by CeeCee James
No wonder Caleb thought I was an idiot. I should know who comes and goes at the hotel.
Mark flew across the court continuing to throw out encouraging remarks. He was good. Very good.
I wondered who else he was teaching.
Sierra was attending the front desk when I walked up about a half-hour later, looking just as cheerful as when I’d seen her yesterday. Her frown lines deepened when she saw me. But she wasn’t what soured my mood.
It was the female officer standing in front of her.
“Detective Bentley!” I said, walking over with confident steps. “What’s going on? Can I help you?”
She nodded quickly. “Hi, Ms. Swenson. Can we go someplace to talk privately?”
As we rounded the front desk, I murmured, “I’m sorry you were kept waiting. I had no idea you were here.” I led her to my office and sat down across from her. “Would you like some coffee?”
She shook his head. “No coffee, thank you, Maisie. Don’t worry, I just got here. The gal at the front desk was just about to call for you. Anyway, I have some good news and some bad news.”
I swallowed. This sounded ominous. “I’m assuming this is about Mr. Olsen?”
She nodded. “I’ll cut straight to the chase. The good news is that we’ve concluded our investigation of the pool and you’re free to open it up today.”
I raised my eyebrows. That was good news. “Lovely. Thank you for letting me know.”
“I’m afraid that’s not all. The bad news is that it most definitely was murder.”
I took a deep breath. Finally, it was there. The elephant in the room that had kept rearing its head up again and again.
“How?” I breathed out slowly.
Kristi paused for a second and shrugged uncomfortably. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But this is off the record.”
“Yeah. You got it.” I leaned forward, feeling breathless.
“The coroner is giving a tentative ruling cause of death as insulin shock.”
Insulin? “He was a diabetic?”
Kristi shook her head. “No. But somebody injected him with enough to cause a coma … and minutes later, death.”
“Oh, my stars,” I said slowly. I reached for a pen from the jar to give my hands something to do. Just fiddling with something relaxed me. “Have you been in contact with Mr. Phillips? How are you looking for the hotel to assist you with the investigation?”
“I’ll be getting a subpoena for the guest list this weekend. Other than that, I’ll let you know.” She stood and held out her hand. “I appreciate both yours and the Oceanside Hotel’s cooperation.”
“Of course.” I quickly shook it and followed her to the door. After our final goodbye, I pulled out my cell to call Mr. Phillips. It was a call I wasn’t looking forward to.
By twelve, all the Comic-Con guests were gone, and the hotel held a quiet hush only broken by vacuum cleaners. I was antsy, feeling like I had a tentative hold on my job.
Mr. Phillips was not pleased, reacting much as I’d expected. What was unexpected was a text I’d received about ten minutes after my conversation with him.
—Hope you’ll forgive me. I stole your number from my brother. I wanted to let you know this is in no way your fault. I’ll talk some sense into him when he calms down. Keep your chin up. This will work out.
-Jake- the rational Phillips brother.
Well, that did make me smile. Sierra watched me suspiciously as I read the text so my smile must have been bigger than I realized. I quickly wiped it off and tucked the phone back in my pocket.
I headed to the computer to prepare the guest list for Detective Bentley. I assumed the subpoena would be there by the end of the day. I was about halfway through the list when my cell began vibrating.
“Ms. Swenson? It’s Julie from housekeeping.”
“Hi, Julie,” I said, still scanning the list of names.
“Could … could you come up to room 418 for a minute? I found something weird.”
I paused and sat up straighter. Weird in the hotel business was a very fluid word. There were many, many things guests left behind, most too horrifying to go into detail here. So, it was with more than a bit of trepidation that I hurried up to the fourth floor to see what Julie had found.
The cleaning cart sat outside room 418’s open door. I walked inside, looking around for the housekeeper. The room appeared empty.
“Hello?” I called. The beds were in the process of being stripped and looked like a bomb of cotton sheets had exploded.
“I’m in here!” Julie called from the bathroom.
I made a beeline towards her.
Julie squatted on her heels. She held out a fuchsia-colored makeup bag in her hand. “I found this under a pile of wet towels. There’s medicine in it. She must have forgotten it.”
She passed up the bag and stood next to me to watch me open it.
Inside the bag were several compacts, a tube of lip gloss, and random facial brushes. There was also a plastic pill bottle. I bit my lip before reaching in to snag it out. The label described sleep medication, prescribed to Danielle. The final item made my hand freeze.
It was a glucose monitor.
Kristi Bentley had said the coroner believed that Norman Olsen had been given an overdose of insulin.
“Now, follow me,” Julie said, leading the way to the kitchenette. She opened the mini fridge and leaned back so that I could see inside. “Check it out,” she pointed.
In the back of the shelf, there were several glass bottles of insulin. None were more than half empty. I pulled out the trash can from under the counter and checked inside. It held a small hypodermic needle with a cap sitting on top of tissues, a couple empty water bottles, and other garbage.
I found myself hesitating again, remembering Andy’s face when Danielle spoke of Mr. Olsen. Would he have used her medication to poison him? It seemed too obvious and messy. And the trash had no empty vials in it. I shook the can. Had house cleaning already emptied it previously?
I carefully removed the trash bag and knotted it. Then I dialed Kristi. The call went straight to voicemail. I left a message. “Kristi, when you get a chance, I found something you might be interested in.”
Turning to Julie, I said, “Let’s leave this room as is until I can get hold of Detective Bentley. You did a great job letting me know.” Julie flushed from the compliment and hurried out into the hall. The cart’s wheels squeaked as she rolled it to the next room. I took another quick glance around and then called down to the front desk.
The room had already been reserved, but Sierra moved the reservation to another room and marked this one down for service. She hung up on me afterward. I sighed as I shut the door. Just one more fire to put out.
Chapter 10
I headed to the office, deep in thought. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around Andy murdering the man. He looked to be only eighteen, for crying out loud. Still, I remembered the flash of anger on his face when Danielle revealed he’d been fired.
Yeah, maybe there’s a chance he would have gotten revenge.
Clarissa was at the front desk and gave me a sunny smile.
“Where’s Sierra?” I asked.
“Lunch break. Hey, there’s still fresh OJ left over from breakfast this morning. Want some?”
“Awesome, can you have someone bring me a glass?”
“Sure thing,” she said, grabbing her phone to call down to the Breakfast Den, where the guests gathered every morning.
I walked into my office and sat in the chair. Kristi still had not answered my call, so I did the next best thing and texted Ruby.
She, of course, answered me back immediately. —What’s up?
—I think I found the murder weapon and can’t get hold of your sister.
The cursor blinked and then—Give me two minutes.
Ruby wasn’t exaggerating. Two minutes later, on the dot, my phone rang.
“Detective Bentley here.”
“Hi,” I felt awkwa
rd at her intro. Do I call her Detective even on the phone instead of Kristi? “Listen, I found something you should come back down and see.”
“What is it?”
“One of the guests who knew Mr. Olsen personally left behind her medicine. And among it was insulin.”
“I’m on my way. Keep everyone out of the room.” Kristi’s voice was direct and no-nonsense.
Detective Bentley arrived thirty minutes later carrying a small ice chest and, together, we trouped up to the fourth floor.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” I said.
“Thanks for calling.” She flashed me a smile and pulled on a pair of gloves. As we walked in the room, her gaze darted around looking for anything suspicious.
“It’s just over here,” I said, walking to the fridge. She examined the sides of the fridge before squatting down to open it. After unclipping her flashlight, she shone it inside and then under the counter. Finally, she retrieved the insulin bottles and stowed them away in a Styrofoam ice chest.
I stood behind her, my hands clasped behind my back. “I’m surprised Danielle hasn’t called to come get this. She must have noticed it was missing by now.”
“Don’t worry,” Kristi said with a wry grin. “I’ll be in touch with her soon.”
“Over here is where I left the makeup bag and trash,” I said, pointing to the bathroom counter.
Kristi looked over the fuchsia case before placing it in a plastic bag. She grabbed the trash and the ice chest. She glanced up, her gray eyes meeting mine. “You ever think about becoming a detective, Maisie? I think your talents are ill-used here.”
I grinned. “I write murder mysteries.”
Her face took a more interested expression than I liked at my comment. Somewhat abashed, I glanced down and clasped my hands behind my back again.
“Can I help you carry any of this?”
Kristi shook her head. “No, I’ve got it. I’ll be in contact with her. Can you tell me more about the people that stayed here?”
“They’re an interesting bunch. I was here earlier.” We walked out into the hall, and I shut the door behind me. “But, before I forget, is this room free to reserve? You don’t need it for anything else?”
The detective hefted the case against her chest. “I’ve gotten everything I’ve needed. But keep it out of the circuit for the next 24 hours just in case. I’ll know more after I talk with the young lady.”
“Now tell me,” she continued as we walked down the hall. I punched the down button, and the doors immediately opened. “Why were you up here?”
I filled her in with the conversations that had taken place. As we walked off the elevator and up to the front desk, I finished the one-two punch Danielle had delivered about Andy being fired from Olsen Studios.
Sierra was back, her eyes on us.
Kristi frowned. “Can you get me his number, too?”
Mr. Phillips had already cleared me to hand out anything that was asked for by the police, so I walked to the computer, the other two not being booted up yet. Sierra sat on a stool in front of it and reluctantly moved as I stood waiting. She hovered over my shoulder, watching my every movement.
Irritation crawled up my back, but I ignored her. Now wasn’t the time to say anything, not with Kristi standing right there. With a few keystrokes, I located his full name—Andy Davis—address, and phone number and scribbled them down. I passed the paper over the counter to the detective.
She took it and folded the paper, then slipped it into her pocket. “Okay, then. We’ll be in touch.” She gathered her stuff and headed out, making quick work of the revolving door.
“What are you doing? Creating scapegoats out of our guests?” Sierra asked.
“We found some evidence. Possibly even the murder weapon,” I answered.
Sierra climbed back on the stool as if trying to exert some type of King of the Hill authority. “I heard it was the son who did it. This just keeps getting messier and messier.”
What in the world? “How did you know Mr. Olsen had a son?”
She rolled her eyes. “Have you checked the news today?” Snapping the gum in her mouth, she turned the screen towards her and typed. The screen flashed with the local news.
“Caleb James to Inherit Father’s Legacy.”
Sierra turned back to me and said in a bored tone. “Isn’t it obvious?”
My neck suddenly felt stiff and my fingers fidgety. I opened the drawer and pulled out a rubber band, instantly feeling soothed by something in my hands.
“Thanks for sharing. No, I hadn’t seen that yet.” I stretched the rubber band and looked at her thoughtfully. “What’s going on, Sierra? I something bothering you at work or at home?”
Her eyes grew wary, and I saw her reach for her upper arm where the scar remained hidden. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you seem to have a problem with me,” I snapped the band.
“I’m just doing my job.” The vulnerable mask was replaced with a haughty look and her last words held a bite, a little dig towards her view of my job performance.
Okay, then. “Let me know if anyone needs me. I’m heading to lunch.”
“I’m sure we can handle anything that comes up,” she said with a sniff.
“Whether you think you can handle it or not, let me know if anything comes up.” Without waiting for a response, I marched to my room.
Chapter 11
Ruby called just as I poured myself a glass of sweet tea and was preparing to sit for lunch. Momma had made turkey sandwiches.
“Kristi get ahold of you?” she asked.
“Yes! Thank you so much.”
“We haven’t seen each other in forever. How about lunch?” she asked, this time her voice taking a wheedling tone. “Cafe Blanca?”
I needed to get away and glanced at my watch. “See you in fifteen.” Honestly, I could use some girl-talk time. I missed my friend Lavina and our gossip brunches back in Tennessee. Those were some good times. But her best friend, Elise, had just moved back to town and I knew Lavina had her hands full. From what I saw, Elise seemed to get herself into the oddest of predicaments, not that I could talk after what I’d been through with this conference.
“Momma!” I called.
“What is it?” she answered from the living room. “I’m watching my stories!”
“I’m heading out. I’ll eat the sandwich later.” I wrapped it in plastic wrap and placed it in the fridge. “And don’t give it to Bingo!”
“Pish!” came from the living room. Bingo peered around the corner after hearing his name. Seeing I didn’t have food, he wandered away.
I grabbed my purse and headed to the cafe. The Florida weather was warm and humid, as usual. The sky was clear, but in Florida, so I had learned, that didn't mean much. Sun and a cool ocean breeze one minute, black clouds and thunder the next. And then it would clear right back up again.
The cafe was located just outside a popular tourist location—a paddle board rental business. Motifs of palm fronds and tropical flowers were painted on the outside of the building. Round wooden tables with simple, black, iron chairs were scattered in front on the patio, the tables spruced up with coconuts and miniature umbrella centerpieces.
Ruby waved to me from a table against the front window.
As I sat, a young waitress came over for my drink order. When she left, I turned to Ruby.
“Thank you for inviting me out. I think I'm overdue for a breather from the hotel. On top of everything else, Sierra, one of my receptionists, is giving me a hard time.”
“Oh, girl! You poor thing!” Ruby gave me a sympathetic look.
“I just can’t figure her out.” I rubbed my forehead. “I usually always get along with everyone.”
“Maybe she’s just grumpy. Not everyone has to like you. Not everyone has taste.” She winked as a laugh shot out of me. “By the way, Kristi just called before you got here. She told me to warn you to be on your best behavior and to leave the policing to the p
olice.”
I rolled my eyes. First Momma, and now Kristi? Besides, I was already too invested at that point. I felt like I had something to prove, both to Mr. Phillips and to Sierra.
My sweet tea was placed in front of me, and Ruby's was topped off by a smiley blonde waitress. Ruby ordered a grilled panini and, after thinking for a moment, I ordered one, too.
“I wish I could say I would listen …” I said after the waitress left.
“But that's not the type of person you are? Oh girl, I can tell. Snoopy. Always so snoopy.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “Is that so?”
“Of course. I mean, it takes a hard head to keep all the fancy pants in that place happy.”
“That's definitely true.” The tea was refreshing, and so was the company.
“Don’t you remember when Douglas planned to TP the girl’s camp? What did you do?”
I squinted, trying to remember back to summer camp. Seemed so long ago. I didn’t want to confess I didn’t recall it. That’d just give her permission to exaggerate the story however she wanted.
“Oh, yeah,” I answered lamely.
“You snooped it out and ended up removing all the toilet paper from their dorms. And we had chili that night.” Her voice raised in laughter. “Those boys were dying.”
I chuckled. Those were some fun memories.
“And Fast Pitch!” she sighed. “Those were some good times.” She examined her bicep. “I was in such great shape then.”
I laughed. “Me, too. I wish I had the body now that I complained about back then.”
“You and me both, girl!” Ruby’s smile was mischievous. “So, not to change the subject, but who do you think did the deed?” She sipped through the straw, eyebrows raised in anticipation.
I looked up as the waitress brought us our food. “I don't know, honestly. There is so much going on with it all, some of it really gross.”
“What’s grosser than murder?”
“Well, Mr. Olsen may have been having flings with the young women that came to the Comic-Con. His son, Caleb, was labeled his biggest competitor on the internet, and today the story is that he’ll inherit his dad’s company. His wife is young—could be a motive there. And then I found out that one of his fired employees had access to the very drug that killed him.”