Lavender Lipstick Lies: A Mystery of Makeup & Mayhem (8 page)

Chapter 19

After talking to Trevor Cole in the
spa, I’d decided that I was no longer in the mood for a massage. How could I
even begin to think about relaxing after another disturbing message from my
mysterious stalker? I’d suggested that Emma stay and enjoy her appointment, but
she simply apologized to the receptionist, grabbed my hand and announced that
we were returning to our suite to find another way to unwind. “A glass of
wine,” she’d mentioned. “And then a power nap sound pretty perfect to me!”

As we stepped out of the spa
elevator and walked into the hotel lobby, I felt Emma’s elbow in my side. “Is
that Bree?” she whispered, pointing toward the far side of the area.

I stopped and focused on the swarm
of guests in the distance. The first thing I saw caused my eyes to widen. It
was someone wearing the red floppy hat and floral caftan that I’d seen in our
suite. They had their back to us, but they were definitely talking to Bree.

“Yes, that’s her,” I said quickly.
“But who’s she with?”

Emma frowned. “I can’t tell from
here. Do you want to get closer so we can get a better view?”

I grabbed her arm and tugged in the
opposite direction. “No, I’ve seen enough.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,”
Emma said. “Because Bree just went out the front door.”

I turned and looked back across the
lobby. The woman in the red hat and caftan was now standing by the front desk.

“Ah, that’s probably nothing,” Emma
said. “Maybe she’s checking on her bill or—”

“That’s him!” I blurted.

Emma smirked. “Who?”

I waved my arm at the woman in the
caftan. She was now talking to the same front desk clerk that brought me the
threatening message by the pool.

“The guy!” I said. “That delivered
the anonymous note the other day!”

“So?” Emma shrugged. “That’s his
job, isn’t it? To help hotel guests? It’s probably something totally innocent.”

“But I saw her give him an envelope
just now,” I said emphatically. “It could be another threatening note for me.”

Emma laughed. “Okay, please don’t
take this the wrong way,” she said sweetly. “But I think maybe you’re a little
amped up, Abby. Let’s have a cocktail before we go up to the suite.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need a
drink. And I’m not amped up or whatever you just said. I’m being perfectly
rational. And I know what I saw—the woman in the hat gave an envelope to the
front desk guy.”

“Yeah, okay,” Emma told me. “I’m
not saying that I don’t believe you. I’m just saying that it could be something
totally harmless and not at all related to the weird messages you’ve been
receiving.”

“Like what?” I demanded. “What
could she possibly give that guy except another threatening anonymous note?”

Emma stepped closer and put her arm
around my shoulders. “Ah, sweetie,” she cooed softly. “You really are getting
yourself tied up in knots over this stuff.” She pulled me closer and put her
head against mine. “It’s not worth it, okay? Some mean girl is pulling a grade
school prank. That’s all it is. And, anyway, that hot hotel security guy promised
to keep an eye on us.”

I looked around the jammed lobby.
“In this crazy mess?” I groaned. “How could he possibly do that?”

Emma pointed toward the ceiling
three floors above. “Do you see all those ornate decorations up there?”

I nodded.

“Well,” she continued, “those are
CCTV cameras disguised as architectural embellishments. Places like this have a
million hidden surveillance cameras. Think of it as nanny cams on steroids,
okay? Except for places like the bathrooms and changing rooms in the spa, every
square inch is being filmed around the clock.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “She’s
right over there now! I don’t want to wait until Trevor Cole can rewind the
surveillance tapes or try to read her lips on the footage.”

Emma muttered something under her
breath. Then she told me to stay put while she walked over to see if she could
identify the woman in the caftan.

“I’ll just come with you,” I said.
“What are they going to do in a crowded public place—sneer and call me names?”

As we navigated our way through the
crowded lobby, I kept my eyes on the front desk clerk. It seemed that he was
deep in conversation with the woman in the red floppy hat.

“Well, they
do
look pretty
cozy,” Emma said as we moved around a cluster of teenagers and their luggage.
“Maybe he
is
in on the scheme.”

I shifted to the right, moving at a
slight angle to try and get a peek at the woman’s face. When I was directly
beside her, she started to turn in our direction so I quickly spun around and
pretended to be admiring the intricate mosaic tile on the lobby floor.

“What are you doing?” Emma
whispered.

“Trying not to be so obvious,” I
said. “Let me know when she—”

But before I could finish my
request, I felt a cold hand slide around my arm.

“Abby?” a woman said. “Is that
you?”

When I turned and looked, I was
inches from Amanda Woodworth’s face.

And her red floppy hat.

“It’s Amanda Woodworth,” she said
brightly. “Bree introduced us the other day.”

“Of course!” I smiled with as much
enthusiasm as I could muster. “How are you?”

“Peachy,” she said. “It’s a
lyrically luscious day!”

I’d never liked the Splendora
tagline, so I didn’t say anything. I was trying to decide if I should grill her
about what she was doing with the front desk clerk when Emma jumped in.

“You are
so
right, Amanda.”
She put out her hand. “I’m Emma. Bree introduced us when you were having lunch
at Café Avalon.”

Amanda shook Emma’s hand with
another overeager smile. “Oh, sure,” she replied. “And Bree’s told me all about
both of you.” Her smile faded into a lifeless smirk. “But don’t worry. I
promise not to repeat the naughty bits.”

The laugh that followed was too
loud and too obviously forced. I fought the urge to give her a quick, sharp
slap to bring her back to reality, but figured it wasn’t worth whatever trouble
it might get me into with the Splendora Board of Directors or the local police.

“Okay, then,” Emma said, taking my
hand. “We were just on our way to an appointment.”

Amanda’s eyes flashed. “Oh, in the
spa?”

I gulped, but kept quiet.

“Yes!” Emma lied. “We’re running
late. We haven’t even been down there yet.”

Amanda told us to have a good
afternoon and promised to look for us later.

“I certainly hope not,” Emma hissed
under her breath as soon as we were far enough away. “That snake is up to no
good, Abs!”

“I know,” I replied. “No good
involving anonymous threats and a plot to force me out of the Achiever competition.”

“I think we should find Trevor Cole
right away,” Emma said. “He needs to know about Amanda.”

I nodded. “Can we go up to the
suite first?” I suggested. “I’ll call him once I’ve had a few minutes to catch
my breath.”

Chapter 20

A half hour later, after talking to
Trevor on the phone and trying to decide on my outfit for that evening’s
banquet, someone knocked on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Emma announced.

“Thanks, Em!” Bree called from her
room. She’d just returned a moment earlier from whatever errand she’d run
earlier when we saw her in the lobby.

“It’s probably housekeeping,” Emma
said. “I asked for more towels and bath salts.”

I went back to comparing my blue
sleeveless dress to an eggshell sweater and matching slacks when Emma appeared
in the door to my room.

“Uh, Abby?” Her brow was furrowed
and she appeared visibly nervous. “Can you come out here for a sec?”

“Yeah, sure.” I put the blue dress
on the bed. “What is it?”

She made a fluttering wave with one
hand. “Just come out here, okay?”

I followed her down the short
corridor into the main living area of our suite. When I saw the two women
standing just inside the door, I felt my stomach drop to my feet. I recognized
them instantly: Felicia Gold, founder and chief executive officer of Splendora;
and her director of public relations, a woman named Gillian Smart.

“Ms. Edison?” Felicia Gold turned
and beamed a bright smile. “Do you have a moment?”

I swallowed hard. “Uh-huh,” I
muttered anxiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, we were hoping you could
help shed light on something for us,” Gillian Smart said in an icy tone. “Do
you mind if we all sit down?”

Emma moved around and stood near
the windows. She waited while Felicia and Gillian crossed the room and settled
into the two armchairs facing one of the sofas. As soon as they were seated, I
forced my legs to carry me over so I could sit across from the two women. I
concentrated on trying to relax, but there was something about the way they
were looking at me that caused my heartbeat to quicken and a million goose
bumps to speckle the back of my neck.

“What’s this about?” I asked.

Gillian Smart unlatched the
briefcase she was carrying. Her slender fingers reached inside and came out
with an envelope. My eyes bulged when I noticed that it was addressed to
Felicia Gold in childish letters printed in Lyrically Luscious Lavender
lipstick.

“Where did you get that?” I
blurted.

Felicia Gold glanced at the other woman.
“Gillian,” she said. “Why don’t you tell Ms. Edison about the letter?”

“Certainly, Felicia,” answered the
public relations maven before looking up at me. “This rather unusual message
was slipped under the door to Felicia’s suite just a few minutes ago. As soon
as she discovered what was inside, she alerted me so I could help manage the
situation.”

“What situation?” I asked.

“The note includes some rather
incendiary allegations,” Gillian Smart explained. “And, unfortunately, the
allegations are about you, Abby.” She pressed her lips into a tight smile. “Is
it okay if I call you by your first name?”

“Of course,” I said mechanically.
“But I don’t…” I felt my heart slamming wildly in my chest. “What does it say?”
I asked. “What are the allegations?”

A faint frown appeared on Gillian’s
face. “I don’t think we need to—”

“No!” I demanded. “If they’re about
me, I have every right to know.”

Felicia Gold sat forward in her
chair. “They’re scurrilous claims, Abby. About you. About your husband. And
about your marriage.” She paused long enough to give Gillian a quick glance. “They’re
also about your suitability to be included as a candidate for our Achiever of
the Year Award.”

Emma walked over and sat beside me.
“It’s okay, Abby. Take a deep breath.”

“May I see the envelope?” I asked.

Gillian Smart’s mouth twitched.
“Are you sure you want to?” she replied. “It has very unflattering things to
say.”

I held out my hand. “Yes, I’m sure.
And I have every right to.”

“Go on, Gillian,” Felicia said.
“She’s absolutely correct.”

My hands were trembling as I took
the note. I examined the lettering on the front; it was identical to the
envelope I’d received by the pool shortly after we arrived at the hotel.

“Do you want me to?” Emma offered.

I shook my head. “No, that’s okay.
I’ll do it.”

I removed a sheet of paper from the
envelope and felt a knife twist in my back as I read the message:

Abby
Edison
is a
cheat & a fake & a liar! She is having an affair. Her husband is having
an affair. Their marriage is a sham. Is that the kind of person you want as
global ambassador for Splendora?

I gulped in some air as I put the
sheet of paper back into the envelope. Then I dropped it on the coffee table.

“I know who’s doing this,” I said
calmly. “At least, I’m pretty certain that I do.”

“How could you?” Gillian asked
coldly. “The note isn’t signed.”

I felt my cheeks flare with fury.
“It’s Amanda Woodworth!” I shouted. “She’s trying to get me to step down so she
can move up to the top three rankings!”

“That’s a rather sharp claim,”
Felicia said slowly. “And we should let you know that there was something else
in the envelope when it was delivered to my room.”

Emma gasped softly and took my hand.
“What was it?”

“A photograph,” answered Felicia.
“It was a picture of a man greeting a very pretty blonde woman at the front
door of a house.”

I felt Emma’s grip tighten.

“The information on the back
identified the man as your husband, Abby,” added Felicia.

My body felt suddenly like ice as I
struggled to maintain my composure. “Do you have it with you?” I asked.

Gillian Smart nodded and pulled
something from her briefcase. It was a full-size sheet of paper with an image
printed squarely in the middle. She carefully placed the photograph on the
coffee table. I glanced down and shuddered; Robert was at the front door of our
house talking with the curvy blonde who had been in our living room the morning
I left for Las Vegas.

“Is that your husband, Abby?”
Gillian asked.

I nodded. “Yes, but I can explain,”
I said in a quivering whisper. “That woman is somehow involved in the scheme to
get me to withdraw from Achiever of the Year.”

Felicia Gold sat back in her chair.
“Who is she?”

I shrugged. “Well, I don’t know for
certain,” I answered. “But the car she was driving is registered to someone
named Kimberly Woodworth. I haven’t had a chance to find out yet if she’s
related to Amanda or not, but I suspect she is.”

Gillian laughed. “Isn’t this all
getting a little out of hand?” she said. “You
suspect
she is? Did you
bother to ask your husband?”

The haughty tone in the woman’s
voice was obvious; she didn’t believe me. I checked Felicia Gold’s expression;
it was much more even, as if she was reserving judgment on what I had to tell
them.

“I
did
talk to my husband,”
I said. “He’d never seen that woman before she suddenly showed up at our house
the other day.”

“Or that’s what he
wants
you
to believe,” Gillian nearly hissed.

I heaved a sigh and narrowed my
gaze. “Look, Miss Smart,” I said firmly. “You and I have never met before, but
I’m telling you the truth. My husband isn’t having an affair. And neither am I.
Our marriage is fine. For some random reason, Amanda Woodworth is targeting me
to try and scare me into withdrawing from the—”

“Yes, yes,” Gillian interrupted.
“You’ve already told us all of that. But what I think we’re really trying to—”

“Gillian?” Felicia Gold’s voice was
regal and commanding.

The other woman blinked. “Yes,
Felicia?”

“Why don’t you go downstairs and
take care of the rest of the media requests?” Felicia gave her a firm nod
toward the door. “I think I can handle this from here.”