The kitchen was far bigger than anything he had seen before and operating at a level of managed chaos beyond his experiences. No one noticed him as he slipped through the lines looking for an easy exit to the main dining room. Suddenly, someone looked up and caught his eye. Milo picked up a mop from a bucket near a back wall and started frowning.
“Hurry up and get that cleaned up. The last thing we need is a lawsuit from one of the guests.” The guy barked from across the room and went back to work.
“Right. I’m on it.” Milo rushed along the wall to the exit and into the corridor. He glanced around to get his bearings and caught a glimpse of the cluster of uniformed staff handling all the front of house demands. The place was immense and glitzy. He wished that he had more time to take it all in. He resisted the temptation to reach in his pocket for his phone and take a few pictures to show Jules later.
The brass candelabra were suspended from the ceiling with clouds of floral arrangements showering down like wispy alien creatures. The fan-shaped windows gave the room a multi-dimensional effect with an incredible view of Mount Pierpoint and the Verdoon tributary that snaked through the woodlands below. It was spectacular. One day he would bring Jules to a place like this. It could happen.
He carried the mop to a restroom that he spotted along the far side wall and stashed it in one of the stalls, then walked out to the massive open reception area at the main entrance. Wow, this place is crazy. Luxury cars and limousines lined the circular driveway as if on a conveyer belt that reached all the way inside the first floor of the building. Valets awaited and rapidly attended to each visitors’ baggage, then drove the cars back outside to a designated enclosure. Milo found the bank of elevators and rushed into one just as the door closed. He was in luck; the directory was embossed in brass on the inside wall of the elevator and he pressed the button for the Chabon Conference Center Level.
His heart started racing as he exited the elevator and inched along the hallway. He noticed more people in the impeccably tailored guest services uniforms coming out of a set of double doors. Each time the door swung open, he could hear the voices of a group of men. He tested each door in the hallway as he walked toward the room. They were all locked, except that main one so it had to be the right place. He reached in his pocket and took out his cellphone and turned off the alerts. Then he started the memo recorder app, tucked it carefully into his waist band, and pulled his jacket down to cover it. The next time the door opened, Milo sneaked past the staffer and held his breath as he joined the room.
There was Mayor Thompson and several others that he recognized from the QG Casino grand opening. He glanced around, then got busy clearing the tables and loading carts along with the others. One guy noticed his coat was black instead of the house scarlet red with gold piping. Milo shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“That happened to me,” the guy whispered. “Took forever to get my size. Talk to Ron and he'll rush it through for you.”
“Got it, thanks.” Milo nodded and moved on to the next table. Eventually he made his way to the mayor's party. The man looked up, gave him an odd sideways smile, then tapped on the side of his glass. Milo found the wine bottle and started to pour. Someone snatched it from his hand and shooed him away. He stepped back and continued to clear away dishes, utensils, and soiled napkins, lingering as long as possible near their conversations.
Eventually, several of the men stood in unison and headed toward the balcony to smoke. The meeting was breaking up and each man went his own way down the stairs to the parking lot. Milo took that as a cue to leave and worked his way toward the back wall, slowing weaving between the tables and wait staff until he was in the hallway again. He stopped near the window at the end of the floor and looked outside. He saw his reflection in the glass and noticed how much sweat was dripping from his forehead down his cheeks to his collar.
He reached for his cellphone and said a quick prayer. Everything had recorded. He let out a deep sigh. Now, he just had to get out before someone noticed him again. He tucked away his phone and dashed into the emergency stairwell and rushed down the stairs. He reached a locked door across the stairs on the next level and couldn't continue down any further. He went through the door to the third floor guest area and looked for the elevators. Before he could turn, he heard someone call to him. It was the last voice he wanted to hear.
“Excuse me. We're done with our tray. Can you take our cart away, please?” It was Randall pushing a service cart out of a guest room.
“Oh no, God no.” Milo whispered and turned his back.
“Hey, I'm talking to you. Is there a problem?” Randall approached him. Milo turned and faced him. “Good God man, what in the world are you doing here?”
“I'm just picking up some part time work, that's all.”
“There's only one thing wrong with that answer.”
“What's that?”
“You're lying.”
“Okay, okay. If I tell you why I'm here, do you promise ...”
“No deals, Milo. Talk to me.”
“Alright, then. I wanted to find out what's been going on with the mayor and those guys trying to get their hands on the campgrounds. They just had a meeting in the conference center, and I listened in on some of the conversation.”
“Mayor Thompson’s here? Right now?”
“Yeah. You gotta promise not to tell ...”
“If Traci found out that you were up here spying on the mayor, she would throw her shoe at you. Then throw the other one at me for not telling her about it first. Believe me, I won’t say a word. I don't want to deal with any of that right now.”
“Do you want to know what I heard them say about Wyman’s and the bodies they found in the cabin and ...”
“I think I already know. The plan is they'll cause enough trouble for everybody that it’ll dry up revenue at Wyman's and force a sell off of the property and assets for next to nothing. By the time the investigation is done, and Traci is cleared, it would be too late. She'd lose everything and they could swoop in and take over. Unless they're stopped.”
“Right. That's exactly what they're up to.”
“Problem is, how can we prove it?”
“I got it all right here.” Milo pulled out his cellphone.
“Incoming,” Randall said and lowered his head.
“What?” Milo pivoted around and saw Traci walking toward them with a scowl on her face. “Uh oh,” Milo whispered.
“Yep, Hurricane Tracinda,” Randall said under his breath.
“What's going on?” Traci asked Milo and looked directly into his eyes, constraining herself from raising her voice.
“I was just ...”
“Do you work here now? You got a second job? How are you going to handle that and prep for college?” She fixed her eyes on Randall. “Did you know he was working here?”
“Traci ... angel, listen.”
She stepped back and folded her arms. “If you needed extra money, why didn't you come to me and ask for it? Or, Randall. Did you ask Randall? Did he ask you? Did you tell him 'no' and then didn't tell me?”
“Tracinda, calm down. Nothing like that happened.”
“I should take this back to the kitchen.” Milo said and reached for the cart. Randall grabbed his arm and gave him a side-eye.
“I've got to get to the Zen-Way Silent Tea Ceremony,” Traci said and narrowed her eyes at them. “It's starting right now. We'll talk about this later.” She stormed away muttering, “I don't understand why nobody tells me anything anymore.”
Milo dropped his head and whispered, “I think I know why.” He looked up at Randall who returned the glance with a chuckle.
“I just wanted a quiet little vacation.” Randall rubbed his forehead, looked at Milo and they both nodded. “I saw a car with Ray Winston's license plate in the parking lot when we arrived. Was he part of that meeting, too?”
“No, I don't think so. If he was in the crowd, I didn't see him.”
“I can’t help but believe
that guy’s behind all this somehow. Alright, well you better get going before one of the staff catches you. We'll talk back at Wyman's.”
“Okay, thanks for not saying anything just then.”
“No problem.” Randall watched as Milo pushed the service cart to the end of the hallway. “Hey, one sec.” He caught up with him. “Traci's got me eating some kind of tofutti balls, kibble made out of tree bark and all kind of squirrelly stuff while we're in this place. If you could hook me up with some of Moe's honey wings with the cajun rub and ...”
“A side of cole slaw? Sure, I can. You know we got these new takeout bowls with boiled shrimp, lobster, sausage, corn, potatoes ...”
“Don't play with my emotions, man. If you slip one of those in here, it would save my life.”
“I got you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Milo
WHAT’S GOING ON? YOU seem sad.” Jules said softly.
“No, it’s ...” Milo put away his phone and looked across the river to the opposite shore. “It’s almost time for the Austin Cove Bass Tournament. Josh used to enter every year. I’d carry the cooler and bait, and just hang out with everybody. Being here just makes me think about him, I guess. Feels weird that I’m not going to be part of that this year.”
“I’ll do it with you.”
“Do you like to fish?” He grinned. “I didn’t know you liked stuff like that. I’ve got my fishing pole in the trunk. All we need is some bait.” He lifted a rock and plucked up a worm before it could slither away.
“No. Ewww.”
“I’m just kidding. Thanks anyway.” He tossed the worm into the grass and they both laughed.
This hidden part near Austin Cove was his private sanctuary that he never expected to share with anyone. He was delighted that she had agreed to meet him there and especially happy that she was able to navigate the terrain without needing his assistance. Ebony had driven as far as the mile marker on the highway, and Jules followed the narrow path down the embankment to reach him.
He still had not worked up the courage to meet her parents. And he didn’t want to ask about her recent doctor’s visit. It was the last one before she was to start college. Soon she would be living two hundred and eleven miles away. He had decided not to mention that either, although it’s all he thought about lately. So, there he was at a loss for words again. Say something nice.
“You have on new fingernail polish. It’s pretty.”
“Really?” Jules smirked at him and turned away.
“Yeah, it is new. Right?”
“You don’t care about my fingernail polish, Milo.” She smiled at him. “Do you?”
“No, not really.” He blushed. “But it is pretty.”
“Well, thanks. It was nice of you to notice.” She touched his hand. “I think something else is bothering you, though. But, if you don’t wanna tell me, that’s okay.”
She brushed her hand across the blanket Milo had spread on a cushion of straw, smoothing down the creases. She reclined on her side and looked up at him. He moved closer.
“Well, I had a couple of phone calls this morning.” Milo leaned onto his elbow and lowered his voice. “Randall shared the recording I made at Evan’s Pier with the police chief.”
“Really? What happened? What did he say?”
“Everything came through loud and clear. But he told Randall that it’s not enough. Nothing he can do with it. Can’t be sure of this and that. It doesn’t prove anything. A waste of time, really.”
“Oh, that sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. And, then there’s this voicemail from Ms. McGee. She found some information about my family. It was a closed adoption, so I’ll probably never know who my mother and father were. Or, if they’re still alive."
“Oh, I’m sorry, Milo.”
“Well, she did find something that is going to blow my mind. That’s how she said it.” He made a sound like and explosion and laughed. “She just sent it to my email so when I get back to the restaurant, I can print it out.”
“What do you think it could be?”
“I’m not sure I want to look at any of it, to be honest. Moe always says, “What’s done is done and can’t be undone.” That’s because I used to burn the roux all the time.” He smiled and looked at Jules. “It’s true, though. You can’t change what happened in the past. It’s a lot to think about.”
“Well, I hope it’s good news even if it’s a lot to deal with. I’m helping Eb with late registration. All this stuff is killing me.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ve got a ton of college applications to fill out for next year.”
“Really, which ones?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “The ones Randall likes.”
“What about you? Which one do you like?”
“Me? None of them, if you ask me. But nobody asked me.” He stood up and helped Jules to her feet. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“So, why are you doing it?” She picked up the blanket, folded it in half and handed it to Milo. He rolled it into a log and tucked it under his arm.
“I don’t know, honestly. I guess I have to do something. It’s either that or trade school or intern at Simon and Kinsey.”
“Sounds like you don’t like any of those ideas, huh?”
“Not really.”
“Okay, so what if ...” She let go of his hand. “Let’s take all of those options and put them in a box, tie it closed with a string, seal it with duct tape, stuff it in a garbage bag ...”
Milo laughed. “Where are we going with the box?”
“We’re going all the way to the end of the river and we’re going to toss it in.” She smiled and pointed to the water and flung her hands forward. Then she turned and looked at Milo. “Just like that.”
“Then what?”
“Then you decide what’s next.” She took his hand again.
He looked at her hand in his, the glittery blue nail polish and garnet birthstone ring, and rubbed his thumb gently across her fingers. “I guess what’s next is ...”
“What?”
“I think you should be with me. I mean ...” He froze. He wasn’t prepared for the expression on her face. If she felt the same way, this would not be a surprise, at all. Didn’t she expect him to say that eventually? Maybe so, but just not today. His timing was off. Again.
“Is that Eb?” Jules asked and tilted her head at the sound of a car approaching on the highway above them. Milo didn’t answer her. He was imprisoned in the question still hanging in the air between them. The familiar car horn blasted and echoed down the hill. “She just started a new job and had to pick me up earlier today. I totally forgot.” She pulled her hand back.
“Jules come on! You’re gonna make me late!” Ebony shouted from the car and sounded the horn once more for good measure. Jules turned to walk away.
Milo grabbed her hand and held it tight. He didn’t care that she could feel the sweat on his palms. He braced himself. “Answer me first.”
She stepped toward him. “I think you should open Ms. McGee’s email and stop being afraid,” she said and pulled her hand away. She pressed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and stared at him.
He willed himself not to respond to her rebuke. His face flushed hot as he stood there waiting for the answer he needed, refusing to look at her because his eyes would betray the mask of confidence. He searched for a neutral place to settle his gaze. Brad’s voice rushed into his thoughts, “Put your head up. The ground ain’t got nothing for you but a grave.” Right. He had said what he said. It was what he meant and what he felt. He focused back on Jules still standing in front of him.
He lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders. “Make a decision and stand your ground. Is this the hill you wanna die on, son?” The words resounded in his soul. He didn’t want Jules to move away. She didn’t have to leave. She could take college courses online. And, if Birston didn’t offer that, then she could pick a different school. Yeah, she’s the one.
Jules turned and swatted her way through the tall wildflowers as she tried to find the path back up the hill. The sweshwe print of her dress blended into the coneflower, rudbeckia, columbine and jewelweed blooms. With each step, it was as if she was vanishing into the place he loved most. It’s over. His heart sank as his emotions exhaled hope and the loss enveloped his thoughts. He watched as she reached the base of the embankment where her friend had parked. She stopped, cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted up the hill, “Go on without me, Eb.” She turned back to him, and he met her halfway. She traced his face with her fingertips once more and kissed him until his dreams came back to life.
Chapter Fourteen
Traci
RANDALL REACHED ACROSS the stack of bills on the kitchen table and gently touched Traci’s hand. She looked up at him and grabbed hold of it, then pressed it against her cheek. She had run out of ideas and they were slowly running out of money. She had hoped that she had at least another year to get everything stabilized. Even with Brad’s help managing the site, she was falling desperately behind on payments for the operating expenses and they were short on time to prepare for the next vacation season. She stood up, walked over to the window and looked out to the alley where a small memorial cross marked the spot where Josh had died.
“You're right. I’ve got to sell Wyman's,” she exhaled the words that she had desperately choked back for so long and lowered her head. She dreaded the decision and the conversation she was now forced to have with him. “Too bad it's not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Both partners would have to approve of a sale. So, it's a little complicated.”
“Partner? What partner?”
“Ray.”
“Winston?”
“Yes.” She looked into his eyes recognizing the anguish of betrayal that just flooded into their relationship. Of course, she knew that she would have to tell him about the partnership at some point. But it was supposed to be after the outstanding debts had been cleared and she could sell for a profit. After all the work they had put into Wyman’s, she felt like getting Ray to back it financially was the safest bet. But she was wrong. Selling the campgrounds would be disloyal to Josh’s memory but now the look on Randall’s face was so terribly painful. She wondered if they could ever recover from this point.
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