After scoring a golf cart from Carlos the valet, I pointed the cart toward the villas. Working with the industry while not working "in the industry" could prove itself a sweet deal. If only Nash could understand the benefit. And how much I missed the perks. Like golf carts instead of walking and Escalades with a driver instead of dirt bikes. And muffin baskets.
Speaking of muffin baskets.
I slowed the golf cart and turned back. It took me a minute to find the delivery entrance for the hotel. The huge stone and timber building had a matching false wall hiding the employee area from the cart path that ran alongside the lake. A single drive led to the basement doors and unloading dock. Here were the dumpsters and other unsavory necessities for running a 5-star hotel. Including, as I figured, a patio table and chairs for the resort's employees.
Parking the cart, I waved at the circle sitting around the table, smoking and drinking bottled water and sodas. A man and a woman stood, but the other two remained seated, watching my approach.
"How can I help you?" asked the standing woman. She wore the resort's plaid vest and black slacks like the others. The standing man had a security badge and a tie.
"Just a quick question." I gave them my Teen Award red carpet smile. "The villas are usually cleaned around three, right? But when are the breakfast baskets picked up?"
"Do you need your cottage cleaned at a different time, Miss Albright? Or was there a problem with your basket?"
I shook my head. "No, everything is fine. I'm asking for Cambria. I mean Diana Prince in villa six. Yesterday evening her muffin basket hadn't been picked up. I guess she had a DND on her room yesterday, but did anyone do a turndown service? Do you know who specifically took care of her room yesterday? I'd like to talk to them."
The woman glanced at the man. He grabbed a walkie talkie off the table and ran for the back door, speaking into the walkie while he ran.
"I assure you, there's no issue with the service," I said. "And the muffins are delicious, by the way. Please compliment your baker."
The seated housekeepers glanced at one another. One lifted her cigarette, took a last drag and stubbed it out.
"Nice day." I smiled and bounced on the balls of my feet. "Sorry to interrupt your break."
"Would you like to go inside? Maybe the manager's office?" The woman shifted. "You'll be more comfortable."
"Oh, it's no problem." Then I understood. She and the other housekeepers would be more comfortable. "I'll go sit in my golf cart. You carry on."
Carry on? Where was I? Downton Abbey?
Trudging to my cart, I fought off the flush heating my skin that wasn't from the Georgia sun beating on my back. I wasn't following the upstairs/downstairs rules. And I knew the rules. In my past life, I had housekeepers, gardeners, drivers, and pool boys. Although the pool boy was actually a woman named Joyce. Vicki had often harangued me about spending time in the kitchen with the staff. She said they couldn't relax and be themselves if I hung around them. It made me mindful of respecting their space, although Miss Cristina said she didn't mind.
Of course, Vicki also said that Miss Cristina was making me fat, and I might gain an El Salvadorian accent. I didn't think the latter was true, although the former probably was. Miss Cristina made tamales to die for.
In the cart, I studied my list. To give an appearance of staying busy and not interfering with their smoke break, I created a 3.5 check box and wrote: "speak to staff." Checking the box, I felt accomplished. Then I flipped the paper over and began a shoe list for Theodore's party. I had narrowed the list down to a Chloé and a metallic Sergio Rossi with an ankle strap when I remembered a pair of Walter de Silva's I had yet to wear. I looked up and saw the security guard with the walkie.
"Miss Coxon, the manager, wants to see you." He gave an apologetic dip of his head. "Would you mind going back up to the entrance? She'll meet you there."
Craptastic. The same manager who got all uptight over my reporting the dead body. Which would make a person uptight. But I certainly didn't want her all up in my B over the housekeeping service.
"Sure," I said. "Let her know I'll be up in a jiffy. And could you ask her to call Giulio Belloni in villa three to let him know I'll be late? Thanks much."
Granted, the last bit was a power move. But if Miss Coxon had gotten wind of my perhaps illegal room registry list, I'd need some backup. It was time to play Vicki Albright.
Sometimes you had to play the bad guy to get what you really wanted.
Twelve
#DontMessWithTheB #PowerFail
Robin Coxon waited for me under the resort's timber and slate portico. I parked the golf cart, gave Carlos an "it's all cool" nod, and greeted Miss Coxon.
"Let's go to your office." I breezed through the doorway with Miss Coxon trailing behind me. "Giulio's waiting for me. I don't want to take up much of your time."
I halted, realizing I didn't know where her office was located. Big mistake. Miss Coxon took the lead, herding me down a short hall behind the reception desk. Vicki would have had the conversation in the foyer where Miss Coxon would have to worry about other guests.
Shizzles, I was bad at power play moves.
We strode into a sitting area, and she halted before a closed door to pull out her keys.
"Miss Coxon," I said, trying to regain my Vicki-inspired character. "I'm in a bit of a hurry. Do you have the information about Cambria's room? Who cleaned it and when?"
She pushed open her door. "Have a seat inside."
"That's all right." I inched my chin higher and folded my arms. "I'm sure you're busy as well. The information?"
"The warrant?"
"Excuse me?”
"I assume you have a warrant. I don't need to give you information about my staff otherwise. And, oh wait, you're not police anyway."
"I'm not here to give your staff any trouble. I'm assisting Leonard Shackleton by helping Cambria." The dropped names hit the floor like a platinum balloon.
"I see." Robin's voice grew frostier. "Then you can relay the issue to me. What do you need to know about the service for villa six?"
"I'd rather talk to the housekeeper myself." I wanted a first-hand account of what she'd seen in the rooms. In case she'd spotted any film equipment. Or blood. Or bodies, for that matter. "The room wasn't serviced at the regular time. I want to know if it was cleaned that night. And if there were any items the housekeeper might have noticed."
"Are the items missing? Are you accusing my housekeeper of theft?"
"No." I dropped my arms. "I don't think so."
"You don't think so? Just why do you need this information? Because you are trying to prove you saw something in Cambria's villa when you were just snooping? And trespassing?"
"I wasn't trespassing. And I was hired to snoop, by the way." That sounded different in my head. "Cambria knew I was coming. Or at least, Leonard Shackleton had sent me to bring her to dinner."
"Wasn't she at the Cove and not dead in her room, like you told the police?" Robin's jaw tightened. "What are you trying to pull?"
"Pull?" Vicki wasn't working. I switched to Julia Pinkerton, a more natural role for me. Placing my hands on my hips, I leaned forward. I could almost feel my old cheer skirt brushing the tops of my thighs. "Listen, Miss Coxon. I don't 'pull.' But I can push. As in push the police to investigate this further. I work for a private investigation office, and we have connections. I know what I saw. Obviously, it wasn't Cambria, but something's going on in that villa. Something that could cause the resort a lot of problems."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I'm not the threat. The threat comes from the secret in villa six." Whoops, that sounded like an episode of Kung Fu Kate. I had switched from teen detective snark to kid spy cornball. "Anyway, I can help you by you helping me. Let's Jerry Maguire this problem."
She studied me for a minute. Turned to the phone on her desk. Punched in a number and turned back to face me. "Security, can you escort Maizie Albright from my office? I need he
r off the premises."
"What?" I tripped out of my forward lean and straightened. "You can't escort me. Giulio's waiting for me."
"And make sure she doesn't return. She'll be trespassing otherwise." Robin hung up and folded her arms.
"You can't kick me off the resort. I have to come to the resort to watch Cambria. It's my job."
"Sorry." She didn't sound very sorry.
"But I'm Maizie Albright."
A knock sounded on the outer door. I glanced over my shoulder. The security guy from the service area, who didn't look so apologetic now. His neck also looked thicker. Which was probably an optical illusion caused by my nerves.
"Sucks to be you," she said and closed the door.
Yes. Yes, it did.
* * *
I had hit a new low. I'd never been kicked out of any place that wasn't a club. To be kicked out of a luxury resort, without mind-altering chemicals, was just unheard of. When a girl hits the skids, she needs comfort. To go to a place without judgment. Where selfish indulgence is overlooked. Where everyone knows your name.
I'm speaking, of course, of a salon. And my salon of choice was LA HAIR. However, Tiffany and Rhonda were not my stylists. Tiffany and Rhonda were my friends. But I also wanted my nails done. It's the comfort food of fashion.
"You're an idiot to get involved," said Tiffany, examining the coat of China Glaze's Boho Blues she'd just applied to my left hand.
"I think it was a good idea," said Rhonda. She spun herself in a salon chair, faced the mirror, and ran her fingers over her long, blonde waves. "Until it turned out bad. Like this weave."
"Which is what makes both of you an idiot." Tiffany shoved my hand into the UV lamp and glanced at Rhonda. "You are not Beyoncé. I told you those extensions would be a pain in the ass. Beyoncé has people to help her with the maintenance. Also, she has the body to go with the length."
"I have the body, girl." Rhonda spun back to face us. "I just don't have the height."
Tiffany snorted. "Excuse me, are we talking about the same Beyoncé?"
True friendship like this, I'd not before experienced. According to Rhonda and Tiffany, friends keep it real. Sometimes painfully so.
"We need the money, and this job is worth a lot of ka-ching and the possibility of an awesome rep for future gigs. How was I to know that Cam-Cam would house a body in her room?" I lowered my voice. The salon was empty, but one of the stylists, Ashley, washed towels in the stock room. "This is on the down-low, by the way."
"Naturally." Tiffany shrugged. "Who doesn't get doing a job for money?"
"I can do down-low like nobody's business," said Rhonda.
"Right." Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Anyway, who are we going to tell?"
"You work in a salon."
Rhonda crossed her fingers and kissed them. "Do you think she's really dead? The lookalike?"
"I really thought so. But where did she go and why? The most obvious: dumping her in the lake. Someone staying or working at the resort. Stashed her somewhere and transported her later that night. Everyone has golf carts."
"Good idea," said Tiffany. "They can drag the lake."
"Nash said it's costly for the police. They can't justify it unless they know someone is really missing."
"Don't forget about what happened to Selena," said Rhonda. "Who's Cambria's fan club president?"
"No idea unless it's her director, Ed Farmer," I said. "But I did ask the resort's desk clerk about stalkers. I don't know about theater fans, but it's possible one might have flown to Georgia to stalk Cambria and killed the double by mistake. Possible but a stretch. And it still doesn't explain why there was a double in her bedroom in the first place. With movie equipment. I'm hoping Cambria's boyfriend might know something about that part."
"Like he did a sex tape with Cambria's double by mistake?" said Tiffany. "If that's what he says, don't believe him. They'll use that excuse every time."
"You need to sneak into that resort is what you need to do," said Rhonda. "Orlando isn't going to help you. Find the housekeeper and talk to her."
"The housekeeper isn't going to talk to her," said Tiffany. "Unless you pay her."
"I don't have any money," I said. "I spent my weekly allowance on a donut and coffee."
"And your nails, right?" Tiffany raised a brow until I nodded. "Okay, if you can't pay her off, then you need to threaten her."
"I'm not going to threaten a housekeeper." I crossed my arms, then uncrossed them. "But you have a point about sneaking onto the resort. I'd love to get a look at Cambria's villa. She wouldn't let me in. And I've got no chance of seeing it with her now."
"You could do a disguise." Rhonda squealed, glanced at the closed stock room door, and placed her hands over her mouth to muffle her words. "I could color your hair and do your makeup. Get some contacts to cover those green eyes. Do a hunchback or something."
"I draw the line at my hair," I said. "But I'd do contacts and a wig. The hunchback is a bit overboard."
"How are you going to get into her room?" said Tiffany.
"Cam-Cam's doing a reading today. She'll keep her bag with the key nearby. If she were filming, I could probably get it from her trailer." I studied the stained ceiling tiles, thinking.
"Do a housekeeper's disguise.” Rhonda clapped her hands. "Pretend to clean Cambria's room."
"How am I supposed to get their uniform? They're really strict at the resort."
"I betcha that Giulio could get you a uniform," said Tiffany. "He's still staying there, isn't he?"
"How could Giulio get a uniform?"
"Oh, he can." Rhonda nodded vigorously. "He's got a rep. I've heard."
I slapped my palm against my forehead. "Are you serious?"
Tiffany smirked. "Don't worry, he's telling everyone he's mending his broken heart. That you broke."
"Using me as a…" I choked down my words. "That…"
"I don't think anyone believes the part about the broken heart," said Rhonda. "Don't feel bad. But use it to your advantage."
"Believe me, I will."
* * *
I returned to the office on Lucky, which didn't help my feelings of humiliation and inadequacy. Lamar and Nash were not around, and for once I was glad to be alone in the dingy office. I needed time to come up with a plan. A plan that included a way to break the news to Nash that I'd been kicked off the resort without him going ballistic. Also, a solution to that problem would be good.
Why did I think I could play Vicki? I guess there were some characters I just couldn't pull off and "power woman" was one of them. Girl power, yes. Power woman, no. Robin Coxon did a good power woman. Although kicking me off the resort seemed a teensy extreme. It wasn't like I was going to look for dead bodies in all the villas. Just Cambria's.
Speaking of bodies, I called Giulio.
"You're telling Black Pine women I broke your heart to get them to sleep with you? Have you no conscience?"
"Darling, you know I value the subconscious over the conscience. It guides my craft."
"Seriously. Black Pine is not like LA."
"You are right. The women here are wonderful. Not so jaded and bitter."
I bit down hard on my lip and counted to ten. "You're goading me. Listen, I need a favor, and you're going to do this to make up for using me as an unwilling wing man."
"With a private dick case? Then you have to reveal all the dirty little secrets. I am so bored here, Maizie." I could hear his pout. "I want to play cops with you. It's unfair that you have all the fun."
"It's not as much fun as you'd think." I hesitated. "I need to get into Cambria's villa without her knowing. You might be able to help."
"What can I do? Seduce Cambria for you?"
"How does that help? Do you think about anything other than sex?"
"God made me this way, what can I do?"
"I'm looking for evidence in her villa. I can't tell you why. But I'm hoping it's camera equipment. Like the professional stuff."
"I neve
r knew Cambria was a cinematographer. Is it a hobby?"
"Not sure. I thought Cambria was only interested in one side of the camera."
"Spoken like a true diva. And why the interest in Cambria's hobbies?"
It had not gone by my notice that as Giulio's interest piqued, his accent lulled. I needed to be careful. Giulio was a worse gossip than my new friend Theodore.
"You've probably heard Leonard Shackleton hired us to keep an eye on Cambria. She's an insurance risk. I'm just typing up loose threads."
"Darling, you're keeping secrets from your Giulio. Get her key and meet me at my villa. We'll snoop together."
"That's the thing. I'm not allowed on the resort anymore. I'm going to need your help getting to her villa. I was hoping you could get me a housekeeping uniform."
"That's from a Julia Pinkerton script."
"It worked great on Julia Pinkerton."
"It was a script, darling. I don't think they actually tested for accuracy."
"It'll work. Just see what you can do. But don't seduce any housekeepers. Just steal a uniform, then return it. So it's not really stealing."
"What size?"
"Any size."
"Really, darling? 'Any size?' What if you burst a seam? Wardrobe malfunctions happen."
I counted to ten using my best yoga breathing to maintain peace. "And be careful. The manager is not impressed with celebrity status."
"Maizie, please lighten up. Your instructions are tiresome."
"I have a lot of rules in my new job." I glanced at the clock on the wall. "I need to check in at the set. I'll call you later to see if you have the uniform."
"I accept my mission. You can reward me later."
By reward, I hope he meant donuts.
* * *
Upon arriving at the warehouse, I learned Cambria was resting in her trailer. I headed for the crafts room and began loading my plate, hoping to catch a quick meal before doing diva duty.
"We met last night."
I turned and found Ed Farmer behind me. "Yes, we did. Nice to see you again." I fast chewed a mouthful of trail mix and slipped my plate to the side where the mound of food wouldn't be so noticeable. "How did the reading go?"
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