Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries)

by Camilla Chafer

  "Were you supposed to be at the hotel tonight?" Lily asked.

  "Nuh-uh. Just for the day shift."

  "Can anyone prove you were there?"

  "What's with the cop questions?"

  "Think of them as alibi questions," said Lily pointedly, though she took it as a given that I hadn't hurt anyone. She'd known me too long for that.

  I thought about it. I hadn't needed to use my key card to move about, and there weren't any security cameras. I'd had the foresight to wipe my fingerprints off the doors and I took a guess that the murderer had already wiped his... or hers. "No," I said, "I don't think so."

  "And your car?"

  "In the lot. I'm going to claim car trouble, so I left it there."

  "So, maybe you got the bus home?"

  "No ticket. Do the buses have cameras?"

  "I don't know, I drive everywhere. You jogged? Maybe you're getting fit."

  "Maybe."

  "How do we explain my car being here, if anyone asks?"

  "I dropped my gloves earlier while... jogging. We came to look for them?" It was sketchy, and I was pretty sure our story’s believability would depend on who asked, but it was a start.

  "And stopped to get a pizza on the way home," Lily suggested.

  My stomach grumbled, but I felt more sick than hungry. "Okay."

  "And before that, we hung out at home, talking."

  "What were we talking about?"

  "Boys."

  "Typical."

  "And completely believable."

  "I wish it was believable that we were talking about the rise of women in congress or world affairs."

  "Next week," said Lily. "This is feminism, baby. We can talk about whatever we want. I choose to talk about boys tonight."

  "What are we saying about boys?"

  "Let's go with the safe options. Jord..."

  "I thought you were over him?"

  Lily gulped. "I'm having a weak moment?"

  I looked at her suspiciously. She looked shifty. Again, I wondered what he said to her. "And me?"

  "You're talking about your smokin' boyfriend and your boss who wants to have sex with you."

  "I'm not saying that to any cop!"

  "Fine. I'll be discreet."

  I sighed. "Go by Monty's Slices," I told her. "I changed my mind about the hospital. I'm buying seeing as you’re alibi-ing."

  "Awesome." Then, with a sideways glance full of concern. "You sure?"

  "Yes." I wasn't sure about much, but I did know Monty's Slices had a camera mounted above their counter. I thought it couldn't hurt to be caught on it with company far away from the crime scene.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I slunk into work on the following day with my hair artfully arranged to cover the bump, which had subsided slightly during a night of ice-packing. I was feverishly waiting for Maddox to turn up, demanding to know where I’d been, and wasn't surprised to find the hotel teeming with police. And, even worse perhaps, the Montgomery Gazette. I could see their star reporter, Shayne Winter, conferring with a man whom I guessed was the photographer. She saw me, and her eyes flashed with recognition as she raced over, sticking the little recording device in my face.

  "Go away," I snapped.

  "Shayne Winter, Montgomery Gazette. Did you know there was a murder here last night?"

  "No!" I lied, though my voice came out a bit too high, and not quite shocked enough.

  "Really? Are you the only employee who didn't know about it? What kind of assistant manager are you?"

  "I'm not the assistant manager, I'm a temp." I tried to sidestep Shayne, but she moved faster and blocked my way.

  "Rumor has it an employee was shot to death in one of the guest bedrooms. Was it a crime of passion? Was he servicing a guest? Was he a thief?"

  "I don't know!"

  "C'mon. You gotta give me something. This is my last story for the Gazette."

  That took me by surprise. "Really?"

  "Yeah! I'm going to be lead reporter for the LA Observer."

  Figured. Shayne Winter would fit perfectly in La-la Land—from her impeccably manicured nails to her swishy blonde hair. "Good luck with that." I sidestepped again and she matched my move, blocking me.

  Her eyes narrowed, like she knew I was trying to evade her. "I want to end on something juicy."

  "Try a smoothie."

  "Give me something to work with here. There was a stabbing at the weirdo convention and now this murder. Will The Montgomery ever recover from its infamous past?"

  "Absolutely," I said, and this time, I elbowed my way past, darting into the lobby before she could ask me any more asinine questions. Inside, I put on my best confused face, which wasn't hard, and strode over to the concierge desk. "What happened?" I asked.

  "There was a murder last night," Marta, the early shift concierge, told me.

  "Oh my God!"

  She nodded frantically. "That's what I said. The body's gone, but everyone is getting questioned."

  I had two thoughts about coming into work today, and now I was having a third. Last night, leaving the crime scene seemed like a brilliant idea. Now it seemed like a dumb one. Could I have made myself appear anymore suspicious? I took a moment to think I should have called Maddox, or Solomon, and told them everything, but the urge to hide in Lily’s apartment had overwhelmed every good sense. Instead, last night, after forcing down a slice of pizza, Lily had tucked me onto her sofa, insisting I didn't go anywhere so she could check on me in the night. She also told me Jord had actually asked her on a date, which was marginally more surprising than the murder. I fell asleep in a state of surprise and shock.

  "Mr. Killjoy asked for you to go to his office when you got in," Marta said.

  I thanked her and showed my pass to the police officer by the employees’ door. He let me through with a nod, and I hurried down the hall to Edward's office. Predictably, he was in a state.

  "The hotel will be shut down for sure," he said. "No one is going to stay at a hotel where the staff get murdered!"

  I shut the door. "I don't think it was random. I think the murder is connected to the saboteur." In fact, I was positive. I'd woken several times, Greg Conlan's lifeless body on my mind. On one occasion, Lily was looming over me, her fingers at the pulse on my neck, and I screamed blue murder. I'd barely gotten any sleep. I kept thinking that somehow, someone must have known that I was meeting Greg in that room, that he was going to tell me who the saboteur was, and the saboteur had somehow found out, killing him before he could tell me. The problem was, proving any of it was going to be difficult.

  I had a mystery person, a dead witness, and I'd left a crime scene. Maddox was going to be furious when he found out.

  "And you still don't know who it is?" pressed Edward.

  "No, but I'm very close. I can feel it."

  "Close isn't going to save the hotel. The board are already sending a team. Guests are transferring to other hotels. We could be closed as soon as the end of the week."

  "That's not going to happen," I said. I ramped up the idea forming in my mind into something more certain. "I've got a witness. Not to the murder, but to other stuff."

  I just hoped I was right.

  "You don't know who did it though."

  "I have a suspect," I said. "I just need a little more time."

  "You've got a day," said Killjoy. "I need this closed and fast. I need to show the board I can handle this, or I won't even be here to pay your bill."

  I made a mental note to tell Solomon to send a bill.

  "Okay. If you don't need me here today, there's somewhere I need to be." It came to me in the night, and I was pretty certain I knew where Marissa Widmore was. If I could find her, convince her to come home, I was certain I would have my witness and my saboteur’s name. Plus, now the saboteur had stepped up to murder, it was imperative I got to Marissa first.

  "Go," he said as I turned on my heel. "One more thing. A Detective Maddox was looking for you."

  I grim
aced. "Do you know where he is?"

  "No."

  "I'll be back later," I promised and hurried out, almost bumping into Louisa. She gasped, stepping sideways and collided with the wall.

  "Sorry!" I hurried past her. "I'm in a hurry!"

  "Uh, no problem. Terrible news, huh? I expect Edward will be fired soon."

  “He’s very worried,” I said, and Louisa gave a sad shake of her head before turning into her office, where a police officer waited.

  I legged it down the corridor, saw the officers stationed at the rear doors, and made a snap decision to exit via the front, forcing me to walk around the building to my car. The fewer cop questions, the better right now. I crossed my fingers that I wouldn't see Maddox and pushed the door open to the lobby as I raced across it.

  "Not so fast!" A man slid over my way and I crashed into him, putting my hands up to his chest to steady myself. My fingers splayed across a very familiar pair of hard pecs, and an even more familiar striped blue tie. Just my luck. Maddox. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" He dropped his voice and made no move to put any space between us, despite the fact I was pretty much groping him. "What are you even doing here? Don’t you get Sunday off?"

  "No. It’s a seven-day-a-week gig. I have errands to run. For Mr. Killjoy."

  "I was worried about you." Maddox took my elbow and steered me to an unoccupied corner near the doors. "Someone was killed here last night and your car was still in the lot. You haven't answered any of my calls. I was this close to putting out a BOLO on you." He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together, leaving a hair’s breadth of space between them.

  "I'm fine," I said and shrugged, which made me wince as my head gave a half-hearted throb.

  "Are you sure? You don't look fine. You look pale."

  "I'm fine, really. And a murder? Gosh. That's awful."

  "We got an anonymous tip last night. An employee was shot. He was dead when we got here." Maddox checked his notebook. "A Greg Conlan. Do you know him?"

  "Uh, sure, I guess. We spoke a couple times. I saw him yesterday."

  "Any idea what he was doing in the guest rooms?"

  "Covering for housekeeping, I think. The rotas were messed up again and housekeeping didn’t show up."

  "That would explain it." Maddox didn’t make a note, so I figured he already knew that and was testing me.

  "I'm sure Mr. Killjoy can confirm." I looked hopefully towards the doors.

  "Why was your car in the lot all night?"

  "The engine wouldn't start," I lied smoothly. "Lily picked me up."

  "Do you want me to get a friend to look at it? And where were you yesterday evening?"

  Sheesh. I was starting to feel like a suspect. "Thanks, but no. We got pizza and went home. We ate at Lily's, then I went to bed early. Well, I fell asleep on Lily’s sofa!" My voice peeled off in a squeak and I clamped my mouth shut.

  "Do you recall what time you left? Here, that is. Not Lily’s."

  "No. I stayed a little while after my shift ended to tie up some stuff."

  "I can probably check your time out on the computer system here." Maddox waited.

  "Sure." I gulped, bracing for more questions. I wasn't so good with the lying thing, especially not to Maddox, but I had the feeling that if Maddox knew I'd been anywhere near Greg Conlan's corpse, he'd place me in protective custody; and I had a witness to find. "About those errands..."

  Maddox lowered his voice. "Is there anything else you need to tell me? Could this have anything to do with the case you're working on?"

  "I don't know yet." Which wasn't a lie, because I really didn't know for certain, even though I strongly suspected it was.

  "If you're withholding information pertinent to the case..." Maddox started.

  I interrupted, "I don't think it was random. I think it's connected, but I don't know much more than that. Hey, you see that blonde woman sneaking up the stairs?"

  Maddox turned just as Shayne dashed past a uniform, taking the stairs two at a time. "What about her?"

  "She's a reporter with the Gazette. Shayne Winter."

  "Shit!" Maddox called one of the police officers and pointed to the stairs, telling him to get rid of the reporter He turned back to me, the same finger now directed at my chest. "And if you knew anything else, you would tell me?"

  "Absolutely," I lied, because much as I adored Maddox, the last thing I wanted was to be at the police station or handcuffed to him. Well, not in this mood anyway. I bit my lip, thinking better of it. Someone had been killed. I stepped closer to Maddox. "It wouldn't hurt to look at Sylvia," I told him. "She's at the top of my list of saboteurs." I explained my suspicions quickly about Sylvia’s motives and her ability to save the day every time, and Maddox nodded.

  "Keep your phone on. I'll check in with you later." Then Maddox strode away. No kiss, no kind words, no boyfriend-friendliness, just pure cop. I looked after him for one wistful moment, then I went outside and did something else that would probably piss him off. I called Solomon.

  "I need your help," I told him. "It's kind of a road trip."

  "Overnight?"

  "No!" I gasped and hung up as I hurried over to my car, deciding it was probably safer to go by myself. The VW was parked exactly where I left it. Reaching it, I sighed. The front driver's side tire was completely deflated. On closer inspection, it looked like someone had hammered a nail into it. Well, at least my car trouble excuse would hold up, even if it seemed like another nasty message aimed at me.

  I dialed Solomon again.

  "Changed your mind?" he asked.

  "No. Someone stuck a nail in my tire. Can you pick me up?"

  "Can't you change it?"

  "I have many talents. Tire-changing isn't one of them."

  Solomon was quiet, no doubt thinking of my many talents. "Where are you?" he asked at last.

  "The hotel. Rear lot. I'm the grumpy one in the black suit."

  "Skirt?"

  "Yes."

  "Heels?"

  "What's with you?"

  "I'll be there in ten." Solomon hung up, and exactly ten minutes later, his SUV turned into the lot. He pulled over next to me and I climbed in. "Lotta police out front," he said.

  "Nice shirt. One of the employees was killed last night." I explained about arranging to meet Greg and getting hit over the head, waking up to see the corpse's eyes across from mine, and how I'd jumped from the balcony.

  Solomon absorbed that quietly. The first thing he said was, "You should have called me."

  "I panicked."

  "Don't panic."

  "Easy for you to say. You weren't clubbed by a murderer and left either for dead or to be arrested."

  He paused, letting that sink in, his chest rising and falling slowly like he was working hard not to get mad. "I've been in worse situations," he said, eventually.

  I didn't doubt it.

  "I haven't. That was the worst."

  "Anyone else know about this?"

  "Just Lily," I admitted.

  "I hate to say this, but you've been made. You aren't going back there alone."

  I thought about that. The pissy message. The tire. Being left unconscious to be found by the cops. Yeah, I'd been made, alright. "You don't say," I replied, a touch too snippily, but Solomon let me off. Or didn't choose to answer. Same difference.

  On the plus side, no more office work for me. Except, I was starting to like the people. And the cookies Amanda kept leaving for me. Perhaps I could visit? I was sure they would be grateful, once Sylvia was put away. I could see Sylvia keen to step up and take over Edward’s job after saving the day so many times but when I tried to imagine Sylvia with a gun in her hand I couldn’t picture it.

  "I'm not putting you in the way of danger." Solomon reached around me; and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. I held very, very still, then he buckled me in and put the car in drive. "Where are we going?"

  "To get Marissa Widmore."

  He frowned, trying to place the nam
e. "The missing person case you wanted?"

  "Yes. She was also Edwards Killjoy's last assistant when she disappeared."

  "Interesting. He didn't mention that."

  "Probably didn't think it was important."

  "You think she's part of this?"

  "I think she got mixed up in something she couldn't handle. Now we need to get her. If I'm right, she's the only person who can tie the saboteur to the crimes. I’ve been looking for her. I did it in my own time."

  Solomon considered that before nodding. "You know where she is?"

  "I know where I would go if I were she and I was frightened."

  "Good enough for me. Put the address in the navigation." Solomon pressed a couple of buttons on the screen built into the dashboard and I entered the address I’d gotten from Elisabeth when I called her earlier, telling her I wanted to check out any places Marissa had been to that she might feel some connection to. I declined Elisabeth's offer to check it out herself, insisting it was better that I went and I’d call her again soon.

  My sister had given me the idea when she told me that if she were scared and alone, she wouldn't go to someplace where she would feel even more alone. Instead, she would go somewhere that felt familiar and safe.

  Marissa had vacationed at Elisabeth's family's lake house several times in recent years, and knew it would be empty. She’d told Edward how much she loved it there. She knew no one was due out there until the next summer; and it was isolated enough that she could keep track of any comings and goings. To everyone else, it would just look as if she’d vanished.

  The Sat Nav gave us a time of one hour, fifteen minutes. I hoped it wouldn't be a two-and-a-half hour wasted round trip. "And now you tell me everything."