by Lena Gregory
She entered the lobby and looked around. The concierge desk was empty. A lone clerk sat behind the counter, eyes cast downward, and didn’t even look up when Cass approached. She cleared her throat, and the young girl looked up sheepishly and closed the cover of her Kindle. “Sorry.” She smiled. “I just got to a good part. May I help you?”
“Umm . . .” Now that she was there, she couldn’t think of a thing to ask. She couldn’t very well ask what Marge was up to twice a week or why Jay was skulking around the parking lot. Hmm . . . “Uh . . .”
The girl frowned and eyed the Kindle longingly.
“I was just wondering if Marge Hawkins worked here?” Okay. A little lame, but it was all she had.
The girl’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you hear about Ms. Hawkins?”
“Well, yeah, but I . . . um—”
“Cass?”
Cass turned at the sound of her name, grateful for the reprieve. “Hi, Elaina.”
Elaina Stevens smiled warmly. “I haven’t seen you in a while. What are you doing here?”
Cass glanced over her shoulder at the clerk, but she’d already returned her attention to her novel, lower lip caught between her teeth, eyes wide. Cass almost called to her and asked what she was reading but shook off the urge and returned her attention to Elaina. “I was actually looking for some information.” She took Elaina’s arm and guided her across the sea-themed lobby to a small, discreet seating area. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. I just got off.” She sat on the couch beside Cass and propped her purse in her lap.
Cass had forgotten Elaina worked as a maid at the hotel. She also worked as a waitress at the diner, so Cass would have to be careful what she said to her. “I’m trying to find some information.”
“What kind of information?”
“Well, I’m trying to find out why Marge Hawkins was hanging around the hotel twice a week.”
Elaina stood abruptly, knocking her bag to the floor. Her gaze darted around the room. “Sorry. I can’t help you.” She bent to pick up the bag and gather its contents, and Cass leaned over to help.
She lowered her voice. “Can’t?”
Elaina whispered back frantically. “I’ll get in trouble if anyone hears me talking about her.”
Cass stood and handed Elaina a brush and compact. “Here you go. Sorry. Would you like a ride home? I’m headed that way anyway.” She wasn’t really, but she desperately wanted to get Elaina alone. It was obvious the young girl knew something.
“Umm . . . Sure. Thanks.”
Cass bent to retrieve a lipstick that had rolled beneath a corner of the couch and out the other side. She lifted her head at the sound of footsteps crossing the tile floor. Surprise, surprise. He just keeps turning up.
She studied Luke’s waistband when he turned toward the elevators, but his jacket covered any telltale sign of a weapon. What is he doing here? She paused, torn between the urge to follow him and the need to hear what Elaina had to say. If she let Elaina go now, she might not be so willing to talk next time she ran into her . . . hunted her down . . . whatever.
Dang! She turned back to Elaina, who was grinning from ear to ear. Elaina waggled her eyebrows, but Cass ignored her. “Ready?”
“Yup. Let’s go.”
They crossed the parking lot in silence, Elaina looking nervously over her shoulder. When they reached the car, she stopped and frowned. She pointed in the back window. “What the heck is that thing? A horse?”
Cass laughed and unlocked the car. “Nope. He’s just a really big dog.”
Beast stood on the backseat, wagging his tail furiously, rocking the whole car.
“Lay down, boy.” She flipped on the air-conditioning. Even though the fall air was cool, the interior of the car was sweltering, thanks to Beast’s panting.
Elaina climbed in beside her and patted Beast’s head. “You sure are a handsome fella, aren’t you?”
Beast yipped.
“Are you going home?” Cass spotted Luke’s parked Jeep as she pulled out of the lot.
“Nah. You can drop me at the diner.”
That would actually work better for Cass since the diner wasn’t far from the theater. Maybe she’d be on time for once, sparing her a lecture from Bee. “So, what’s the deal with Ms. Hawkins?”
Elaina blew out a breath. “She already got me in trouble once. And I didn’t even do anything.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, she can’t get you in trouble now.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Elaina shrugged. “Anyway, Ms. Hawkins had a twice-weekly, standing reservation. She always took a different room, checked in around noon, stayed for a few hours, and left.”
“That’s weird.”
“Not really. I cleaned her room a number of times. It was always a mess and always the same. Wineglasses, wet towels tossed carelessly around the room, bed rumpled.”
“What would she be doing in bed in the middle of the afternoon?” Cass glanced toward Elaina.
Elaina lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, pursed her lips, and waited.
When the image came, it wasn’t a pretty picture. “Oh . . . eeeww . . .”
Elaina laughed. “Yeah, well, think how I felt.”
Cass struggled to rid herself of the mental image searing her brain. “So, how’d she get you in trouble?”
Elaina waved it off. “Oh, it was really no big deal. Once, when I was cleaning up, I found a pen in the bed. I picked it up and clipped it to my uniform pocket while I stripped the rest of the sheets. It wasn’t like I was going to keep it or anything.” She looked over at Cass. “Marge came back to the room while I was putting the sheets in the cart. She stopped to ask something, I assume if I saw the pen, but then she spotted it sticking out of my pocket.”
Elaina shook her head at the memory. “She grabbed it and accused me of stealing it. Then she went to Uncle Henry and told him I stole her pen.” She grinned at Cass. “That’s one upside of having an uncle who owns the hotel. He knew darn well I didn’t steal anything. He told her he’d look into it, but he just told me to be more careful next time.”
“What was the big deal? Was there something special about the pen?”
“Nope. Just a plain gold pen with black script on it. She was just being her usual, argumentative self.”
Cass’s mind raced. “Do you know who she was . . . meeting there?”
“Nope. I’m not even sure it was always the same person. Although, I can’t imagine more than one person would want to be Marge Hawkins’s . . . whatever.”
They both laughed. No. Cass couldn’t imagine it, either. But who on earth could it have been?
17
Cass ran into the theater only ten minutes late and considered it a small victory. Bee stalked toward her, his You’re late scowl firmly in place, as soon as she entered the auditorium.
“I know, I know.” Cass waved a hand dismissively. “Consider me properly reprimanded, and let’s get on with rehearsal.”
Bee’s expression turned to one of shocked indignation. He froze in his tracks, propped a hand on his hip, and stared at her. When she was almost face-to-face with him, he pointed a finger at her and opened his mouth.
She grabbed his finger, leaned close to his ear, and whispered, “I’ve got dirt that would make it worth having a sleepover in the haunted, old Madison Estate.”
He sucked in a breath. “Give me a hint.”
She released his finger, waggled her eyebrows, and headed toward the stage to line up the models.
Bee followed, grabbed her arms from behind, and leaned close. “You’ve gotta give me something. Anything. How about a little tidbit?”
Cass laughed and turned to face him. “Okay. Clue number one. It involves two people and a room at the Bay Side Hotel.”
He pressed a hand to hi
s chest. “Pretty please, tell me Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerously Southern is one of the two. And then I want all of the sordid details.”
“No. He’s definitely not one. Besides, that wouldn’t be gossip. That would be . . .” Cass sighed.
“Yeah.” Bee fanned himself.
“Sorry to ruin your fantasy, but guess again.”
Bee frowned. “Is either of the people dead?”
Cass smacked his arm playfully. “No. No one’s dead. Oh. Well. Wait. One of them actually is dead now. Or both may be, I guess. But, at the time the gossip-worthy action was happening, all parties were alive and kicking . . . among other things.” She grinned, turned away from him, and hoisted herself onto the front of the stage.
They’d run through only half of the show when the board members started to trickle in.
Stephanie came up behind Cass and put a hand on her shoulder. “Bee doesn’t want to talk to them.”
Cass wasn’t surprised. Even though they joked he wasn’t allowed to talk to the board, truth was, authority figures intimidated him. Bee was actually quite timid. “I didn’t figure he would.”
“So, what do you want to do? Do you want to do it, or do you want to flip a coin?”
“Me?” Cass huffed out a breath. “Why don’t you do it? You’re the business manager. Do my titles have manager in them? Model? Nope. Stage designer? Nope. Neither one.”
“Come on, Cass.” Stephanie nudged her. “Let’s be honest. My background is in business. You have experience in dance and theater. You’re a lot more knowledgeable about what’s involved in producing a show than I am.”
Cass shrugged. Just because Stephanie was right didn’t mean Cass had to like it. “Ugh . . . Fine. I’ll do it. But you’re taking me for ice cream later.”
Stephanie grinned and shot Bee a thumbs-up.
Traitors.
By nine thirty almost all of the board members were seated in the auditorium, watching the show. All except one. Chief Langdon was noticeably absent.
The models finished walking through their routines, in shorts and T-shirts rather than the outfits they’d be wearing, to a smattering of applause and nods of approval. They packed up their things and emptied the room quickly. Maybe they’d felt the pressure as well.
Cass dillydallied as long as she could. The air buzzed with tension. She glanced at the clock. Chief Langdon was obviously not coming. Okay. Time to start the meeting. She heaved in a deep breath. I can do this.
She approached the small group. Conversation dwindled to silence as they greeted her with cold suspicion. With Marge and Chief Langdon missing, the group consisted of only six members. Luke would vote to let them do the show. Marti Symms stared openly at Cass, her expression seeming to hold curiosity more than anything else. Maybe Luke had already won her over.
That left Jana Sorenson, Debby Watson, Katie Bell, and Kyle Benedict for her to convince.
Cass smiled. Sweat trickled down her back in the air-conditioned auditorium. “Hi.”
Luke greeted her with a smile, the women simply nodded and looked at one another, and Kyle glared at her with open hostility.
O-kay. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice.”
More nodding. This was getting downright frustrating. Cass bristled. Who did these people think they were?
“We called you here to discuss the notice we received asking us to change the date of the fashion show.” Asking was being kind, since there was no question involved, but diplomacy was probably a better tactic than confrontation.
Debby’s cheeks reddened, and she lowered her gaze. Her hands twisted together nervously in her lap.
“I’d like to ask you to consider rescheduling the play instead of the fashion show.”
Jana twirled a lock of her hair, elbow resting on the back of her seat, seemingly disinterested in Cass’s argument.
What is going on here? Cass frowned.
Kyle, a nervous little man with horn-rimmed glasses, looked to the others before he finally cleared his throat. “Why can’t you just choose a different weekend? What’s the big deal?”
Anger rushed through her. She tamped it down. “What’s the big deal? Seriously?” Okay, so much for diplomacy. She scanned each of their faces, trying to hold eye contact with every one of them. “Do any of you have any idea what’s involved in putting on a show of this magnitude?”
They all shook their heads.
What were these people doing on the board of directors of the theater if they had no clue how a production worked? “First of all, Bee has worked really hard to coordinate a time when buyers are available. That’s not easy. If he changes the date, he may not get the buyers to attend. Not only will he lose money then, but the entire town will. A lot of the people attending this year’s show are coming because of who else will be there.”
Cass’s cheeks heated as she got angrier.
“Not for nothing, but this show brings a lot of revenue in to the local businesses on Long Island as well as Bay Island. The restaurants, the hotel, the tourist shops. Not to mention, the theater. Bee’s show has sold out. The play will be lucky to seat a hundred people.” Besides, Marge isn’t even here to run the play. Has anyone even taken her place? She bit the inside of her cheek, figuring it might not be the best time to ask.
Katie held her hand timidly in the air. “It’s not that we’re trying to be difficult, it’s just we want to honor Marge’s wishes. She really wanted to do a fall-themed play this year. She was tired of holiday themes.”
Yeah, right.
“We’d hate to go against her after . . . well . . . what happened.” Katie blushed crimson.
Cass weaved her hands into her hair and squeezed, desperate to relieve her building stress headache. Her patience had worn thin. She thought of Bee and stopped the angry words from coming out. Unfortunately, they churned in her gut. Bee and Stephanie were going to owe her a whole lot more than ice cream for taking this on. “Look, Ms. Bell. This isn’t about Marge Hawkins, or me. I’m telling all of you right now, I had nothing to do with Marge’s death. Don’t punish Bee for something that doesn’t even involve him. Please.”
That was it. She was done. Her stomach flip-flopped. Whatever was going to happen would happen. “Thank you all. I appreciate you taking the time to come down here. If you have any questions, Bee or Stephanie will be happy to answer them.” She mentally stuck her tongue out at both of them as she turned around, walked back to the stage, picked up her bag, and walked out.
Tears pricked the back of her eyelids. She refused to shed them until she was far away from the theater.
“Hey. Wait up.”
Ugh . . . This is the last thing I need right now. She paused but didn’t turn around.
Bee ran to catch up with her. He walked around to face her and threw his arms around her in a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you.” He released her, stepped back, and pressed his fingers to his mouth. “You did a wonderful job. Thank you.”
Cass looked down and shook her head. “Do you think they’ll change their minds?”
“Oh, honey, I have no idea. But if they don’t, we’ll reschedule the show to later in the season. It’s not the end of the world. My career maybe, but not the world.”
Cass smiled. “Thanks, Bee. You’re a good friend, despite the fact you threw me to the wolves in there.”
He smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Anytime, dear, anytime.”
Stephanie caught up. “You did great, Cass. I was eavesdropping while I closed down the auditorium, and it seems as if some of the members are going to give in. I think Debby will, and maybe Katie. Luke Morgan is a definite, and he’s still in the lobby trying to convince the others.”
“Come on. I know just what you need.” Bee hooked his arm through Cass’s and started walking toward the car.
“Don’t say donu
ts, unless you want to stop by the shop and let out the dresses I’m wearing for the fashion show when we’re done.”
Bee laughed. “No way am I altering those dresses, honey. You can have carrot sticks.” He grinned. “I’ll have donuts.”
“Cass. Wait up.”
Cass looked back over her shoulder. Luke strolled across the parking lot toward her.
“Could you give me a minute, guys? Please.”
“You bet, sweetie. We’ll wait in the car.”
She handed Bee the keys. If they were all piling in her car, they were obviously going out. She hoped there’d be something to celebrate.
“Hey.” Luke’s dark eyes didn’t give anything away.
“Hey.” Cass held her breath and waited to see what the decision would be. Had they even decided yet?
“You’re very convincing, you know.”
Hope flared.
Luke tucked her hair behind her ear. The gesture, which was so comforting and friendly when Bee did it, brought a completely different response when Luke did it. Cass shivered.
“Kyle Benedict left here looking like he was about to stroke out, and he voted against allowing the show to go on, even gave a heated argument about why the board shouldn’t allow Marge’s murderer to have her way. In the end, the women and I outvoted him and Chief Langdon’s absentee ballot. They’re going to let you keep the date.”
She sucked in a breath. “Are you kidding me?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, thank you.”
Luke wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “You’re welcome.” The words were a mere whisper against her ear.
Oh boy.
She pulled back and looked into his eyes.
He grinned. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s passionate.”
Her stomach clenched, but the memory of the gun-shaped bulge in his waistband had her pulling away. “Thank you again.”
“No problem. Now, how about going to dinner with me tomorrow?”
She briefly considered putting her arms back around him and frisking him but thought better of the idea. She smiled instead. “What time?”