Nailed

by Avery Daniels

  Once we left the meeting room with our Chocolate Belgium Torte, we returned to our room and I stuck the torte in the little refrigerator.

  “I liked the class. I’m glad we got at least some information, but even if we hadn’t gotten those tidbits I had fun. I’ll have to make this at home.” I shared. I was proud of our effort and thought I would make this for the next family dinner and surprise Aunt Regina.

  “Hey, looks like we have a message. The hotel phone is blinking its red light.” Porsche dialed the message retrieval number and listened. “There is something waiting at the desk for you.” She called down to reception. “They’re sending somebody up with something for you.”

  I hadn’t a clue what it could be, but after a few minutes, there was a knock at the door.

  “Miss Julienne LaMere, these are for you from our gift shop, we have an onsite floral greenhouse.” He handed me a bouquet of flowers with white lilies, lavender daisies, some white asters, a sprinkling of purple lilies, purple button poms, and greenery all in a royal purple vase. I tipped him and sat the flowers down. They were lovely and produced a soft scent that no doubt would perfume the room.

  I stared at the flowers like they were a Trojan horse, all lovely and innocent while hiding something dangerous. I took a deep breath and removed the card.

  “Ma bichette, I’m thinking of you. Stay safe. Wish we were together. We will have more time together soon. I promise. Mason.” It was a nice - lovely gesture but it made my heart ache a little. My heart squeezed, I had a hard time breathing and my eyes swam. I blinked away the tears and forced a deep breath.

  Porsche looked over my shoulder. “Ahhhh, he still calls you little doe.” I didn’t want to discuss this with Porsche. I was right, the beautiful flowers were an emotional ambush and I already knew what Porsche would say. At least I thought I did. I honestly didn’t know what I was feeling. Was I jealous of his time with an actress? Was I being needy or insecure and placing unrealistic demands on him? I was still working on what I felt. I put the card back and faced my dear friend.

  “Right now I’m concerned at the lack of progress we made this evening.” I changed the subject.

  “It wasn’t a total bust, we discovered it was the realtor guy who had the argument with Kara. We know that Bryce was seen around midnight at the hot tub.”

  “But at this rate, we’ll be picking up a few bread crumbs and get nowhere. Plus, I’ll be in the conference most of tomorrow.” I huffed.

  “You can pump that crowd, particularly during your luncheon time and between workshops. You may find a wealth of information. I can check out gossip all day. Besides, I’m hoping to interview that cop again”

  “You were questioned already today.” Porsche just raised her eyebrows at me. Oh, she had a guy in her sights. I chuckled.

  “Still, I think we need a plan of attack for gathering information.” I said.

  “Too bad we don’t have the Baker Street Irregulars like Sherlock,” Porsche said as she threw herself on her bed.

  Eureka.

  “That’s just what we need, a network of eyes and ears to help gather information. But who can we trust?”

  She propped herself up on her elbows, “What? You can’t actually think we can create a network of complete strangers and possible suspects.”

  “Well...what if we handpicked a few of the staff who have worked here for a while, so they are trustworthy, and asked them to share information they overhear of the whereabouts of the few names on our suspect list?”

  “You think an employee couldn’t have killed her?” She challenged.

  “I don’t think so, they’d have no motive. She seemed to be new to the resort. Plus, any information they gather will no doubt be verified by Detective Larson. It isn’t like we’re asking for physical evidence, just hearsay which is just what Larson was trying to get from me.” It wasn’t the best argument, I grant you that. Still, I thought it was reasonable.

  “I guess it could work. It would cover more ground. But, why would they tell us anything they hear?”

  “I think the staff probably knows I had dinner with Larson, and if you start pursuing him it will look like we are working with him. We can hint at doing some legwork for him while his time is being taken with the storm issues.

  We compiled a list of who we would approach in the morning to help us out. I would find Kyle and Zack from breakfast and enlist them. Porsche had a doorman she could talk to about helping.

  “Feel better with our Resort Irregulars plan?”

  “Yes, actually I do.” I just hoped it would work. In a way, I had the same setup with my neighbors last fall as they each funneled information to me about the pastor’s murder.

  Before bed I texted Mason. “Got your flowers. They’re beautiful.”

  Mason: “Thinking of you. Don’t let time apart get you down.”

  “Up early –good night.”

  Mason: “See you in my dreams. xoxo”

  A heavy sigh escaped me. He seemed like the perfect boyfriend, yet I was in turmoil. I closed my eyes hoping for dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  My sleep was plagued with strange dreams of raccoons staring at me through the window while a killer tried to break into my room. I woke up feeling like I’d worked all night and then was slapped with the smell of a bouquet of flowers from Mason. Argggg. I was in a fog so I crept around in slow motion letting Porsche sleep. A hot shower helped clear the last bits of the dream away.

  I had just enough time to talk with Kylie and Zack before going into my conference for most of the day. Porsche was just up and making coffee in the single serve in-room coffee maker by the time I was rushing out the door. I didn’t see Kylie anywhere in the breakfast café and Zack was swamped. I promised myself I would track them down when I had enough free time.

  I went to the conference main meeting room and claimed a seat in the second row. The large room had rich polished woods from the tables to the paneling, along with comfortable padded seats and stylish lighting. Nice carpeting helped muffle noise from scraping chairs and foot traffic. The setup was a basic classroom setting with rows of tables and chairs with a middle aisle. The wood frames with gold fabric were stylish and sound absorbing removable panels between rooms. They would likely remove these panels between several rooms to accommodate our luncheon.

  In spite of the warm fabrics and polished woods, it felt like being in a box inside an isolated hotel. I recognized a tickle of claustrophobia that even the few multi-paned windows with limited visibility into a frozen snowy white world didn’t alleviate.

  More attendees were filtering in and the tables were slowly filling up. I found fresh coffee and breakfast goodies at the back of the room. I could have let out a cheer at the sight, but it would have been anemic at best. I also discovered Kylie bringing in a second tray of breakfast items.

  “Oh, hi ma’am. At least all you conference attendees will be busy during the day. The worst thing about this blizzard is how everyone will get antsy and bored. Well, I guess the worst thing is being stuck, but you know.” Her perky youthful voice was almost too much for me after my troubled sleep. The noise level had crept louder and I felt I was talking too softly to be heard by others.

  “Kylie, I needed to chat with you.” I strolled over to a quiet corner out of hearing from others who were milling around.

  “Ma’am, is there a problem? “

  “I don’t know if you are aware of my meeting with Detective Larson last night.” I left it as not quite a question.

  Her mouth quirked up into a half smile. “Oh, the staff are all talking about it alright. We didn’t think you were his type.”

  “I don’t know about that, but he’s going to be rather busy with public safety demands with the blizzard. He asked me to assist him by keeping my eyes and ears open for any information on a few people regarding the other night.” I kept my voice to a confidential level.

  Her eyebrows went up.

  “I was hoping to
enlist your help for the next few days. We’re interested in certain people and their whereabouts that night and early morning. Anything you might pick up on in a conversation. Do you think you could tell me and I can compile the information and give it to Detective Larson?”

  I held my breath while she considered. It seemed like ages, but her eyebrows finally settled down to normal. She puckered her mouth in that old hmmmmm, I don’t know about this expression.

  “Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you at lunchtime.” She spun around and went back to the refreshment tables, grabbed two empty carafes and left to refill them.

  I loaded a plate with the dish Kylie had delivered labeled “Baked French Toast Bagel with a maple glaze” and some black coffee. I sat in my seat and ate the small bites of baked and coated bagel. I was fretting over whether the Resort Irregulars idea was going to blow up in my face and barely caught the announcement from a conference volunteer.

  “...total snowfall from yesterday until midnight has been twenty-two inches. It continues to snow, but the temperatures are expected to drop making it too cold to snow by this afternoon. Predictions include increased winds as well. So folks, it looks like we’re here for a while. They can’t get the roads cleared with the blowing snow and dropping temperatures would be deadly if a car gets stuck on the road.”

  "Not to mention the danger of a car getting struck by a snow plow when they come through.” An audience member added.

  The woman sitting next to me leaned over, “I’m from New Mexico, is this typical weather?” I estimated she was in her late forties. She had shoulder length golden styled hair, basic makeup, manicured nails, and wore a dress with a matching blazer that gave the impression of feminine yet professional. Her voice was measured and assured.

  “Not particularly. But the Rocky Mountains certainly get their share of snow and storms. This weather system is a combination of factors.” I was used to hearing snowstorm horror stories growing up in the state. People still talk about the Christmas blizzard of 1982.

  “On the local weather, they called it an Albuquerque Low. I was surprised by that name. I wanted to defend New Mexico’s honor somehow.” She smiled to soften her words and I suspected she was trying to strike up conversation more than anything else.

  “It’s only named that because the storm, a low-pressure system, swings down to Albuquerque area then directly up to us in Colorado. Those storms tend to pack a wallop with a lot of snow. Nothing against your state, I promise.” I hadn’t seen her around before. I couldn’t help but consider her as a potential source of information, for both my career and my murder suspects.

  I held my hand out, “Julienne, management trainee from Colorado Springs.” She shook my hand and a toothy grin blossomed.

  “Tammy, assistant manager from Santa Fe.” We exchanged cards.

  I sucked in my breath. Dawn’s Waterfall Spa Resort was a smaller resort but consistently received perfect ratings from guests and had been featured in a hotel management magazine for their customer satisfaction. Plus, the property sounded beautiful, peaceful, and rejuvenating with their yoga and exercise classes. I wanted to visit there someday rather than the large Santa Fe resort with golf and a casino.

  “I read the article on your property. I have dreamt of staying there when I get to Santa Fe.”

  “And I want to visit your sprawling resort as well.” She crooned with enthusiasm.

  “How long have you been in resort management?”

  “Oh goodness, I hate to give my age away, but a good twenty years now.”

  I had a good feeling about Tammy, she had an air of competency and quiet authority that was reassuring. She was a successful woman in resort management and probably had seen many changes in the industry over the years that I could learn from.

  People were moving to the workshop they wanted for the first session of the day. I was headed to the Hospitality Computer Applications session but didn’t want to stop chatting with Tammy.

  “Would you mind if we sat together at lunch? I would love to discuss this career path with you.” There, I invited myself. You always hear about finding a mentor, but how to go about it isn’t covered as much. I hope I didn’t seem like I only wanted to pick her brain.

  “And I’d love to get some insights from a younger generation.” She smiled in return and I did a little happy dance internally.

  Two morning sessions done and we were all back in the large room set up with round tables that crammed ten people together. My sessions had been chock-full of information. But my rough night and the emotional strain of the last day left me with a sluggish mind.

  I spotted Tammy and joined her at a table close to the speaker’s podium. Lunch was a buffet and Kylie and Zack both were tending the food setup. The buffet was at the back of the room making it less convenient to talk to Kylie and Zack as the crowds descended.

  I excused myself from Tammy and rushed up to Kylie.

  “Can we talk before lunch gets underway?”

  “I have to be quick, they’re keeping us busy since we’re stuck here too.” She didn’t sound happy.

  I followed her to the end of the buffet table as she got the meat cutting station ready.

  “Did you think about our discussion?” I jumped in, she would either help or not. If she said no I hoped she wouldn’t tell Detective Larson. Porsche said she would corner – I mean meet with – Larson and share what information we gathered last night. Maybe he would go easy on us if she were dazzling him.

  “I saw your friend with Larson this morning. I guess you guys are helping him. I’ll pass along anything I hear.” I was equal parts relieved and excited.

  Guess Porsche was charming the detective as she planned. The man didn’t have a chance. I tried not to smile or jump like a kid for Porsche. No happy dance in front of everyone, it’s rude after a murder. I felt Porsche going for a more serious man was a good sign.

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m going to ask Zack to help as well, but I’ll have to catch him after lunch.” Kylie continued.

  I caught sight of Zack running dishes to the table on a cart and off again to the kitchens. I took a look around, nobody was paying any attention to us. Good.

  Kylie leaned close, “I can fill Zack in. Tell me the names you want us to listen for info on.” She was rushed so I quickly ran down my list with ex-hubby Bryce and lawsuit-Chris at the top. I know Detective Larson was only interested in the Bryce and Chris, but I was saving him the trouble of adding to the list later. I’m doing him a favor, really. I’m thoughtful that way. See my halo?

  “Either Zack or I will come by your room later and tell you what we have from today. What time should we meet?” She was shuffling items to look busy since she had finished the meat station. She glanced around a few times, her eyes following people.

  “Would ten be too late? I know you have long days starting with breakfast rush.”

  “We aren’t allowed in a guest’s rooms so be ready to open the door and let us in, so we aren’t seen.” The din of people talking over each other was growing louder, even some raucous laughter contributed to the noise.

  Back at my table I tried to breathe deep and relax, but I kept watching for Zack. He was doing the legwork of the crew and once the buffet table was open, conference attendees descended in a wave. I saw Kylie pull him aside to talk. I lost sight of them though and didn’t witness his reaction.

  Between bites of Chicken Cordon Bleu, I looked for an opening to steer the conversation. I almost hated to spoil enjoyment of my lunch with thoughts of violence.

  Talk at the table was focused on the weather and concerns on being stuck into next week. I couldn’t imagine the weather staying bad for that long; Colorado’s storms usually hit and ran letting roads clear before another storm and thus providing a reprieve.

  “What about the murder, won’t we have to stay for the investigation of the murder?” I jumped at my opportunity, hoping to turn the conversation toward the murder. The poli
ce couldn’t actually hold us to investigate, but if I was very lucky it would at least get the conversation flowing in the direction of the murder.

  “I don’t think they can force us to stay. It just doesn’t seem real though, a murder in such a reputable establishment.” Said a man in his fifties who wore a business suit and an aloof aura. Most attendees were dressed in nice jeans or khakis and sweaters. It seemed what he really meant was murder didn’t happen among the wealthy and he was shocked, just shocked. I wanted to snort out loud at his naiveté and pretension. I held back rather than embarrass myself.

  “I’d have thought somebody would’ve seen or known something and an arrest made by now.” I resisted telling them to work with me and talk already.

  “Oh, I think the problem is who to focus on, there are a plethora of suspects. You either loved Kara or hated her from what I’ve heard.” I wanted to kiss the matronly woman with curly graying hair who offered up that gem. She wore impeccable jeans with a seam ironed down the front. Her voice was melodic but hinted at steel underneath.

  I nodded my head in agreement and looked at the others while taking the last bite of my chicken. I turned my coffee mug right side up to indicate I wanted coffee now that I’d finished the entrée.

  One woman, Nancy I think, leaned in and said, “Well, the friend that she betrayed sure has plenty to say about her. I listened for fifteen minutes as she ranted about what a horrible person she’d been. She has an abundance of pent-up anger. I have to wonder where she was when the Caine woman went flying down three stories to her death.”

  “I think she closed the bar that night getting plenty polluted from what I heard. That was around two. I also heard she left alone, so no alibi for her.” The matronly woman replied.

  The horses were out of the gate, so to speak. They were nearly talking over each other and I struggled not to miss anything. I didn’t want to take notes in front of them, so I would have to jot this down after lunch.