by CeeCee James
“Wow, who knew there was so much drama in the world of gaming?”
“I agree. It's really shocking.”
Ruby took a bite of her panini and chewed slowly. “Well, hopefully, they arrest someone soon.”
“I hope so, too. We’re having another convention this weekend, and the hotel is supposed to be packed again. I don’t need rumors that we have a killer still running amok or people are going to cancel. Which means the hotel could lose some of the vendors.” I sighed. “I could even get fired.”
“Fired? How is this your fault?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I felt a wave of heaviness descend on me. I reached for my straw wrapper and twisted it around my finger. My eyes caught hers again. “So that’s why I have to figure out what’s going on.”
She nodded, and we ate, the two of us people-watching as tourists came and went from the paddle board store. Soon our conversation steered back to memories of our summer camp days, and I felt some of the stress melting away.
“By the way,” she said, holding up a French fry. “Have you met the hotel owner's brother?”
I felt my face heat as the memory of him wrapped in a towel came to mind.
She took one look at my face and let out a loud whoop. “I guess so, then!” She leaned over to whisper conspiratorially. “He’s stunning, isn’t he?”
I took a bite of my panini and let my waggling eyebrows answer for me.
Ruby laughed again. “And very, very single. The only trouble is that he doesn’t seem to let anyone in after his engagement fell apart a few years back.”
“How do you know so much about him?”
“Girl, no matter what the population number says, this is still a small-town at heart. All the gossip gets around. Anyway, I heard she broke his heart.” Ruby sighed. “Too bad for the rest of us.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find someone out there to mend his broken heart.”
Ruby pointed a French fry at me. “And wouldn’t you like to be the one!”
I shook my head. “Not so fast. Now you’re sounding just like Momma.”
“Well, I’m in good company then.”
“We could all aspire to that, I suppose.” I took the last sip of my tea and glanced at my watch. “That’s all the time for me. Thanks for the invite.” I slipped a twenty out of my purse and placed it under my plate.
“I’ll call you later,” Ruby called out after me. “And just so you know, his favorite color is blue!”
Chapter 12
Blue. I smiled as I walked into the hotel. Like I’d care about a thing like that. Still, the unbidden image of my blue summer dress came to mind. I did look awesome in that thing.
All right, knock it off. You’ve got a job to do, I admonished myself. Seeing Sierra at the front desk was like getting a cold bucket of water dashed over my happy feelings. I walked back to my office to see about the itinerary for the weekend’s conference.
Once seated at my desk, I clicked open my messenger to check for messages. Five, ten, twenty … I blinked as more messages came in. What in the world?
The top one was from Mr. Phillips. With a tiny whimper, I opened his first.
Ms. Swenson. What’s this I hear about gossip flying around at the hotel? Something about you framing one of the guests? Call me ASAP.
The next message was from the housekeeper, Julie. I heard the guest was the killer! Do I get some of the reward for finding him?
I scrolled through the rest of the messages quickly—everyone from housekeepers to news reporters was questioning me about Andy Davis.
My mouth fell open as I pushed back from the desk. Frantic tickles started at the base of my neck, and I searched my desk for something, anything to hold. Finding a ball point pen, I began to click it on and off. I’ve only been gone an hour? How does everyone know?
Then, like a bell going off, I remembered Sierra’s face. It was her, I know it was. I was so angry I wanted to break the pen, opting instead to throw it in the drawer as hard as I could.
Massaging my neck, I put a call in to Mr. Phillips.
“Hello?” he answered gruffly.
“Mr. Phillips, I’m not sure how you heard. The police only left with the evidence an hour ago. I didn’t share this with anyone, other than the desk clerk, Sierra, who helped me look up his name in the system for the detective.”
There was a long breath. “Sierra?”
“Yes, sir. That’s the only other person that had the guest’s name.”
“Ms. Swenson, I’m sure you can imagine the type of negative PR that comes from having one of our guests the focus of a police witch hunt.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re the one that alerted the police?”
“Yes sir, as soon as I was made aware of the medication left behind, I called the detective. I believe the case will be solved soon.”
“What’s the motive? The guest didn’t like how the video game ended?”
“He was recently fired from Olsen Studios, sir.”
A loud hmmm emanated from the other end of the phone. “All right. Thank you for getting back to me. It seems you really do have this under control. I’ll be speaking with the desk clerk shortly. And don’t talk to the press.”
“Absolutely not, sir. Thank you.”
The phone clicked off. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t smile a teeny bit.
Okay. Back to business. I searched for the info on the next new convention. It was going to be a Fantasy/Sci-Fi multi-media workshop, with authors and filmmakers from around the country attending. Their request list seemed pretty simple and mostly focused around them being able to put up their sound system, chairs, and theater screens.
It was about twenty minutes after reading the workshop’s itinerary that the medical bracelet popped into my mind. For crying out loud! In the rush of the other evening, I’d forgotten to put the bracelet in the lost and found. I rifled through a pile of post-it notes stuck to the side of my computer monitor to see if there had been anyone asking about it.
It has to be Danielle's. And I did see her at the tennis court.
But the tennis court was not directly accessible by the dog park. Which meant she would have had to be in the Park for Pups for some reason or another.
As I was puzzling this, there was a knock on my door.
It was Sierra, looking slightly mollified. “I’m here to apologize for allowing the news to slip about Andy Davis.”
I thought of several different courses to respond, including a sarcastic remark about doing her job. Instead, I opted for something similar to an olive branch. “These things happen. I know how the gossip works at a hotel.”
She nodded. “Clarissa’s at the desk. I’m taking my break now.”
“Fine. Hey, let me know if a guest comes looking for a medical bracelet.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
I let her go without a response, not the most professional way to address her sarcastic last word, but my attention was caught. In my hand was a note that read, “Maintenance scheduled to enter Ms. Swenson’s suite at one.”
What in the world? Who scheduled that? Because it only could have come through me. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was after three-thirty pm. Frowning, I tucked the note away and headed out of the office and down to the suite.
Opening the door, the smells of chicken and vegetables greeted me from the kitchen. Despite the panini, my stomach rumbled in response.
“Momma, it smells delicious!”
“Well, darlin’,” she answered from the kitchen. “If you’d just find yourself a man, you could quit working and have this every day!”
I kicked off my high heels and bent down to say hi to Bingo. “Why do I need to cook if I have you, Momma?” I whispered my answer to the dog. I’d never dare let Momma hear my sass. The animal’s tail swung wildly back and forth as if agreeing with me, his pink tongue hanging out.
“So, what happened after I left?” I yelled. “I found a note that said
you had maintenance come by? What happened?”
“Yes, I had to call. The maintenance man left just a little bit ago. And, boy, that man was an odd duck,” Momma called back.
“Why?” I walked into the kitchen and climbed on one of the two bar stools.
Momma had her apron on and was cutting some carrots.
“What happened?” I asked.
“The power went out before I had a chance to fix my face.” She sighed. “And, you know how I can’t draw my eyebrows on correctly without the proper light.”
I carefully checked Momma’s face. Two penciled-on eyebrows raised back at my look. “Well, then, so he fixed it?” I reached over and snagged a carrot sliver.
“No. What’s wrong with this young generation anyway? He was shaking like a leaf for one. He came in my room and just jiggled the mirror plug in the outlet a few times and then insisted on looking at the outlet in the bathroom.”
“That’s weird.” The ‘young generation’ comment threw me. Both of the maintenance men were about my age.
“Well, he was a bit weird.” Momma dumped the chopped carrots into a steaming pot. “He left without doing anything. About two minutes later, the power came back on.” She shrugged. “Course, maybe the younger generation have a new way to fix it?” She gestured to the lights overhead. “As long as it worked, I’m not going to question it. He did ask weird questions, though.”
“Questions?” I asked. Something wasn’t right. The maintenance men tended to go about their business and stay out of everyone else’s, making them some of my favorite employees in the hotel.
“He kept asking about where you were and what you did here. He wanted to know if you used to be a cop or anything like that. Very nosy for an electrician.”
My blood turned to ice. “Did he do anything or take anything?”
“I mean, he fiddled with the outlet. It still didn't work when he was done.”
I shook my head. “And then he went into the bathroom? Did you go with him?”
Momma nodded. “Do you think I’d let him back there to steal my jewels?” Her wrinkled hand raised to clasp the pearl necklace she always wore. “I watched him, but he didn’t really do anything other than take the outlet cover off. Bingo didn’t like him much, though. Did you, boy?”
Bingo gave her a big doggy grin. Momma reached into her pocket, pausing when she caught me watching. She pulled her empty hand out with a frown. “You shoo, now. I need to get back to dinner.”
I nodded absently and then walked down to the bathroom. Everything seemed in place. Leaning down, I examined the outlet cover. What in the world? The plastic cover wasn’t screwed in, and two tiny screws lay on the counter. I gave the face plate a push. It fell off into my hand. The hair on my neck raised. I didn’t know enough about electricity to know if I was about to get electrocuted, but I could just imagine lightning shooting out of the hole. Why wasn’t this put back together? Was the electrician planning on coming back?
Taking a deep breath, I peered into the hole. Nothing looked odd, at least nothing I noticed. As if I even knew what I was looking at.
Why would he want to check out this specific outlet?
I’ve got to call him. I searched for the maintenance number in my phone book and pressed send. As the phone rang, I idly looked at the plastic cover in my hand.
Every hair on my body stood up.
There was black writing inside as if written by a Sharpie.
“Lovely mother. Let’s keep her that way.”
I stood frozen, staring at the words before slowly hanging up. The first thought I had was, “Don’t tell Momma. There’s no need to worry her.”
For the second time of the day, I scrolled for Kristi.
“Detective Bentley,” she answered.
“Someone’s been in my suite. And I think I’ve been threatened.”
Chapter 13
It was pretty anti-climactic when Kristi showed up. She snooped through the rooms, examined Momma’s makeup mirror, bagged the outlet cover for evidence, and petted the dog. Bingo was in his height of glory at the attention.
Momma didn’t question why the officer was there, still being busy making dinner.
I remembered the bracelet and pulled it from the pocket of my business jacket. “I found this the other night in the dog park. I meant to turn it in to the lost and found, but maybe it’s another clue.”
Kristi took the bracelet and scraped over the broken clasp with her thumbnail.
“Do you think it’s Danielle’s?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It looks like a man’s. See the size of the bracelet?” She looped the ends together, making a circle that I could easily slip my hand in and out of. “Sometimes we get coincidences in this line of work.” She handed it over. “Keep it safe and let me know if anyone comes looking for it.”
I nodded and took it back.
“By the way,” Kristi continued. “Miss Danielle also check out about the medicine. She was shocked she’d forgotten it, and blames it on being scatter-brained from a date with the tennis instructor?” She lifted her eyebrows in question.
“I did see her with him that morning. I guess that could have happened.”
“Well, she’s still on our radar but you’re free to open that room, now.” She sighed. “You keep your doors locked and eyes peeled.”
We said good bye and she left. I didn’t tell her I’d talk with her soon. I didn’t want to see her again for a long while, no offense to her. I needed some normal, no detective, non-murder, stress-free time.
I walked back into the kitchen where Momma had the oven open wide.
“Well, what did she have to say? Is she staying for dinner?” Momma asked, rearranging a pan in there.
“No, she had to get going. Anyway, I’m learning that the guy that died might not have been very nice,” I said as I opened the fridge. I hung onto the door for a second just waiting for something yummy inside to jump out at me. Mmm, there still were two slices of cheesecake left from the other night.
“You get out of there!” Momma scolded, taking off her oven mitts. She set the timer and then walked to the kitchen table where a crossword puzzle book sat open. She grabbed a pencil. “Now what do you mean, died? I thought you said he was murdered.”
“Yeah, murdered. I just don’t like saying it.”
“Well, the wife did it,” Momma said, reaching for her reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck and firmly pushing them on her nose.
“Momma!”
“I told you before, the wife is always the guilty one.” She frowned at the paper. “And what’s another word for quiet that’s seven letters long?”
“Silence,” I answered with a smile.
“Pish,” she said. “I gave you a chestnut. Too easy.”
“If it was so easy, then why did you ask me?”
Her laugh lines deepened as she looked at me. I could tell she felt clever. “It was a hint,” she said and then began cackling.
“Whatever,” I laughed and headed to my room for my computer. “I’ll give you silence then.”
“I’m just kidding!” she called. Bingo started to get up to follow me until she whispered to him. I heard the familiar rustling of the cookie box and then the crunch as she passed down the treat.
“Those aren’t good for him, you know!” I yelled from my door.
“What was that word again?” Momma sang back in a sassy tone.
Whatever. At my desk, I turned the computer on and brought up my mystery story. I was just getting to the part where the killer was going to befriend the store clerk. This was my world, a place I could escape the day’s stress and make things happen the way that I wanted them to. I rubbed my hands together, grinning in delight at how creepy I planned to make it. I started typing.
Rain hit the window. The clerk glanced to see a pale face staring at her through the window. She suddenly wanted to run over and lock the door. But of course, that was silly.
“And, anoth
er thing,” Momma called.
“What?” I said, trying not to sound aggravated. I didn’t do well switching between my “reading/writing” hat to my “talking to other people” hat.
“We need more toilet paper!”
Toilet paper? We’d just bought some. “How are you going through a package of paper so fast?”
“I need the rolls for a craft,” she announced. “I saw a delightful one on Pinterest. It’ll be perfect for the Fourth of July!”
I whimpered. Lovely. Momma found more crafts on Pinterest.
Chapter 14
Well, now I was thoroughly distracted. There was only so much I could take after knowing someone left a threat in my bathroom, and the news of Momma’s creative Pinterest crafts had pushed me over the edge. I minimized my story and brought up the browser. Time to see if there’s any more news on Mr. Olsen.
This time, I thought I’d try a different search engine to see if I got more results.
The first story that came up was about his death. The article called it suspicious, but they hadn’t labeled it murder yet. They used the same picture I’d found earlier of him and his son, Caleb, with the sword. This article was more in-depth, with the headline reading, “Will Olsen Studios be Merged with Vertigo Games?”
The article was well written and stated that Caleb owned the company called Vertigo Games. It went on to further describe a friendly rivalry between the two companies. Apparently, Caleb had just branched out and created a one in a million hit with his newest game Madar’s Forest. I read further. It was a role-playing game that seemed to mimic and even mock a game that Olsen Studios had developed the previous year. It also was number five of the most popular games for the year.
Very interesting. So, the two men were rivals in a sense. I wondered why Caleb didn’t have the same last name as his father. Out of curiosity, I typed in Caleb James.