Mary Ellen Hughes - Maggie Olenski 01 - Resort to Murder

by Mary Ellen Hughes

  Maggie walked around some more to calm her nerves, her emotions still swinging between anger, amazement, and fear, then back again. When she felt calm enough she opened the driver’s-side door, ready to move on. A tan Plymouth chugged up the road - the only moving thing she had seen since the blue van had loomed up beside her, and she tensed, watching it. It contained an elderly couple, the man in a pork-pie hat. They slowed at sight of her, then, apparently deciding she needed no help, or perhaps afraid to stop? continued on.

  Maggie turned on the ignition, put the car in gear, and slowly, with nerve-rending scraping noises, pulled onto the road. Listening carefully for any strange knocks or bumps, she gradually relaxed as the engine and wheels responded with no evidence of major damage.

  Questions ran through her head as she drove, watching carefully for any sign of the demonic van ahead. Who drove it? Why did they do this? Was it a random act of violence or was it aimed particularly at eliminating her? And if it were aimed at her, what did they hope to gain by killing her?

  She thought of how casual - careless really - she had been with Lori’s notebook. So many people had seen it, perhaps overheard her talking about it with Dyna. Did one of them try to keep her from getting it to the sheriff? She wondered what the sheriff would say about this. Would it move him to more action?

  “My, my, my,” Sheriff Burger said, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he read the report Maggie had filled out. He hooked his thumbs into his straining belt and shook his head. “Those roads can be mighty tricky, can’t they?”

  “Sheriff, I didn’t lose control because of the turns. I’m a very good driver. I’d have to be to have avoided plunging down that mountain to my death. I’m telling you someone deliberately tried to force me off the road. I could have been killed!”

  “A blue van, you say? Did you happen to get the license number?”

  Maggie watched him reach for a pencil, preparing to write, just in case while scrambling to save her life she had managed to glance at and memorize the van’s tag numbers. She shook her head in exasperation.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “That’s too bad.” He laid the pencil down in evident disappointment. “A description of the driver?” he asked, with less hope now. Maggie shook her head.

  “Well, we’ll see what we can do, check up on it.”

  The phone on his desk rang, and the sheriff picked it up. “Earl, you ol’ son-of-a-gun.” He listened a moment and laughed a deep, chortling belly laugh. He glanced at Maggie as she waited stiffly, holding Lori’s journal on her lap, and turned away slightly. “Let me call you back in a few minutes Earl,” he said, and hung up, swinging back to face Maggie. She put the journal on his desk.

  “This belonged to Lori Basker.” She explained where it had been found, avoiding mention of exactly who had discovered it, and told of some of the things she had read in it. “I feel strongly that she was murdered by someone who worked with her at the Highview. I also think this same person, or someone closely connected, drove the van that tried to kill me.”

  “Hmm,” the sheriff said, as he pulled the journal to him and paged through it. “Does she say in here that she was afraid of anyone, or maybe threatened by someone?”

  “No, there’s nothing like that. It’s just that, knowing Lori, I think she was probably trying to help someone and innocently, naively, picked the wrong person. That journal, I think, contains clues to the identity of that person.”

  “Mm-hmm.” The phone rang again, and this time was answered in another part of the office. Before Maggie could say more, a deputy called over to announce that the mayor was on the line.

  Sheriff Burger put his hand on the phone and looked up at Maggie. “I thank you, ma’am, for bringing this in. And if we find out anything about the blue van we will surely call you. Ah, you’ll be at the Highview? You’re not going back home soon?”

  Maggie shook her head.

  “Well, you be careful now, especially on those twisty roads. You be real careful.”

  His solemn tone surprised her, and she saw a serious look in his eyes. Was it her imagination, or was he now warning her against more than a scraped car?

  Maggie nodded automatically, and the sheriff’s face quickly crinkled back into a smile. Before she even stood up he was talking cheerfully to the mayor, apparently about arrangements for the Fourth of July parade. Maggie walked to the door, but before going out glanced back. Sheriff Burger returned her look, and, leaning an elbow on Lori’s journal, waved a friendly good-by.

  Maggie drove back to the Highview, checking her mirror often for dark vans, or any vehicle that might seem to be following her. She hated the feeling of paranoia, the jumpy suspicion of any moving thing that now possessed her, even though she knew it was wise to be careful. As she pulled into the hotel’s parking lot, she looked around for any sign of the van and saw none.

  Walking quickly from her car to the front door, Maggie checked her watch. It was 11:45. Dyna’s aerobics class would have finished long ago. Maggie stopped at the courtesy table in the lobby and poured a Styrofoam cupful of coffee, wondering where she might find her friend, then headed down the hall to the exercise room.

  No sign of Dyna there. One rather paunchy man sat puffing rhythmically at the rowing machine, and a leotard-clad young woman, with a head band securing her hair, stood behind a high desk examining a schedule book. She looked up at Maggie with a shining, freckled face and smiled.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Dyna Hall. I think she was in the aerobics class.”

  “Yes, I remember her. Um, she might still be in the Jacuzzi.” She pointed the way and Maggie went down a short hallway, then opened a door that let out a wave of warm, humid air, causing every curly hair on her head to tighten.

  Dyna’s head and shoulders protruded from the circulating waters of the Jacuzzi, and her eyelids drooped drowsily. Maggie was glad to see her there alone and pulled a white plastic chair up close. Dyna’s eyes focused at the noise and she looked up.

  “Maggie, you’re back!”

  “Have a good workout?” Maggie asked, and took a sip of her coffee.

  “Terrific. If I did that every day I would be in such good shape. How’d it go at the sheriff’s?”

  Maggie told her about her near brush with examining the mountain-side treetops close up, and Dyna snapped out of her stupor.

  “My gosh, Maggie! You could have been killed!” she said as she straightened up.

  Maggie shrugged.

  Dyna pulled herself onto the edge of the hot tub and searched around for her towel, her silvery-blue suit dripping and catching the light. “You’ve got to get out of here. I mean, pack up and leave. C’mon, I’ll help you, and then I’m coming with you.”

  Maggie shook her head. “No, Dyna. I’m not ready to leave yet.”

  Dyna opened her mouth to protest, but Maggie cut her off. “Don’t you see? This proves we’re getting close. It proves, to me at least, that Lori’s murderer is right here. If we run away and do nothing, that person will likely go free. And someone else might be killed.”

  Dyna pulled her feet up to the Jacuzzi’s edge and hugged her knees, a worried look on her face. “But what if that someone else is you, or me?”

  “We’ll just have to be careful to avoid that, won’t we?” Maggie tried to smile, but her face grew serious again. “I mean, I’m going to be careful. Dyna, why don’t you go on home after all. I’d feel better if you did.”

  Dyna stared at her toes for a moment, chin on wet knees, then shook her head and looked up at Maggie. “Uh-uh. I’m not leaving you here alone.” She swung her legs to the floor and stood up. “C’mon, let’s go back upstairs. I’ll get dressed, and we’ll figure out our next move.”

  Back in her room, Maggie noticed the message light blinking on her phone, and she called down to the desk. Liz, her librarian friend had tried to reach her while she was out and left a number. Maggie punched it in and sat down, pulling paper and
pen close by, waiting to hear her friend’s familiar voice.

  “Hi Liz, it’s Maggie. You have something for me?”

  “Something, Maggie, but not a lot, I’m afraid.”

  Maggie listened as Liz explained the steps she had taken to find the information, checking newspapers and sports magazines for the time period Maggie had given her.

  “He wasn’t a big name, so it didn’t get that much coverage,” she said. What she did find, however, seemed to confirm Eric’s claim: Rob Clayton, rising young tennis pro, had abruptly withdrawn from the Wimbledon tournament. No explanation had been given beyond a vague claim of illness, but rumors had floated around about a violent argument with a girlfriend, and police involvement.

  “The girl’s name was Christy Hammond, a tennis player herself, American, and playing in the junior’s.”

  “How old was Rob at the time?”

  “Um, let’s see. Eighteen. Which can be a volatile age for some, as we high school educators know well.”

  “Mmm. That’s it? Nothing about charges actually brought or anything like that?”

  “That’s it. Again, he wasn’t a big name, so the press might not have followed up on it.”

  “Right. Thanks, Liz. I owe you one.” Maggie was about to hang up when she caught herself. “Oh, Liz! How would you feel about looking up a couple more things?”

  “Are you kidding? I’d love it! This is the reason I went into library science. It’s a great change from the usual junk I have to plow through all summer. You know – counting books, ordering new ones, all that really exciting stuff. Just tell me what you need.”

  Maggie did.

  “Do you want to let me in on what this is all about yet?” Liz asked. “I mean, you didn’t take a summer job with the FBI by any chance, did you?”

  Maggie laughed. “No, nothing like that. I’m actually on vacation. But you know me, the math perfectionist. If something doesn’t add up correctly it drives me crazy. I’ll explain more when I’ve got a few more numbers, okay?”

  “Okay, Maggie. I’ll get back to you.”

  Liz hung up, and Maggie sat next to the phone thinking. Soon she heard a knock on her door and a muffled call through it. “Maggie, it’s me.”

  Maggie let Dyna in, then told her what she had just found out about Rob.

  “Doesn’t make him sound like a sterling character, does it?” Dyna said.

  “No, but it’s very incomplete. Mostly rumors and innuendo. Actually, not much more believable than listening to Eric.”

  “Except, it at least shows he didn’t make the whole thing up.”

  “Yes.” Maggie scowled at the wall for a moment, then said, “Come on. There’s someone I’d like to talk to downstairs.”

  As they stepped off the elevator in the lobby, Maggie and Dyna spotted the silvery-haired Charles in his neat, navy blazer, checking in a new guest. They sat down on one of the several sofas in the lobby to wait, idly picking up tourist leaflets on a nearby table.

  Maggie looked at one that described the Civil War battlefield of Antietam, which was in the area. It looked interesting, and Maggie remembered her hope to visit it during her vacation. “Have you ever been here?” she asked Dyna, holding it up for her to see.

  “What is it? History? Ugh, no. I hate that stuff. Especially anything to do with wars. Upsets my karma.”

  The business at the desk was apparently completed, as the new arrival picked up one of his smaller bags and followed the bellboy carrying the rest of his luggage to the elevator. Maggie stood and walked over. Charles glanced at her and smiled as he gathered up papers.

  “Charles,” Maggie said, “I was looking for Rob earlier today, about ten, and couldn’t find him. Is he off today? I thought maybe I saw him drive away in a dark-colored van?”

  “No, I’m sure he’s here somewhere. And I believe he drives a more sporty vehicle - fitting, I suppose,” he added with a smile. “A white Miata,” Charles said as he opened an appointment book and scanned it. “Well, he was scheduled for a tennis lesson at ten, with a Mr. Anderson, but, ah yes, now I remember. He called here and asked us to reschedule it for later.”

  “When did he call, do you remember?” Dyna had come up beside Maggie by then.

  “Yes, it was shortly before ten. I remember because we nearly didn’t reach Mr. Anderson in time to tell him. It’s rather unusual for Rob to do something like that. He’s quite conscientious. So something rather important must have come up at the last minute.”

  “Yes,” Maggie murmured. “I’m sure it must have been something important.”

  She avoided looking at Dyna’s eyes.

  ***

  CHAPTER 15

  “You’re fighting it, Maggie.”

  “Dyna, I really think I’m just trying to keep an open mind.”

  They were having a quick lunch in the dining room and discussing their recent information quietly. Guests filled most of the tables around them, everyone apparently having had hunger pains at the same time.

  Dyna took a huge bite from her pita bread sandwich and chewed for a while. “You know, Rob was around when you were telling me about Lori’s journal this morning at breakfast. He could have overheard us from the other side of the hedge. Or maybe one of the kids said something about it. Remember, the first boy knocked it out of your hands, then picked it up?”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment. “No, scratch that. They wouldn’t have cared about some old journal. So Rob probably overheard it all. Then, he cancels his lesson, hops in the van, and tries to force you and your car down the mountainside before you can take the journal to the sheriff.”

  “But where did he get a van? Charles said he drives a Miata.”

  “Minor point. We’ll figure that one out later. Maybe he borrowed it from a friend.”

  “Oh, I see. As in, `Pardon me, would you mind if I used your van for a few minutes? I need to run someone off the road right now.’”

  Dyna grinned. “That’s a very defensive joke, Maggie. I think you agree with me, but you don’t like it.”

  “You may have some good points, Dyna. But that doesn’t mean you’re 100% right. And just as in math, with murder cases almost right just doesn’t cut it. I just need more facts before I start making conclusions. I’d like to try to find that van. Want to help me look?”

  “Where? Around here?”

  “Yes. At least to start. Maybe it came from somewhere else, but it obviously was very accessible to whoever decided to take off after me.”

  “Yeah, after he shook off the two kids.”

  “Dyna, please keep an open mind.” Maggie pushed back her chair.

  “I will as long as you do, too.” Dyna followed Maggie from the dining room. “Remember, if he killed Lori, he won her trust first. Made her think he was this super-nice guy who just needed the help of a good woman.”

  Maggie had to admit that that could be true. If he killed Lori. She was still keeping a big ‘if’ in her mind.

  They walked around the outside of the hotel, checking first the back parking lot, then the side, and found only the usual mid-size cars and a station wagon or two. One thin, grey-haired woman who had just driven in and parked, climbed out of her Volvo and looked over at them curiously.

  “Did you lose something, dears?” she called, her face puckered in kindly concern.

  “Just trying to remember where I parked,” Maggie assured her.

  “Oh, I do that all the time.” She smiled at them with understanding, pushed the strap of her bulging purse over her forearm, and walked towards the hotel.

  Maggie saw Dyna looking at her and shrugged. “What was I going to say? That we’re searching for a large vehicle with a murderer at the wheel?”

  “No, I guess not.” Dyna grinned. “Not unless you’re good at CPR, anyway. She would have fainted on the spot. Let’s go check the front.”

  They left that parking lot and circled to the front, shoes crunching on the gravel. There was less shade here, and the temperature
jumped about ten degrees. Maggie looked over the lot, her eyes squinting at the glare. No blue van in sight. An empty luggage cart banged out the front door, pushed by one of the bellboys, and Maggie hurried over, heading him off.

  “Have you seen a dark blue van parked here in the last day or so?” she asked.

  “Dark blue? No, the only van around here is that one over there.” He pointed to a cream-colored van at the end of the row which was spewing out its contents of bags, tennis racquets, beach balls and children.

  “I thought I saw a blue one leaving here this morning. Does anyone who works here have one?”

  “Maintenance has vans. I think some of them are blue. Maybe you saw one of them?”

  “Maintenance? Where are they kept?” Maggie asked, trying hide the intensity of her interest.

  “Over there, next to those buildings.” He pointed to an area west of the hotel, and Maggie put her hand to her eyes to shade them and looked over a large expanse of lawn that she had never crossed. She saw outbuildings in the distance.

  “Thanks,” she said. The young man shrugged and smiled and continued on his way to help the family with the cream-colored van unload. Maggie looked over at Dyna, whose face reflected her own excitement, and they took off over the grass.

  As they walked toward the isolated buildings, Maggie realized how glad she was that Dyna had stayed to help with her investigation. She was aware of how risky this could be for her to come here alone, unarmed. Unarmed! The thought of needing a weapon made her shiver. She rubbed at goose bumps on her arms at the same time that a trickle of sweat formed at her brow from the hot sun beating down on her.

  They approached the two buildings and spotted a gravel road leading to the other side, possibly connecting to the road that led out to the main highway. Large overhead doors stood open, exposing lawn equipment, work tables, and tools. No one appeared to be inside.