by Mary Maxwell
After the elevator arrived and the couple stepped inside, I removed the cap from the lipstick and quickly went to work. My hand was steady as I wrote a message of my own on the gilt-framed mirror:
I will withdraw from Achiever Award. My letter of decline will be taped to hotel spa entrance at 9PM.
A.E.
“Do you really think this is going to work?”
“It’s my best shot,” I said, putting the lipstick in my purse. “When I got the first note by the pool on Thursday, I was confused. The second and third notes on the mirror in my room and down in the spa made me frightened. But now, after thinking about how ridiculous this is, I’m mad. And I’m also determined to stay the course.”
“That’s the spirit!” Emma cheered and pumped her fist in the air. “Stay strong! Fight evil! Show the skunk behind the threats that truth and justice will—”
“Are you about done?” I interrupted.
She blushed. “I was just trying to make you smile, Abs.”
“Mission accomplished!” I flashed a wide grin and took her arm. “Now, let’s go downstairs to the banquet hall. The reception should be starting just about now.”
As we turned toward the elevator, another door opened in the opposite direction. I looked back and saw Bree leaving our suite.
“Hey!” she called. “Wait for me!”
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Emma replied. “If we don’t get down there soon, all of the canapés will be gone.”
Bree headed toward us at a fast clip. Her hair bounced and her legs scissored beneath her sleek black pencil skirt. As she approached the console table, she noticed the lipstick lettering on the mirror and stopped to read the message. Even though Emma and I were about twenty feet away, I noticed the expression on her face suddenly shift. Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowed and her hands clamped into tight fists.
“Did you guys see this?” She pointed at the mirror before resuming her walk down the corridor.
“Yep,” I said. “I wrote it.”
Bree put one hand over her mouth. “Did you really?” Her voice crackled with jittery surprise. “Are you seriously going to withdraw from the Achiever contest?”
“I think it’s the right thing to do,” I said, punching the elevator button. “I mean, whoever is sending the threats seems determined to scare me off. And I don’t want to risk anything really bad happening.”
The elevator arrived and the doors opened with a muted ping.
“C’mon!” I said cheerfully, stepping into the elevator. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could really use a glass of chardonnay about now!”
While we descended toward the lobby, I kept one eye on Bree. She seemed anxious and there was a little twitch in her eye, a barely perceptible tremor that I’d seen a few times before when she was caught telling a white lie. When the elevator doors opened again, we were swept into a throng of laughing, chattering hotel guests and Splendora conference attendees. It was a busy Saturday night, and the air fizzed with excitement and anticipation. Some people were headed for the casino to try their luck at the tables. Others were moving toward the main entrance so they could walk down the Strip for an evening of fun in one of the other hotels.
“Our banquet room is this way,” Emma said, tightening her grip on my wrist. “If we get separated, it’s in the Venice Ballroom, okay?”
A pair of burly men wearing sharkskin suits and too much cologne bumped into us.
“Watch where you’re going,” one of them rasped.
Emma squeezed my arm. “And they say chivalry is dead?” she whispered.
“Not all men are slobs,” I said. “Just a few here and there.”
Bree latched onto my other arm with one hand. “Wait up! I don’t want to get lost in this freak show!”
“Hold on tight, sister,” Emma said over her shoulder. “I’m going to make a beeline for the staircase that goes down to the ballrooms.”
It took ten minutes to wade through the crowded lobby, but we eventually made our way out of the swarm. Bree kept her hand tightly looped around my wrist as we followed Emma down the steps. The lower level corridor wasn’t as crowded as the lobby, so we were able to stroll easily toward the large Splendora banner at the far end.
“I’m just going to duck in here,” Bree said as we approached a ladies’ room. “I’ll catch up.”
“If you don’t see us in the hallway,” Emma offered, “we’ll save you a seat inside.”
With a tentative smile, Bree walked toward the passageway leading to the restroom. As I followed Emma toward the Splendora reception table, I noticed Amanda Woodworth in the distance. She was talking to a small group of women that I recognized from the afternoon seminar.
“Let’s go around that little cluster,” I whispered to Emma. “I don’t want to see—”
But it was too late. Amanda had spotted us. She was waving her lacquered nails and moving in our direction.
“Hi, Abby!” she gushed. “I was hoping that I’d see you before the banquet.”
I replied with a tight smile, but didn’t say a word.
“How are you?” Emma asked. “Did you have some fun this afternoon out shopping or lounging by the pool?”
Amanda smirked. “My skin’s too delicate for the sun,” she said. “And I’m not one to splurge on overpriced tourist junk.”
Emma laughed. “Aren’t you smart?” she said in a clipped tone. “Like the Mother Teresa of Splendora.”
Amanda sighed loudly. “I wanted to wish you luck tonight,” she said, leaning close enough that I could smell her fragrance. It was the same perfume I’d detected in my changing room at the spa earlier when I found the last threatening message. “Being named Achiever of the Year is such a tremendous honor!”
I forced my lips into a modest smile. “Thank you so much, but I’m going to withdraw from the list of nominees.”
Her eyes flickered with delight. “Oh, you are?” Her voice was brittle and sharp. “Why would you do that?”
I shrugged off her question. “Well, it was good seeing you, Amanda. But Emma and I are parched. We’ve got to find the bar so we can get something to drink.”
As Amanda’s mouth fell open and her eyes bulged, I grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her away.
“That was classic!” she giggled. “I’d love to know what she’s going to tell her coven of witches now.”
I looked back as Amanda rejoined her group of friends. They all leaned in to hear what she had to say about our brief interaction. When one of the women glanced in our direction, I gave her a little wave.
“Who cares what they’re saying? In an hour or so, this will all be over and Amanda Woodworth will be mortified that everyone knows she’s been playing dirty to try and get Achiever of the Year.”
Chapter 23
During the next hour, as we sipped wine, nibbled on canapés and talked to a few of the other conference attendees, I kept checking my watch. When Bree finally rejoined us, she seemed unusually animated. She didn’t say much, but I could see a twinkle in her eye every time she looked at me.
“What are you so giggly about?” I asked at one point.
“Oh, nothing,” she said, tossing her hair. “I’m just in a good mood because it’s going to be such a fun night!”
At eight o’clock, the doors to the Venice Ballroom opened and the crowd slowly trickled in to find their assigned tables.
“We’re up there on the left,” Emma announced. “I think Gillian Smart’s at our table, Abby.”
“Who’s that?” asked Bree.
“Gillian handles public relations for Splendora,” I answered. “We met her earlier when she and Felicia Gold stopped by our suite.”
“Why did they come by?” Bree asked suspiciously. “And where was I?”
Before I could answer, we reached our table and a chorus of excited voices greeted our arrival. The Saturday night banquet was always the highlight of the three-day conference, so everyone was in a festive mood. I noticed Bree scowlin
g at me as we took our seats with the other women. When Gillian Smart arrived, she nodded at me across the table before turning to the woman sitting in the next chair.
“So, Abby?” Bree said. “What’s the deal?”
I smiled at her. “Deal?”
“Yeah, why are you being so secretive?”
“I’m not.”
She smirked. “Oh, really? You just told me that the CEO of the company came to our room, but you won’t tell me why. I’d call that being secretive.”
I laughed and put my hand on hers. “It’s nothing of the sort,” I said. “Felicia and Gillian were following up about something related to Achiever of the Year. It was kind of like a courtesy visit, you know? It was no big deal, sweetie.”
When I added the term of endearment, Bree’s face went blank. Then she quickly recovered and murmured a few words of apology. “I’m just not feeling like myself,” she said. “I’m sorry if I seem jumpy.”
“You’re fine,” I said. “We’ve all been going a mile a minute this weekend. It’s no wonder that the pace is catching up with you.”
The lights in the room dimmed to a soft glow as an announcement informed the group that the banquet would start in five minutes. I nudged Emma gently under the table and she leaned toward me.
“Are you ready?” she whispered. “Only an hour left before the fireworks!”
“I’m more than ready,” I said. “I can’t wait to see the look on you-know-who’s face when she sees what I’ve got in store for her.”
As vibrant dance music began pouring from the speakers, late arrivals hurried to find their seats. The room was packed to capacity and an army of uniformed servers stood along one side waiting to deliver the first course. Lush floral decorations were placed in the center of each table, and I took a moment to appreciate the delicate blend of white roses punctuated by vibrant lavender blossoms.
“What are you smirking about?” Emma asked softly.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Spill it,” she whispered. “You’ve got that look on your face again.”
“What look?”
“That sneaky, cagey look,” she said. “Like when you and Robert got engaged, and you didn’t tell anyone until the next day when we met for lunch.”
I giggled. “Yeah, okay,” I said. “It’s the centerpiece.”
She looked at the abundant display of fresh flowers. “Ah, the irony,” she said. “Lyrical, luscious lavender can have so many uses and meanings.”
“Absolutely,” I murmured as a spotlight suddenly swept across the stage and Felicia Gold stepped to the podium. “I think it may be my new favorite color from now on.”
Chapter 24
As the hotel banquet staff cleared our dinner dishes and began serving dessert and coffee, I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly nine o’clock.
“Will you all please excuse me?” I told the other women at the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Bree raised one eyebrow. “Where are you off to?” she asked warily. “They’re going to announce Achiever of the Year in a few minutes.”
I grinned at her. “Just a quick dash to the little girls’ room,” I answered. “Want to join me?”
She shook her head and reached for her wine. “Tempting,” she said in an icy tone. “But I’ll pass.”
I caught Emma’s eye as I pushed back from the table. “Somebody’s cranky,” I said under my breath.
“I noticed that,” she whispered, covering her mouth with one hand. “What’s up with her anyway?”
I shrugged. “Maybe she’s feeling guilty about spending so much on clothes she doesn’t need.”
After leaving the table, I moved quickly through the crowded ballroom. Between the tapestry of voices raised in conversation and the clinking of dishes, it was a relief when I pushed through the doors into the less hectic corridor. A few other conference attendees were heading for the restroom or one of the sumptuous sofas tucked into alcoves that lined the passageway. I noticed a couple of other women from St. Louis.
“Good luck, Abby,” one of them shouted. “We voted for you for Achiever!”
I gave them a quick wave as I moved swiftly toward the staircase leading to the lobby.
Walking through the expansive space toward the wing housing the spa and fitness center, I saw Trevor Cole talking to the woman behind the concierge desk. He nodded and smiled before heading across the lobby to join me.
“How’re you doing, Ms. Edison?” he asked as we met near the middle of the entrance hall.
“Fantastic!” I exclaimed. “I’m looking forward to finding out once and for all who’s behind the anonymous threats.”
“I can imagine,” he said. “I’ve got two guards in position. And one of my most trusted associates is monitoring everything from the CCTV cameras near the spa and fitness center.”
“And you found the envelope that I left for you at the front desk?”
Cole smiled. “I did indeed,” he said. “I taped it to the spa entrance myself about fifteen minutes ago.”
“I hope nobody pulls it down before we can carry out my plan,” I said, suddenly concerned about a detail that I hadn’t anticipated.
“Don’t worry about that,” Cole assured me. “The spa closed at seven. And since it’s located at the end of the corridor, anyone walking in that direction would be very obvious to the guards monitoring that level.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I breathed a sigh of relief as we reached the elevator for the spa. “I just hope this works.”
“I think you’ve got a foolproof plan,” Cole said as the elevator arrived. “It’s as simple as cheese in a mousetrap, but it sounds like whoever is taunting you isn’t exactly Einstein.”
My brow creased with concern. “What do you mean?”
Cole shrugged. “Just that they’re not really running a very slick con,” he explained. “From what you’ve already told me, they sent a woman to your house driving a car that could be easily traced. And the fact that you found the red hat and caftan in your friend’s room means that either the perpetrator is lazy and arrogant, assuming they’ve got all the bases covered, or it’s—”
“One of my best friends,” I blurted.
Cole nodded. “Exactly. So, in the grand scheme of things, they’re attempting to intimidate you into dropping out of the contest without really doing much to disguise their identity.”
“Well, it’s only a matter of time before they show their true colors.”
Once we reached the floor that housed the spa, I walked beside Trevor Cole down the empty hallway. During the day, the area was a lively swirl of hotel guests heading for a massage or a workout in the fitness center. But after hours, it was a ghost town. The overhead lights were even dimmed, creating a somber, eerie atmosphere that made me grateful I wasn’t alone.
“Okay, Ms. Edison,” Trevor said when we reached the spa entrance. “My two guys are just across the hallway, watching from inside the storage closet and the auxiliary power room.” He indicated two doors that were slightly ajar. If you didn’t know anyone was watching, you wouldn’t give them a second glance. “From their vantage points, they can see and hear everything in the vicinity of the spa.”
I thanked him for the explanation before checking to see that my envelope was taped to the glass doorway leading to the spa. I’d done my best to imitate the lettering from the original anonymous note I’d received by the pool the other day. A spotlight directly above the entrance clearly illuminated the packet, which was addressed TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN in lavender lipstick.
“I guess we’re all set then?” I asked.
Trevor Cole checked his phone for the time. “It’s about five minutes before nine. We should get into position in the alcove.”
He was pointing across the corridor at a loveseat positioned between two huge potted palms. The area was designed for guests who were waiting for their spa appointments, but it would be a perfect hiding place to watch for whoever arrived to
retrieve the envelope.
“After you,” Trevor said, gesturing with his hand. “We should get ready in case our mystery guest arrives early.”
Once we were huddled against the wall behind the leafy plants, I listened intently and took one short, shallow breath after another. Jittery butterflies jostled in my stomach and it seemed like time had begun to crawl as slowly as chilled molasses dripping from a spoon.
“Maybe they’re not coming,” I whispered.
“Be patient, Ms. Edison,” Cole replied in a hushed voice. “They’ll do this on their own timetable, not yours.”
Another five minutes passed excruciatingly slowly. I checked my watch every few seconds until it was nearly ten past nine. Just as I was getting ready to tell Trevor Cole that the idea wasn’t going to work, I heard the elevator doors open around the corner.
“I’ll bet this is them,” Cole said quietly.
I held my breath and strained to see if I could detect voices, but the only thing I heard was heels click-clacking on the tiled floor. I leaned back into the shadows, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. Who was it going to be—Bree? Amanda Woodworth? Delia Broome? Someone that I hadn’t even suspected yet?
As I concentrated on the sounds echoing through the shadows, I suddenly realized that there were two people walking down the empty corridor. They weren’t saying anything, but I could definitely hear two distinct sets of footsteps. I shifted forward slightly, just enough so I could get a glimpse of the area.
“There it is on the door,” a voice said harshly. “At least that idiot did the right thing.”
I could see a pair of legs now, slender and sleek, gliding toward us with a precise and measured cadence.
And then, as another person came into view, I felt my heart slam to a stop when I realized who was walking toward the spa.
It was Gillian Smart, Splendora’s director of public relations, along with Amanda Woodworth.
“Well, Abby Edison may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer after all,” Gillian said, reaching for the envelope taped to the spa entrance. “But at least she’s making it easier for you to be named Achiever of the Year. With her out of the top nominees, you’ll move up one spot. Then I’ll rig the final announcement before it goes out on the stage to Felicia.”