Hidden Meanings
Page 11
“Thank you,” Sally said, blushing modestly.
Mr. Ruxton turned to Nancy. “Any word on what Karabell and Sharpless will be charged with?”
“I chatted with the police after I gave them my statement last night,” Nancy said. “They say Karabell will be charged with blackmail, but he may not ever be convicted. He claims he never asked Sharpless for hush money—Sharpless just offered it. Even though Karabell did take the money, he wasn’t really extorting it.”
“What about Sharpless?” Bess asked.
“Abduction, for one thing,” Nancy began, counting off the charges on her fingers. “That’s the most serious. Then unlawful entry, turning in a false fire alarm, two counts of arson, and three counts of reckless endangerment—for pushing the luggage trolley, for putting the dead rat on Gina’s pasta, and for giving the oleander skewers to the chef. And one charge of unlawful possession of a firearm.”
“That’s a lot of charges,” Mr. Ruxton commented.
“He’s confessed to everything, by the way,” Nancy added. “The police officers I talked to assume he’ll plead not guilty by reason of insanity. He might get off scot-free.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Bess said.
Gary Ruxton tipped his head thoughtfully. “Whatever happens, Bess, his career is finished,” he pointed out. “In a way, that’s the harshest punishment of all for him.”
Looking starry-eyed, Bess leaned toward the journalism teacher. “You have such insights into what makes a newsman tick,” she said in a gushy voice.
Mr. Ruxton seemed baffled by her comment. “It’s pretty basic human nature,” he said. “Oh, by the way, Bess, I have a message for you, from one of the bellmen in the lobby. He asked me to tell you he’ll be waiting to carry your bags when you check out this morning. I think he said his name was Ralph.”
Bess’s face crumpled. “Ralph?” she croaked.
“I think that was his name,” Mr. Ruxton said. “He seems like a nice guy. Well, so long, girls, and thanks again for your help.” With a friendly wave, he left.
“He probably thinks I’m dating Ralph,” Bess said, and moaned. “The awful thing is, Ralph thinks so, too, just because I had a soda with him in the coffee shop the other day.”
“You did?” George asked, incredulous.
“Well, I felt sorry for him!” Bess said, defending herself. “And besides, he’s not that bad.”
“Who’s not that bad?” Paul Lampedusa asked, passing by with a coffee pot in his hand.
“Lampedusa, no socializing with the hotel guests,” George said, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. “Today I’m a hotel guest.”
“I can’t believe you were working undercover all that time,” Paul declared. “You had me fooled.”
“Oh, right, I was such a superb lifeguard, you really thought I was a pro,” George said with a chuckle.
“We’ll take this up later.” Paul gave her a meaningful glance. He scooted over to a nearby table and got back to work.
Just then Bess glanced past Nancy to the door of the ballroom. “Look, there’s Nick Kessler,” she said, “still hanging around.”
As the girls turned, they saw Gina wave and run over to her old bodyguard. “Oh, yeah,” Sally said. “I forgot to tell you—Gina hired Nick back. When she found out that he’d stayed at the hotel for three days, still worried about her, she completely changed her mind about him. But she hasn’t let Ned go yet. I don’t think she’s worked up the nerve.”
Looking across the banquet room, Nancy caught Ned’s eye. He paused, a newspaper in his hand, and their gazes locked for a long, steady moment.
Nancy felt that old warm, tingly feeling flood through her. She turned back to Sally and said, “Somehow I don’t think Ned will be too upset.”
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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