Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 04 - Dirty Deeds (5 page)

Who came and went from this room could be an important clue.

I knew that Clint wanted to handle things his way. The last thing I wanted to do was interfere and somehow mess things up. But the more information a person was armed with, the better. That was my theory at least. It had worked for me so far. I hadn’t gotten anyone killed … yet.

I sat upright, not even a hint of exhaustion taunting me. I couldn’t sleep.
Of course
I couldn’t sleep. There was a mystery at hand. I was here. I couldn’t simply sit idly by. I was Gabby St. Claire, after all. I could just poke around without really investigating. There was a difference. At least, I convinced myself that was true.

I climbed out of bed, just for a moment relishing the lush feel of the white coverlet underneath my fingers. The bedspread had probably cost more than my entire bed at home did. That did not deter me from wanting to jump up and down on it, however.

I crept out of my room, into the living area, and stood in front of Jackie’s door. The woman was missing. I had no business looking at her things.

But I was going to anyway.

I turned the doorknob. Slowly, the door swung outward, and her room came into view. The place was still a mess.

Did the person behind this intend for it to look like there was a struggle? Somehow, I just didn’t buy that. Everything was too strewn, as if it had been done on purpose. A couple of pictures on the wall had been broken. A bottle of perfume had been smashed. There wasn’t a clear path of destruction or point of ground zero. The mess was an equal opportunity offender.

Then there was the note.

I slowly walked into the room. I tried to be careful not to touch or move too much. You know, just in case the police ever did show up. The last thing I wanted them finding were my fingerprints.

Something on the nightstand caught my eye. Jackie’s phone.

Why would she go on a hike alone without a cell phone? Even if the signal was spotty, I’d still think she’d want to have it with her. I would.

I picked it up. The screen showed several missed calls. I’d bet the number that kept reappearing was Clint’s. Spontaneously, I slid the phone into my pocket. Someone needed to monitor the device, just in case someone of significance called. Until the police were pulled into this, that person would be me.

It was just out of consideration, I reminded myself. Because I was Gabby “Most Considerate Woman of the Year” St. Claire.

Yeah, right.

CHAPTER 5

Since I felt wide-awake, I went back to my room and threw on some jeans, a red sweatshirt, and flip-flops, and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.

I slipped my keycard into my pocket, grabbed my purse, and stepped into the hallway. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just knew I had to go somewhere. My brain was too active to sleep.

I bypassed the elevator again and took the stairs down to the first floor. One lone attendant stood behind the check-in counter. I moseyed up to her and plastered on my brightest smile.

“I was hoping you could help me,” I started. “I need to find out if someone other than me has been into my room today. Do you have that information?”

The woman, probably in her early twenties, nodded. Her sleek blond hair bobbed with the movement. “We do. Is everything okay?”

“Someone said they saw a man leaving my room. It was probably a member of your staff, but my work has a very high security clearance, so I want to make sure that’s correct.” I leaned closer. “I’d tell you what I do but then, you know, I’d have to … ”

The check-in clerk’s eyes widened, before she nodded quickly and began tapping away at the computer. “Of course, ma’am.”

Ma’am? It wasn’t every day I got called that.

“I need your name and ID and room number.”

I pulled out my driver’s license and slid it across the granite countertop toward her. As she typed, I marveled at the massive columns making up the inside of this room. The marble structures had to stretch at least four stories high. Twenty of my apartments could fit inside the entryway of this place alone—maybe more.

“It looks like a key assigned to a Jackie Harrington was used at 9:42, 1:12, 3:15, and 7:05 today. You also had maid service come at 12:30. It appears you used your key at 8:41. Does that help?”

I nodded. “Immensely. Thank you.”

Had whoever kidnapped Jackie taken her keycard and used it to break into the room? That was my best theory.

I started to wander the downstairs level. Past the grand entryway, there was a little café and marketplace, a huge dining room, rows of shops, and every other thing a person of means could imagine. And this was just in the East Wing. Apparently, the West Wing had a spa, swimming pool, bowling alley and movie theater.

I took another hallway, one that led away from the social hub of the hotel. Based on the signs I was seeing and the sheets of plastic, this area was under construction. That didn’t stop me from wandering deeper and deeper down the wing.

I stopped wandering when I spotted someone familiar in the distance.

Clint.

He was in the corner, whispering to a rough-looking man in dirty jeans and a flannel shirt. Another man was also there. He was painfully tall, and his back had a curve to it. He stood away from the other two men, seeming to observe them. The conversation looked rather heated.

What exactly was going on?

Who were those men? Definitely not people here with Riley’s group. Clint didn’t seem like the type who’d know other people who vacationed here. Just like I didn’t seem like that type.

I hoped that Clint wasn’t doing something foolish, something like trying to hire someone other than me to find Jackie. Or maybe Clint had called a brother or friend to come here and be with him in his time of need. Face it—the man probably didn’t relate to Riley’s friends, nor did they relate to him. And I wasn’t judging. I’d rather hang out with Clint.

As Clint turned, I stepped behind an ornate column that decorated a doorframe behind me. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want him to see me. The man deserved his privacy, especially in light of what had happened.

I looked up and saw a sign on the door that said library. I pushed it open and quietly slipped inside, just as Clint started down the hallway.

I stood there, my heart beating double-time in my ears. An unsettled feeling sloshed in my gut. I didn’t know what it was or why it was there. I’d have to figure that out later.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. The library is closed.”

I nearly screeched at the voice behind me. I twirled around, my hand over my heart. A maid stood there, duster in hand, and a perplexed look on her face.

The woman was probably in her mid-twenties with dark hair and a figure that neared the plump side. Her hair was curly and stretched halfway down her back.

She continued to stare at me as if I was crazy.

And she’d called me “ma’am.”

This was the second time tonight I’d been addressed that way. The first time I’d felt semi-honored. This time I felt old.

I pointed toward the door behind me. “I didn’t know. Sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem. I just have to get this cleaned. Including that wine stain on the carpet.” She pointed to a purple area beside a wingback chair and shook her head. “Some people. I’m not supposed to say that, so please forgive me. It’s not professional. But why would someone spill their wine and not clean it up? Don’t they know it stains?”

I leaned down by the mark. “No, people don’t care. In fact, I’m convinced that people are perfectly content to have other people clean up the disasters they’ve made.”

The maid nodded. “Me too! I just don’t get it. I’ve scrubbed at that stain for fifteen minutes. Now I’m just letting the solution soak in. I’m hoping that will do the trick.” Her accent had a hint of a mountain drawl that sounded charming and colorful.

“I know of a formula you can use. It will come right up. I use it all the time on—” I stopped mid-sentence. I almost said, “on blood at crime scenes.” Most people just didn’t know how to handle statements like that, though, so I kept it quiet. Maybe I was maturing after all.

“Do you own a cleaning company?”

I shrugged, not sure how to answer that question. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose.”

She chuckled and waved a finger in the air. “I knew you just couldn’t
work
for one. Otherwise, this place would be way out of your price range. I know firsthand. That would be like me actually being able to afford a weekend here. Not happening.”

I glanced around the ornate room and was again reminded that I was so out of my element. Mahogany wood, shiny and lemon-scented, stretched floor to ceiling. Brass fixtures and lamps. Furniture upholstered in the finest fabrics. Volumes upon volumes of astute looking hardbacks. “It is expensive here.”

“You’re telling me. I’ve never seen such hoity-toity people in my life.” She stopped and shook her head, fluttering her feather duster in the air. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve never spouted off like this to a guest before. Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

A look of worry crossed her face. “If the executive housekeeper finds out, she’ll fire me.”

I raised my hand. “Really, I find your honesty refreshing. I’m not reporting anyone.”

The maid put a hand over her heart. “Thank you. I think it’s just that I work this shift by myself. I mean, there are others working as well, but they’re all on different floors on different wings. Only four of us work the nightshift. It’s hard to vacuum when guests are sleeping and all, but we clean the spa and take linens to guests who need them in the middle of the night.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I don’t even ask. Anyway, I get so tired of being alone with my thoughts.”

I smiled. “I’m Gabby, by the way.”

“I’m Deanna.”

“You work here long?”

“Five years. They recruited people from all the counties around Healthy Springs to work here. It turned out my deadbeat boyfriend had just left me, and I was looking for a change. And some money. I’m from a coal-mining town, and all the jobs there dried up when they closed up the mines. Allendale Acres provides housing for its staff and a decent pay, so I grabbed up the job. I can’t complain.”

I shoved my hands into my jean pockets, not in a hurry. “I bet you get to meet some interesting people here.”

She raised her eyebrows and kept dusting. “You better believe it. We’ve had movie stars and politicians and everyone in between. We have a dignitary staying here now, for that matter.” She paused. “Of course, I wasn’t supposed to say that. Privacy and all.”

“I won’t tell.” The woman was seriously making me chuckle. On the inside. But a silent chuckle was still a chuckle. I raised a hand, as if taking an oath.

“Thank you. Again, I’m running off at the mouth. I probably wouldn’t have said anything, but I can’t get the man out of my mind. He’s so handsome.” Her hand went over her heart and a dreamy look filled her gaze. “And rich.”

“Does he speak English?”

Deanna burst into laughter. “Does he speak English? Of course. He’s from some country in the Middle East. Or was it Asia? I can’t remember. But he’s hot.”

“Dignitary just makes him sound so … foreign.”

Deanna laughed again, much louder than I expected. “You are so funny. I like you already. You’re different from a lot of people I meet here.”

I’d never been insulted at the thought of being different. In fact, I took it as a compliment. Why would I want to be like everyone else?

“Is he single?”

Deanna shrugged. “No idea.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

Her mouth gaped. “I could never do that, for more than one reason. Staff is not supposed to ask anything personal of the guests here.”

I leaned back onto the arm of an ornate couch and crossed my arms. “Is this a nice place to work?”

“They’re pretty good to their employees. I mean, Mr. Allen is kind of uptight and nitpicky, but I guess you’re supposed to be like that if you run a place like this. I’ve only seen him lose his cool one time, and that was because he saw a snake. I guess he’s kinda terrified of them. Besides, after you’ve been here a while, everyone starts to feel like family.” She sobered. “We were all heartbroken last week when we heard about Maurice. I felt like I’d lost a brother.”

“Maurice?”

“Oh, you must have just gotten here, otherwise you would have already heard. One of our bellhops died last week. It was so sad. He was one of the nicest guys. He was always cracking jokes and talking about all the places he wanted to visit. Top of list? Detroit. Who wants to visit Detroit?”

I pushed myself up straighter. “What happened to him?”

“It was just terrible. He went kayaking. His boat must have hit a rock and flipped over. The police found his body washed up in the river. It was so strange because he knew better than to go kayaking alone. Anyway, it won’t be the same without him around here.”

“I’m sure that’s hard.”

“He was the best fake person around here.”

“Fake person?”

She nodded. “Let’s face it. Most of us are from the mountains. Knowing how to act at a fancy resort like this doesn’t come natural. We have to take all of these classes on how to be proper and how to treat our guests, etc. You would think he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth the way he acted around here, all suave and gentleman-like.”

“And when he was away?”

“He tricked out his car, cussed like a sailor, and liked nothing better than to drink some moonshine.” She waved her hand in the air. “Listen to me. I’m sure you don’t want to know all of this.”

I leaned forward. “Deanna, I know this is a strange question, but do you know if this place has security cameras?”

She stopped dusting for long enough to snort. “You’re joking, right?”

Right … I nodded. “I mean,
of course
they have cameras. Every establishment like this does. But who monitors them?”

“Security, of course.” She picked up a stack of books and twirled her duster. Fine particles flew into the air.