RESORT TO MURDER (9 page)

"Eric, before my lesson I heard Rob sounding
pretty mad at someone. Was that you, by any chance?"

He looked down at her, his grin now reduced
to a smirk, then took out his toothpick and studied it. Whether he
was planning to answer her or not Maggie never found out because
suddenly Dyna's voice came sailing down the path from around a
bend.

"Maggie! Maggie, wait!"

"See you later," he said, then stepped off
the path and disappeared into the trees.

"Maggie! There you are!” Dyna came to a
stumbling halt as she caught sight of her friend. Her face was
flushed and her hair flew out in several directions.

"Dyna! Where were you?"

"I got locked in!"

"Locked in where?"

"The rest room.” Dyna put
her hands on her knees and took several deep breaths. Then she
flipped her hair out of her face and continued. "I saw those kids
going with their mother for a lesson with Rob, so I knew you'd be
okay for a while. I really
had
to go - all that water I drank 'cause it was so
hot - so I ran over to the sports center and figured I'd be back
before you were ready to leave."

"Well you weren't. I thought you’d left
without me."

"Maggie, I wouldn't do that!” Dyna looked so
hurt that Maggie immediately regretted her angry tone.

"I'm sorry. I'm just jittery because of that
creep.” Maggie looked in the direction Eric had gone, but there was
no sign of him.

"What creep? Who was here? Were you in
trouble?"

Maggie told her about Eric, downplaying the
fear she had felt at first and relating what he had told her about
Rob.

"Oh my gosh. That sounds pretty bad. Is it
true?"

"I don't know yet.
Rob
was
evasive
when I asked him about Wimbledon. But this Eric doesn't strike me
as a sterling source of information. Maybe I can check it out.”
Maggie looked over at her friend. "But what about you? What did you
mean about being locked in the rest room?"

"Maggie, it was weird.” Dyna ran her fingers
through her already wild hair. "I went into the sports shop to use
the ladies' room, like I said. The door was kinda hard to pull
open, like it was warped or something, you know? Anyway, I know I
didn't pull it closed real tight, 'cause it wasn't a one-person
rest room, but had stalls, so I didn't have to lock it or anything.
So I'm sure I just pulled it closed enough to stay shut.

"Well, when I was drying my hands with one
of those air driers, I thought I heard a something, but I wasn't
sure 'cause those things make such a noise right in your face, you
know, blowing all that air. And when I tried to leave, I couldn't
open the door! It was jammed shut, and I couldn't push it
open!"

Maggie wasn't sure if she wanted to gasp or
laugh from the picture Dyna was drawing her, but she asked, "How
did you finally get out?"

"Well, after pushing and kicking at it and
getting nowhere, I started hollering. Finally, these two guys
walked into the shop to get a court, I guess, and heard me. They
managed to pull the door open. Talk about embarrassing!"

"So it wasn't actually locked, then?"

"No, but just as good as."

"And you're sure you didn't pull it tight
yourself?"

"Maggie, there was no way I could have done
that. Honest. Besides, I was in a hurry, remember?"

Maggie smiled. "I know. I'm just trying to
eliminate all other possibilities."

"All other possibilities except what?"

"That our friend Eric made sure you were, as
he said, `held up'."

"But why? Why would he do such a thing? It
seems such an adolescent kind of thing to do."

"Well, he didn't strike me as a model of
maturity, but he might have wanted to make sure I was alone."

"Maggie!” Dyna looked at her, her eyes
wide.

"To find me alone to talk to me, since
that's what he did. But then, maybe he didn't think you'd be along
so quickly. Maybe," Maggie looked in the direction Eric had
disappeared in the woods and rubbed at the goose bumps that had
formed on her arm, "just maybe he had other plans too."

Maggie and Dyna walked out of the woods,
Dyna keeping up a steady stream of questions that Maggie couldn't
answer but which she knew must be coming from Dyna's store of
nervous energy. Maggie still felt on edge herself.

As they walked across the expanse of lawn
and came closer to the hotel, Maggie caught sight of a man dressed
in the same kind of work uniform Eric had been. He was pruning a
row of hedges. Maggie veered towards him and shushed Dyna's chatter
with a raised hand.

"Just a sec'. I want to ask this man
something."

The workman looked over at their approach and
nodded, but continued pruning.

"Excuse me," Maggie said as she came
closer.

He lowered his shears and ran a hand through
his thinning hair. He was tall and sinewy, probably in his forties,
and he smiled a patient, polite smile.

"Yes, ma'm?"

"I just ran into a man near the tennis
courts, about my age, dressed in a Highview uniform like yours with
the name `Eric' stitched on the pocket. Do you happen to know
him?"

"Was he chewin' on a toothpick?"

"Yes!"

"Then it's Eric Semple. He
was s'posed to be doing the job I'm doing right now. So
that's
where he
was."

The thick eyebrows on the man bunched
together in an angry scowl. Maggie saw the name on his pocket was
`Jack'.

"Was there any problem?" he asked.

"No, not really. It's just that running into
anyone in those woods now can be unnerving. I wanted to make sure
he really worked here."

"Well, he's been
hired
. Whether he
actually
works
is
something else. If management would let me hire my own workers I
could get a damn sight more done around here. Well, anyway, yes
Eric is employed here, but Miss, I'd keep my distance from him if I
were you."

"Why is that?"

"Just keep your distance, that's all. Now,
excuse me, I've got work to do.” Jack picked up his pruning shears
and walked away from Maggie and Dyna. He called out orders to
another worker who was spreading mulch around newly planted shrubs.
"Put it on a couple inches thicker, Cal.” Then he turned behind a
clump of tall Rhododendrons and disappeared.

Maggie and Dyna looked at each other.

"Well there go my plans for dinner and
dancing tonight," Maggie deadpanned.

Dyna's jaw started to drop but then she
grinned. "Jack sure has a low opinion of Eric, doesn't he?"

"Yes, which confirms my own impression.
Let's get back to our rooms. Creep though he may be, we still don't
know if Eric made up that whole story about Rob. If I can reach a
certain person on the phone, I might be able to find out."

Back in her room Maggie took a quick shower,
then placed a call to her friend Elizabeth Drury. Liz ran the
school library at McHenry, and Maggie hoped she wouldn't mind doing
a little research for her.

"Love to, Maggie," Liz sang out in her loud,
non-librarian voice. "Here I thought all I'd be doing all summer is
sending out overdue notices to the book thieves of McHenry High.
You've made my day. Want to tell me what it's all about?"

"Can you wait on that, Liz? It might be
important, or I might just be poking into someone's private
business. I don't know, yet."

"Oooh, how mysterious. Maggie Olenski,
private eye. Well, give me those names and dates and I'll see what
I can come up with."

"Thanks a million, Liz. Next time you need
figures checked for your budget report, I'm your woman.” She gave
Liz the pertinent information, and hung up, crossing her fingers
that the librarian would have good luck.

She was still looking at the phone
thoughtfully when she heard a soft knock on her door. Maggie walked
over, but instead of immediately opening the door as she normally
would have, she peeked cautiously through the peep hole. It was
Holly, the waitress she had talked with at the bar. Maggie lifted
the chain and let her in.

"Hi. I saw you come back. I've been waiting
to give you something.” Holly held out a slim, black, hard covered
book, about six by ten inches. She seemed uneasy.

"What is it?” Maggie asked, taking it from
her.

"It's Lori's. She used to write in it once
in a while, when things were slow. I found it in the kitchen, mixed
in with some trays. She must have put it there in a hurry one time,
and it got shoved back.” Holly put a fingernail to her teeth and
began to nibble.

"Holly, you should give this to the sheriff.
This could be very important."

"I know. But, I thought
maybe you could give it to him? You seem kinda involved in this,
what with knowing Lori and finding her body and all. I mean,
you
care
about
her, so you'll see something is done about this. That's why I'm not
just passing it on to someone here. And I could give to the
sheriff, but..." Holly looked at her with a crooked smile, "well,
I'd just as soon keep my distance, if you know what I mean. There
was something, well, it was years ago and it was just stupid
trouble kids get into, you know, but still...."

"Well, sure, then. I'll take it to him."

"Thanks.” Holly looked relieved and turned
to leave.

"Can you stay a minute? There's a couple
things I'd like to ask you."

Holly looked at her watch and shrugged. I've
got some time I guess before old Crawford sends someone looking for
me."

"Good. I was wondering how long Rob has been
here at the hotel. Do you know?"

"Working here? Jeez, let me see. I've been
here two years. He was here when I came, and I think he had started
about three months before that. Yeah, I remember someone telling me
he came in March for the spring season."

"And that girl you told me about? She died
when?"

"September, that year."

"So Rob would have known her?"

"Yeah.” Holly looked at her curiously.
"Why?"

"Do you think he knew her well? I'm
wondering if there could have been any connection between Rob and
this girl's death."

"Ohmigosh! Rob? No, there couldn't have been
any connection. She was going with some other guy. Remember, I said
she was going to get married?” Holly frowned. "But now that I think
of it...."

"Yes? What?"

"Well, it's not that much of a connection,
but she did play tennis once in a while. She might have taken
lessons – I don't know for sure. But they said she died from an
overdose of pills. She wouldn't have done that over a bad
serve!"

"Of course not. But you said you didn't
believe she killed herself, didn't you? If not, someone else
did."

"You think Rob did?"

"I don't think anything yet. I'm just asking
questions. And please don't mention this to anyone, okay? I don't
want to start rumors."

"Yeah, sure. But how about I ask around a
little, see if anyone else knows if Rob had much to do with
her?"

"That'd be great, but do it as quietly as
you can. Oh, one other thing," Maggie put her hand on the younger
woman's arm as she turned towards the door. "I met someone on the
grounds today who works here. His name is Eric. Do you know
him?"

"Eric Semple? Dark hair, not bad looking,
about this tall?” Holly held her hand several inches above her
head.

Maggie nodded.

"Sure, I know him. Works
in maintenance.” Holly glanced at her watch and opened Maggie's
door, looking out carefully in both directions. "He's okay.” She
stepped out, then grinned. "Kind of a goof-off. He got his job
here, of course, because he's
her
son."

"Her? Who do you mean?"

"Burnelle. You know. I saw her come up here.
The housekeeping supervisor who brought your dinner that first
night.” Holly lifted her hand in farewell, grinned, and scurried
down the hall.

***

CHAPTER 12

Maggie stood and stared
down the hallway after Holly, then closed the door. Eric Semple,
that smirky, toothpick-chewer who trapped women in rest rooms, was
related to Burnelle, the friendly, conscientious housekeeper who
disapproved of young ladies touching alcohol? And not just related,
but her
son
?
Maggie's mind grappled with the concept.

Her immediate reaction was a feeling of
sympathy for the woman. She was obviously hard-working and
self-disciplined. Apparently Burnelle had been instrumental in
getting Eric his job here. That might be what the gardener, Jack,
referred to when he complained about his lack of control in hiring
helpers.

Maggie wondered how many other jobs Eric
might have gone through before coming to work at the same place as
his mother. The two just didn't fit together. It was like trying to
imagine Clara Barton as having raised Billy the Kid.

Maggie's thoughts turned to her own mother,
of their own relationship. Who would someone compare them to? They
were certainly two very different people, from different worlds,
who sometimes spoke the same words that often came out with
opposite meanings. Human offspring obviously were not clones of
their parents. At least, not yet.

Maggie shook her head, then remembered the
book Holly had brought, and which she still held in her hands. She
knew that legally she should immediately turn it over to the
authorities. But there might be much she could learn from it.
Surely it wouldn't matter waiting a few hours? Having rationalized
the situation to her satisfaction, Maggie opened the book up and
started to read, walking over and sinking slowly into the soft
chair near the window of her room.