Nailed

by Avery Daniels

  Finally, she told me to close my eyes and picture the best kiss I’d had from Mason. I relived the heart-pounding kiss after the first self-defense instruction he gave me. Then she whispered for me to look at the camera as if it were Mason.

  “Perfect. That worked. Must’ve been a smoking hot kiss.” She smirked. I blushed down to my toes. It had been a great kiss. If only that beginning hadn’t been the closest we’d been thus far... well, no use going there.

  I grabbed my phone and walked to the restaurant to meet Kylie, careful to not trip or stumble. I took the elevator because I could envision the disaster of me in high heels on the grand stairway in everyone’s view. The elevator doors opened and I swiftly looked around the lobby. Justin at two o’clock. Crap.

  I stepped out of the elevator and behind a fake plant to the side. It seemed he might have been looking around for a while already. I think he discovered when the conference dismissed for the day and had staked out the restaurants and the activity board to catch me. Resourceful. After what seemed like an hour standing in heels, but more likely was about ten minutes, he left in the direction of the game room.

  I skittered across the lobby towards the restaurant, much more than a shuffle was too dangerous. I waited a few minutes before Kylie jogged up next to me. Without a word she led me to the entryway of Maximilian’s, she looked around and then pointed from behind a menu to one corner.

  “Okay, the dishwater blonde gal in the red sweater with a navy skirt over there. That’s Leona.”

  “Great, I’ll be dining here tonight to see if anything transpires. Porsche will tell the detective about her and I have a feeling Miss Dolman may get interviewed tonight before he leaves.”

  “I have to run, I’m assisting an activity. I’m dead on my feet and want a hard drink and relax as soon as I’m off shift. I hope my paycheck is worth all this.” With that she left, obviously walking slower than I had seen her before.

  I checked in for my reservation and asked if I could have a seat with a good view to people watch. Yes, I used those words. The maitre d’ smirked ever so slightly.

  I was led through an elegant room of linen covered tables adorned with candles ringed with flowers, and muted sounds glasses and silverware clinking. I was soothed by soft strains of smooth jazz. My small table was tucked along a rich wood paneled wall with a great view of most of the main seating area, and direct line-of-sight to Leona Dolman.

  To my right sat realtor Preston Pinder and his wife in the middle of their dinner. He wore a suit and tie and she was in a nice dress. They appeared bored, both scrolling or texting on their cell phones and ignoring one another. Leona seemed to pay them a passing interest.

  I got serious with my menu figuring Leona was still looking at her menu as well so I had time to order, eat, and watch. The menu had sticker shock value, with some meal prices not listed. I hope I didn’t yelp out loud.

  I opted not to have an appetizer since I wanted to be finished and ready to follow Leona whenever she left, plus it was cheaper. I hadn’t planned on that course of action, but sitting here I knew I would follow her no matter what I told myself. I decided on butternut squash soup and Chilean sea bass. I was pleased to see a note that they use the greenhouse to grow most of the vegetables. I even indulged in the recommended Riesling wine to go with the sea bass.

  The wine arrived with my soup and I settled in and relaxed with the subdued surrounding conversations lulling me. I let my mind wander over the puzzle that was this case. Very little evidence left behind but green yarn and a couple of green buttons. So far nobody had seen a person on her floor even during the hours of interest. But plenty of suspects who had grudges or issues with Kara Caine, realtor extraordinaire.

  I was in a reverie when Wade Lochran and his wife were seated in my view. I glanced at Leona and she looked over at the couple too. She stared for a while, but just when I would have thought it was getting suspicious, she began looking at another table and took a sip of her red wine. She stroked a beautiful pendant necklace around her neck as she gazed around.

  My dinner was delicious, and the wine was a perfect pairing to highlight the flavors. I noticed a few glances my way and I realized Leona and I were the only solo patrons in the restaurant, and most of the tables were couples. I felt very alone suddenly. I told myself that others were here alone, like Tammy.

  I realized Leona declined dessert, and therefore I did as well. She finished signing her bill and walked out while I was signing for dinner to go towards my room charges. I hurried to catch up with her and noticed she took the grand stairs up to the second floor. I followed behind at a slight distance.

  She had just used her key card towards the end of the guest hallway when I turned the corner. I slowly walked past and ducked into the exit stairwell with the door cracked so I could watch. I was making this up as I went, but there was no way I could stay here on stakeout in these shoes. The relaxed and contented feeling from dinner fled to be replaced with tension. What was I thinking? What would I witness standing here?

  Clearly, I hadn’t thought I would actually stake out a hotel room. I was surprised by it myself. It was ten minutes later when Detective Johan Larson knocked on Leona Dolman’s door. Ha, I knew he was going to interrogate her tonight. I mean “interview” her. Hope he and Porsche had a nice dinner between work duties.

  They were standing in the doorway as he asked her questions. Johan had just gotten to the third question when Wade Lochran and his wife returned from dinner and strolled up the hall and entered their room further down the hall from my hiding spot. They both took a slight interest, like when cars slow to drive past a wreck. I stood very still, not daring to breathe, willing myself to be invisible. Wade and his wife closed their door with a thud. I was softly shifted from side to side to relieve my sore feet. Finally, the interview was over and Johan left down the hall.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I slipped out of my hiding place and took my shoes off. I wiggled my toes. I didn’t want to go towards the lobby to traverse over to the other wing to my room in case I should run into Johan. I went back into the exit stairwell, the cold cement felt good on my aching feet, and trudged up to the third floor, nearly ran past 321, and then all the way over to my room.

  In my room, there was no sign of Porsche and I suspected she was trying to squeeze in every moment possible with Johan. I shook my head, I was worried about her this time. My phone rang. Not Mason. Aunt Regina, checking in no doubt.

  I spent about ten minutes assuring her that so far we were warm and safe and I was busy with the conference. Then the conversation took a different direction.

  “Dear, you know I’m not much of a computer person. Felicia was showing me that Google page thing, and well...” I swallowed and braced myself. “We looked up Mason because I didn’t think he was really a gambler. Dear, where did you say he was this last week? I don’t know how to tell you this...” Great, my humiliation was complete.

  “Did Felicia explain that he takes bodyguard jobs?” I tried to make my voice nonchalant whether I felt it or not.

  “Oh, she explained some story. I just don’t understand posing as a boyfriend if he has a girlfriend already.” Yeah, you and me both. She gets it.

  “I’ll talk to him about all that. Okay?” Since I already planned on just that.

  “Is that it? That’s all, you’ll talk to him. I can tell you’re keeping something from me. What’s going on?” I wasn’t even thinking about Kara Caine, how did she do that?

  “What are you talking about? Keeping something from you? What gave you that idea?” Because I need to know what gave me away. So not fair.

  “I have known you all your life. You’re not fooling me, I can tell.” That really didn’t help me.

  “I already told you about possibly having to stay longer with the weather and roads.” Just then I had an idea. “Say, we have a guest here that apparently is one of those love her or hate her type people. You ever heard of Kara Caine?” It was a long shot a
t best, but maybe she knew something.

  “I know she’s a realtor in town, she runs ads occasionally in the paper. Hmmm, she’s a bit confrontational at city council meetings and such. Kind of a flame-throwing type personality instead of reasonable, which isn’t that unusual on the paper’s webpage where people argue all the time. She’s like an attack dog with the editorials since that Lochran fella is just like Ms. Caine, just opposite sides of any topic. He and his wife are always involved in local politics and stirring the pot with his opinions on women’s place which sets the Caine lady on the warpath. She is single-minded in her tearing apart anything he says. I can’t think of anything else.”

  I was surprised she even knew about the paper’s message boards, let alone followed them with her continued proclaiming of how she doesn’t get the computer thing. Besides that, I hoped I had sidetracked her. But, that also told me the police had kept Caine’s murder quiet, possibly using the storm to give them time to uncover the killer for when they did release news on the slaying. That won’t last long with the townspeople knowing, word was bound to get around before too much longer.

  “Well, I want to go get some laps in at the swimming pool. I’m ...” She interrupted me.

  “Oh no you don’t, tell me what’s bothering you?” She had the mom voice that told me I wasn’t getting out of this.

  “Ummmm, well...it’s Porsche. She’s met a man and seems to be really smitten. She’s different this time and I fear the fate of a long-distance relationship.” Okay, all that was true technically. Sure, I was purposely omitting significant information. Ssssssssso?

  “Porsche huh? Well, I’ve been worried about that girl since you met her in high school. Let’s just give her some space to figure this out.” Whew. I hope Porsche wouldn’t mind how I used her to redirect my aunt.

  I wasn’t about to tell my Aunt Regina there was a murder. She would have my uncle Lars waiting first in line for the roads to open to rescue me. Which is well and good if I were a teenager, but not necessary.

  We finally said goodbye and I put on my swimsuit with a short terrycloth cover-up, some sandals, and an oversized bath towel. I slipped my cell phone, room key card, and some cash into my cover-up’s pocket so I could have a drink, or maybe two if I felt really daring. Yeah, that’s me – living on the edge!

  I had been looking forward to this and found myself wanting to skip down the hall. I didn’t because sandals and skipping were an evil conspiracy meant to trip me. I knew this from experience during my clumsy teen stage. Let’s just say wardrobe malfunction doesn’t begin to explain the humiliating end result to a summer at the pool. It’s safe to say, I’ll never skip in sandals the rest of my life, at least I hadn’t chipped my tooth on the lifeguard’s watch.

  The tall windows were beautifully frosted over from the humidity of the pool and Jacuzzi. The smell of chlorine mingled with whiffs of mixed drinks. The pool had several people playing water polo and about three-fourths of the chairs or loungers were occupied or reserved with a towel. The jacuzzi had several people but could fit me easy enough. I picked a chair to leave my towel and coverup on then my feet walked me right over to the cash bar, completely of their own accord.

  I decided to go with a tropical cocktail.

  “Do you make a rum punch?” Not everybody served this drink.

  “I certainly can, and they are gooooood.” The young woman smiled.

  She had fruit juices on hand for the children, so she had the key ingredients. She splashed orange juice, pineapple juice, cranberry juice, grenadine, raspberry rum and spiced rum in a glass with a couple ice cubes. I closed my eyes and took a sip, the tropical flavors and fruit juice smells conjured Tahiti in my mind, beachside on a hammock watching the waves break.

  “Oh, that’s a mini vacation in a glass,” I whispered. Just what I needed to forget the snowy isolation.

  I settled into a spot at the hot tub and said hi all around. There was a couple from Florida (images of the Ritz-Carlton in Naples flashed through my mind) here with their good friends to ski. They seemed to take the situation in stride and joked they could actually say they had been snow bound after this. One other couple was from Texas and here primarily for their son to snowboard. Dad pointed with a thumb to the pool where the son was playing water polo.

  “What brings you here? Skiing or a romantic getaway?” The lady from Florida asked me. For once in my life, I was bothered by the question. Especially after Aunt Regina’s concern over the reports of Mason with that starlet.

  “No, I’m here for the Resort Management Conference.” I plastered a smile I didn’t feel on my face.

  The man from Texas scrunched his eyebrows, “You work in resort management? Like the check-in gal?”

  “No, I’m in the management training program at my resort. I‘ll manage resorts when I’m finished with the program.” I was irked by the belittling comment, so I didn’t explain that I started at the front desk before I got the trainee job.

  His wife swatted his arm and gave him a glare. “Don’t mind him, honey. He’s a dolt.” I smiled at the wife and took a sip of my drink. I know I was supposed to listen and be on duty, but the warm water and jets were loosening the bruises from last night and the visit to the gym this morning. I could feel my muscles relax. I rested my head back against the rim and closed my eyes. My bruises probably showed on my shoulder where I hit the wall and my hair was going to frizz out with the humidity, but I didn’t care.

  I was analyzing my reaction to the man’s comment, entertaining the thought that I was realizing I would be alone when I took a resort job elsewhere. The downside to my dream career and wanderlust was how I would need to deal with homesickness and loneliness when that time came. Amid my heavy thoughts, the conversation around me intruded.

  “...what about that slighted friend? Serious anger issues with that one.” One of the Florida women said.

  “Remember her saying she hoped to dance on Kara’s grave one day?” The lady friend replied.

  “That’s right, she did. I remember it clearly.” One of their husbands answered.

  I really wanted to tune it out, but I just couldn’t convince myself to let the comments go. “When did she say that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  They looked at me, startled. The woman who swatted her husband for his snide remark explained, “Well, it would’ve been in the bar that night when we heard about Caine’s confrontations at dinner with two men. The wait staff began talking about it and once she...”

  “Debra, I think her name was Debra?” One of the husbands supplied.

  “Once Debra heard it was Kara she went on a rant. I’d never heard of the woman myself, but the place seems to have several people staying who know her.” Wow, chatty lady when she gets going. They must have encountered Debra before Porsche and I met the inebriated version.

  “I know she said Kara took credit for her work and won some award. I don’t buy it. Had to be more there for that much anger.” A husband interjected.

  Good point Sunshine State man. Porsche and I felt she was strong enough to have killed Kara and shoved her over the balcony. But did she have a more compelling motive to kill Kara? Did that award have a cash prize? Or could Kara have... I don’t’ know... stolen her boyfriend or something? Because that is certainly rage inducing. Cough.

  I decided it was time to do a little computer investigating when I went back to my room. I needed to see what information was out on the information superhighway on all the suspects. But, I wasn’t done with my drink or relaxing.

  The chatty Florida wife kept it going, “Well what about her ex? There had to be something more there than how she treated him, they divorced a while ago.”

  The other Florida woman finally added, “I saw Kara talking with that Bryce fella’s girlfriend. She just can’t let him be happy I think. She told the girl she wasn’t Bryce’s type, said he would dump her when somebody more suited to him came along, somebody with money. I swear, it’s as if she was trying to get ki
lled.”

  That was probably what spurred the argument Bryce had with his girlfriend and why she had left for another hotel. Kara Caine sure excelled at pushing people’s buttons, but this time somebody snapped and shut her up for good.

  The water polo match ended. I crawled out of the hot tub with reluctance and forced myself to do a couple of laps, stopping to catch my breath a few times. That was about all I could manage and gathered my items to return to my room.

  I still had another day of the conference, which had been extended through the afternoon rather than end after lunch since nobody was rushing to catch a plane home or checking out. They were adding some discussion panels.

  I entered my room to find Porsche was back and whistling...a love song from a movie. This was new territory. How had this happened so fast?

  “You’re mighty sappy with that song.” Maybe I could have gone easy on her, but I didn’t know how else to start the conversation.

  I got my own pajama top thrown in my face for my efforts. “Don’t burst my bubble toots. I’m enjoying this sensation that others have talked about and now I understand.”

  I stood with my mouth gaping open. How do you conduct an intervention? Because she was going home in a day or so, a matter of mere hours, and the love songs will turn to crying in your beer...err wine songs.

  “Kylie stopped by just to say nothing new since she had talked to you earlier. I said you’d catch up to her tomorrow. But I got a little tidbit of news. Seems Bryce’s girlfriend who left him in a tiff returned early the next morning to gather her items and took a cab to relocate to another hotel. All before the roads had gotten so nasty.

  “That’s pretty specific, how did you find that out?”

  “One of the doormen was happy to talk with me.” She smiled bright. I chuckled. I just bet he was.