nodded a greeting to the woman already in the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. When the doors opened, the other passenger turned right toward the even-numbered rooms, and I went left toward the odd-numbered rooms.
I reached for the key card in my pocket and realized I didn’t have it, only the credit card I’d used at the coffee shop.
“Tessa,” I whispered through the door, hoping not to wake up the entire hall. “Tessa!” No answer. I knocked a little bit. No answer. I pounded a little louder. “TESSA!” I was half-shouting now. I didn’t want to stand in the hall for hours while Tessa slept.
The door was ripped open, but instead of the irritated yet groggy Tessa I expected to see, Miles stared out at me.
“Miles?” I shrieked. “Miles! Why are you in my room?” He looked small and pale with just a sheer scarf wrapped around his waist. I tried not to look down, not wanting to see any more of Miles than was absolutely necessary.
“Uh, look, this isn’t your room, okay? It’s Saundra’s. I didn’t want to go back to my house where my roommates party all night. I thought I could sleep here instead, since she wasn’t using it anymore, why—why—let it go to waste?”
“Saundra’s room.” It was more a question than a statement. Where was I? I looked at the door number next to Miles’s head: 511. I had a sudden realization: My room was 611. I had gotten off on the wrong floor and was now interrupting whatever it was that Miles was doing. What was Miles doing? I peered over his shoulder and saw a mortified-looking Minnie sitting up in bed with only a sheet covering her, staring back at me like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Well, I, uh, guess I’ll be going. I’m sorry to have interrupted, I mean, sorry to have startled you. Really sorry—it was an honest mistake, all these hallways look alike.”
“Crap, Miles, haven’t you ever heard of a peephole? I swear—” Minnie hissed. I didn’t get to hear the rest of her rant, as the door clicked shut. I slunk away. Three minutes later I was at room 611, banging on the door and yelling at Tessa to let me in.
When she finally opened the door, I nearly knocked her in the forehead.
“You are never going to guess what’s happening exactly one floor below us.”
FIFTEEN
“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?” I said, as I broke my scone in half and passed it to Tessa.
“It means you should really keep track of what floor you’re on before you start pounding on doors?”
“Yes, that, but it also means we know which room is Saundra’s. And her room may hold a clue to who wanted her dead, because it certainly wasn’t me. It means I’m going to have to get back into Saundra’s room later and investigate,” I said.
“I don’t want you to do that,” Tessa cautioned. “If you get caught, you’ll be moved to the top of the list of suspects. You’ll look like you’re trying to cover your tracks.”
“According to Ryan, I’m already at the top of the suspect list,” I said. “As long as I don’t get caught, any clues I find can help us figure out who the killer really is.”
“Jax, think about it. I’m certain the police would have swept everything up and out of Saundra’s room by now. You’re
not going to find anything there.”
“But Miles had a fancy scarf wrapped around his waist when he answered the door. It looked like one of Saundra’s.”
“The police didn’t clear out her room?”
“It didn’t look like it.”
“Sounds like shoddy police work to me,” Tessa said, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. “But, not our problem, right?”
It may have not been Tessa’s problem, but it certainly was mine.
• • •
My first customer of the day was a woman with short brown hair, artfully spiked on top.
“Let me know if I can answer any questions,” I said to her. She was wearing a choker of seed beads woven together to create an intricate pattern. Seed beads are tiny, some nearly as small as a grain of sand. Bead designers stitch and weave those tiny beads together, mixing tones and shades to create elaborate works of wearable art. At the center of her necklace was a beautiful emerald-colored scarab cabochon, a flat oval with a beetle design. Small seed beads in all shades of green delicately encircled the cabochon. The piece was stunning.
“Nice beads. I love the ladybugs,” the woman said, picking up a handful to examine them. “These are adorable. I’ll take them.” She pulled every single one out of the tray. “I’ve been making necklaces like the one I’m wearing for friends. But I’ve had many requests for necklaces for little girls. I’m thinking a smaller version of the necklace with a little ladybug in the middle would be cute.”
“What a terrific idea. Let me get these wrapped up for you,” I said, taking the beads from her. I found some tissue and baggies among the supplies that Miles had given me.
“Once you make the necklaces, please send me a picture. I’d love to see them,” I said as we completed her purchase. “And I can do wholesale pricing if you decide you’d like to purchase a larger quantity.”
“Good job, Jax,” Tessa said when the spiky-haired customer had left. “You’ve not only broken even, I think you’re making a profit at this bazaar.”
A Bead in the Hand (Glass Bead Mystery Series Book 2) Page 8