“The way they were found after all these years.” She was talking with her mouth full, then suddenly stopped chewing and looked at him. “Dead. Like, why didn't anybody look for them before? Funny, just like a movie, you know?”
“Yeah, except it's got cops in real life snooping around everywhere now.”
“Right, not funny in a funny way. You know what I mean.” She wiped her mouth and smoothed her hair on both sides of her afro puffs. All that remained was the iced tea and she finished that in short order. “Do you think they're gonna figure out what happened?”
“I don't know, but honestly, if you ask me ...”
“Yeah, Milo, I'm asking you.” She laughed and punched his arm. He barely felt it but pretended it was a knockout blow.
“Ha, well, I don't think they really want to find out.” He shrugged.
“Why do you say that?”
“I think they just want a reason to close down the place. There's people that don't like us being out here. They act like we're a bunch of bums or criminals or something.”
“That's pretty weird.”
“I don't know, it's just how I feel.” He gathered up everything into a disposable bag and tucked it into the carrier. “Nobody's gonna come to the campgrounds if they think a psycho is on the loose running around the woods killing people. Sooner or later, it’ll be out of business because no money’s coming in. Can't pay the county tax bill or road maintenance fees. That sort of thing. It could happen. That's what Brad said, anyway.”
“Well, we can't let that happen.”
“We?”
“Yes, we.”
“Jules, the only way to stop it is to find out the truth about what really happened and ...”
“Solve the case,” she chimed in.
“I guess.” He laughed at the ridiculous idea but deep down he had thought the same thing. Listening to Brad and Randall talk about the financial trouble Wyman’s was in and how something had to be done about it soon, made him want to help. But what could he do?
“And we could go on T.V. and tell everybody,” she continued.
“Okay, you've got a really big imagination. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“Actually, yeah, all the time.” She shrugged it off and slurped up the last drops of her drink.
“It's not a bad thing to have an imagination like yours, just saying. Just different.”
“Think about it, Milo.” She lowered her voice, “You know a lot about this place and the people. I bet we could do it. I bet we could figure it out before anybody else. You already said they don’t want to. So, what do we have to lose?”
It was a crazy idea, but it meant hanging out with Jules. He took her hand. “Sure, you’re right.”
Milo’s cellphone buzzed and he got a sinking feeling it wasn’t good. And, he was right. It was a text from Moe. “Are you too sick to make a delivery?” He didn’t respond right away. Either way he answered, Moe would know that he had been faking. He probably already knew and was just giving him a chance to step up and do the right thing.
“Maybe I should become a detective instead of a music teacher,” Jules said while chewing on the end of her straw. “Do you have to go to school for that? Probably, huh? Of course, my parents want me to be an accountant. I told them I hate math, but they don’t get it.”
“So, Latimore and Associates,” Milo asked, “what's that about?” The delivery could wait.
“It’s my father’s company. He’s an underwriter. I don't really know what he does exactly. There's a CPA and a bookkeeper, too. Then there's me.” She laughed. “Most of the clients are important people around Keeferton. Courtney, she’s the notary. She's always coming around for contract signings. Then there's certified checks being dropped off by Dependable Flyers and junk like that. It's a busy place. I help keep track of it, make appointments and answer phones. He pays me pretty good. I think probably a little more because I'm his daughter. But, it's enough that I can pay rent.”
She grasped his arm and shook it. “Did I tell you I'm moving in with Eb when she gets her new apartment instead of living on campus? Oh, you have to come and help on move-in day. It’s gonna be like a party but with just a few of us. She got a place in the new apartment building on Fort George Avenue. It’s only a few blocks from Birston. You can make it, right?”
“You want me to bring the food?” He wondered if this invitation would stick considering it was Ebony’s place and she had not mentioned anything about it to him.
“No, just hang out with us. But, if you did bring something to eat, that would be awesome too.” They laughed because they both knew that he never showed up at a party without food.
“Okay, I’ll be there. Tell Eb to text me the info.” He opened another bottle of iced tea, dropped in a straw and handed it to her.
“You know what?” She took a sip and squinted at him. “There was somebody in the office the other day and they mentioned something about Wyman's. I heard them talking in the parking lot.”
“Really? What about it?”
“About adding it to their portfolio and the market value. He said stuff like that. And, the ROI, I think.”
“What's that?”
“ROI? I don't know.” She shrugged her shoulders and made a face. “But it usually means they're about to buy something. I didn't know the campgrounds was for sale.”
“It's not,” Milo said trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt about the suggestion. No, he didn’t own the campgrounds personally, but it belonged to the only people that deserved to have it and would take care of it just like Josh did. “Who was saying that?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did they look like?”
“Sure, ask the legally blind girl.” She laughed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t feel bad, I’m just teasing. It was a man. That’s all I know. He was too far away for me to see him. But I would recognize his voice, for sure. Why?” She finished the iced tea and looked up.
“Just wondered.” Milo looked at the second text from Moe. “Hey, I've gotta make a delivery. You wanna come along?”
“Yeah, plus I'm still hungry. Could you pack something extra for me?”
“Yeah, I got you. C'mon.”
“I’VE HEARD ABOUT THIS place. It’s supposed to be like, really posh. Like apartments but for rich people.” Jules laughed and stared up at the towering Proctor Place building at City Centre. “I wonder what it’s like inside.”
Milo found a vacant spot near the drop-off zone in front of the building and parallel parked without bumping the curb. “You can come inside with me.”
“Are you sure?” Jules said and already had her hand on the door ready to go.
“Yeah, I want you to.”
Milo grabbed the insulated food carrier from the backseat and joined her at the sidewalk. Aaron, the doorman greeted Milo with a huge smile and waved them around the metal detector.
“Hey man, how’s it going? What’s in the box?”
“Top secret for your boss.” Milo joked and directed Jules through the lobby.
“We got you down for Simone’s Quinceanera, remember?” Aaron shouted. “Don’t disappoint us or my family will disown me.”
“You know I won’t.” Milo made a thumbs up. “Text me your menu and I’ll make sure you’re straight.”
“Make sure you spell her name right on the cake, too.”
“No problem.” Milo waved, then walked over and checked the name on the delivery slip against the building directory. He found the office and handed off the lunch order to the receptionist then motioned to Jules to meet him at the elevator.
“You know how to bake cakes, too?” Jules whispered and took his hand.
“I can make anything,” Milo grinned and pressed the button for the elevator.
They took the glass and brass lift and watched the people socializing on the lower floors and gallery below as it glided to the top level.
“This place is amazing. Like a
real castle kind of amazing, you know?” Jules pressed against the glass and looked around at the array of shops, offices and restaurants as the elevator passed upward. “I think I’m getting dizzy, Milo,” Jules said gripping the brass railing in the enclosure. “Where are we going?”
“I need to check something. Don’t look down,” Milo said. “You’ll be fine.”
The lift stopped at the penthouse level and they exited into a hallway with only four suites. Milo knocked gently on the first two doors but there was no response. Finally, someone answered when he tried the third one.
“How’d you get in here?” Ray said.
“I had a delivery and just wanted to drop off a flyer. Oh, and here’s a sample.” Milo reached in the insulated box and offered Ray a small container of spicy peanut and soba noodle salad. “Maybe if you get the munchies late at night, you can think of me. I deliver anytime, pretty much.”
“And, what’s this?”
“What’s what?”
“Your little friend.”
“Nobody. I mean, this is Jules, Juliana.”
“Fine. Is she expecting a tip, also?”
“Keep it.”
Ray accepted the container and flyer from Milo, looked them over once more, and closed the door.
Milo turned to Jules and whispered. “Did you recognize him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was that the voice you heard in the parking lot talking about buying Wyman's. Was it Ray Winston?”
“No, that wasn't him.”
“Are you sure, Jules?”
“Positive.”
They made their way back to the elevator and Jules closed her eyes on the way down. Milo took a brochure from the door of the model unit as a souvenir for Jules and nodded to Aaron on their way out. When they exited the lobby of the building to the courtyard, there was a crowd forming in the street.
“Perfect,” Milo groaned. “Somebody double-parked and wedged us in. Now we’re stuck in this traffic.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know but here comes the KMP traffic patrol. Maybe they’ll get things moving and we can get outta here.”
Instead of clearing away the crowd, the officers set up barricades to block vehicle traffic from entering the streets bordering Proctor Place and City Centre. Jules covered her ears at the loud squawk and squeak blasting into the air. Milo craned his neck to see what was going on as the audio guy ran more checks on the huge sound system. They pressed their way toward the stage.
Mayor Thompson was preparing to give a speech in front of the new QG Casino across the street. He walked along the platform lined with other men in suits and shook hands with each one, then turned and faced the lunch crowd.
"As promised, we're here today to open Phase Three of the City Centre Renaissance Development, the QG Casino." The man’s voice boomed over the speakers and reverberated against the towers. "As many of you know, this was not our original choice for the location. However, there is more to come. So, stay tuned." He smiled and held out his arms, waiting for the crowd to applaud. They did not.
Milo studied the man’s face and wondered what else he had in store for downtown Keeferton that was already becoming too congested. The new buildings were too tall and too close together. And most people who worked in that part of the city found it claustrophobic and the older residents were leaving. Milo didn’t like it either and was glad to stay away from City Centre as much as possible.
Mayor Thompson began introducing each member of the team that built the place and continued the high praise of the partnership. None of the people involved with the project lived in Keeferton. The casino paid no taxes to the city. The guests spent their money inside the casino, then took the shuttle back to the airport or train station and left town. How was this a success? The mayor’s hollow words echoed through the streets. Milo was ready to leave even if he had to drive on the sidewalk to do it.
“That's him.” Jules grabbed Milo by the arm and squeezed it tight. “That's the voice.”
Chapter Eleven
Traci
IT HAD BEEN ALMOST a year since the last time Traci had swiped her badge at the entrance of Dewey Station. The security guard had been replaced with a single camera mounted on the ceiling. In her heart, she wondered if the magnetic strip on her badge would still work. She was counting on the fact that Donna, the office manager was a classic technophobe, and would have probably avoided signing into the system that was required to purge her employee number from the access database for the S&K office. Traci held her breath and waited for the click and flashing green dot. It still worked! Once inside, she glanced around for any janitorial staff working after hours but the place was silent. Dim desk lamps in the administrative alcove and the low hum of the HVAC system overhead were all that greeted her.
A few of the ladies had attended her baby shower at Moe’s Tavern. There were the usual party games and food, plenty of pictures and laughs but she had not interacted with any of them since that day. She stopped for a moment and looked around at their vacant workspaces and realized how much she didn’t miss them at all.
“Time to get this over with,” she said and wiped her sweating palms against her sweater, then opened her briefcase and removed the packet. She hurried toward the corner office and bent down to slip it under the door but noticed a sliver of light coming from inside. She stood up, pressed against the door and peered inside.
“Do you play chess? Don't answer that, of course you don't.” Ray glanced over his shoulder toward her. “Come in.”.
“Well, it's very pretty.” Traci entered the room and joined him next to the mirrored console table near the window. The blinds were closed tight. The light from a brass desk lamp reflected off the glass and produced a peculiar glow in the room. She tucked the packet back in her briefcase and dropped it on the side chair. She couldn’t help staring at the beautiful sterling silver pieces, each set on a round crystal base and arranged on the onyx and mother-of-pearl squares. It looked like something that belonged in a museum. She couldn’t resist the urge to slide her finger along the gleaming silver rim of the board.
“Don't touch that. We're in the middle of a match. I'm waiting for a response from my opponent.”
“Who? There's nobody here.”
“He's in London.”
“Right, okay.” She glanced up at Ray. Still in his steel gray jacquard business suit, he loosened his tie. He looked exactly the same as he did the first time she laid eyes on him at Bent Willow. How could that be? Sure, no wife. And no kids, that she knew of anyway. That would definitely make a difference. She felt like a hundred years old and wondered if she looked like it. She needed to get home. “Well, good luck, I guess.”
“Do you know which piece is the most powerful?”
“This one.” She pointed but kept her fingers at a safe distance away from the board.
“Why did you pick that one?”
“I like horses.” She shrugged and waited for his answer.
“That’s called the Knight. The most important one is the Queen. This one.” He lifted the piece and held it in front of her, then returned it to its spot on the board. “Although under normal circumstances you always want to protect the Queen, I might be forced to use a strategy that sacrifices her so that I can win the match.” He circled the table. “Or, I could use your ‘horse’ to kill my opponent’s King and Queen, like so.” He lifted the Knight in the air and motioned to an empty space. He glanced at her and smiled, then put it back.
“So, the power couple is in trouble then.” She was tired but smiled and returned his glance. “Sounds dangerous.”
“Maybe,” he approached her. “But that’s what makes it fun.”
“When will you know which strategy to use?”
“It's the middle of the night for Alexander right now. So, I'll find out in about twelve hours.”
“That's a long time to wait to find out if you're the winner.” She looked up from the tabl
e.
“Oh, I've already won,” he said and lifted the packet from her briefcase.
Chapter Twelve
Milo
MILO FOLLOWED THE GPS down the mile-long driveway leading to the Evan's Pier Resort set along the deforested eastern side of Blue Horse Ridge in Xavier county. He pulled into the parking area at the rear, rubbed away the condensation on the inside of his windshield and looked around the perimeter of the building. The back of the structure was rather nondescript with a dark brown rustic façade that blended into the landscaped acreage and two glass doors near the loading dock. There were vehicles coming and going from the linen service, waste pickup, and restaurant wholesalers. Milo recognized some of the names from their suppliers list at Moe's Tavern.
He waited for the last of the trucks and vans to drive away before he parked the car and got out. The higher elevation caused a light mist in the air and a coolness that caught him by surprise. He buttoned his collar and scanned the length of the property. It was much larger than at first glance with multiple smaller structures built into the hillside that connected to the main building through arched bridges and rough-hewn log stairs.
Jules had overheard the men say they would be meeting that evening in the resort’s conference center. Milo wasn’t sure what they had in mind concerning Wyman’s, but there was only one way to find out. He grabbed his black chef's coat from the back seat and buttoned it down, pushed his cap down tight along his ears and tucked a dishcloth over his shoulder to hide his logo.
He passed by a few wait staff smoking along a designated break area off to the side. He waved casually at them and they nodded back. If anyone asked, he would simply say that he was filling in for someone and then try to blend into the flow. He was familiar enough with kitchen action to pull it off. Once he got past the door, he could slip away to the conference center. It would be a tricky maneuver, but he felt confident. If there was one thing he was accustomed to doing, it was making himself invisible. He opened the glass door on the right and stepped inside.
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