Harriet followed Lana deeper into the kitchen, taking care to keep out of everyone’s way. A row of industrial dishwashers and several sinks big and deep enough to hold the extra-large pots and pans sat against one outside wall. Two walls held eight-burner gas stoves, stacked built-in ovens, and several charcoal grills.
Harriet was excited to see that the kitchen even sported an old-fashioned wood-fired oven in one corner. Wood-fired ovens were rare, found only in exclusive restaurants that could charge enough to cover the cost of the wood fuel. She should have guessed there’d be one at the resort.
Bradley had taken her to one of those restaurants during a business trip to New York City early on when they were still only dating. She had been suitably impressed and loved the pizza.
She spotted two pair of huge stainless doors on the fourth wall that she guessed must lead to the industrial chillers. Several chefs dressed in head chef whites stood before the stoves or barked out orders to the staff working at the prep tables.
A huge assortment of gleaming pots and pans in stainless and copper hung overhead. Wooden racks held knives and stainless holders were filled with more utensils than she even knew existed.
Harriet breathed in the scent of garlicky red sauce and the heady aroma of baking yeast breads. “They all look so busy,” she remarked.
“This is nothing. Wait until the resort officially opens and the guests arrive in full force. I hear we’re already booked solid for the next six months.”
Lana waved a dainty hand at the mostly empty stainless tables. “We’ll have triple the staff working in here by next week and it will be a madhouse with everyone yelling and pots clanging.”
Harriet looked at Lana and saw that she was smiling. “You love the intensity of a busy kitchen, don’t you?” she asked, understanding.
Lana’s smile grew and the green ponytail bobbed as she nodded enthusiastically. “I do. I really do. There’s something about all the activity and skill that appeals to me. The head chefs are like conductors leading an orchestra–everyone has their part to play and everything has to be timed and performed perfectly or it will fail and people will be disappointed.”
“What do you do here?”
“I order everything for the kitchens: food, equipment, the staples, the extras, even the uniforms. And I do the hiring of the kitchen staff. I’m also responsible for making sure the guest cottage Redi-Meals are stocked. The guests are sent a questionnaire when they book their visit so I’ll have their preferences before they arrive.”
“Wow. They do all that in this kitchen as well? That sounds like a logistical nightmare.”
Lana laughed. “The Redi-Meals are prepped in a separate, dedicated kitchen. Separating the Redi-Meals from the restaurant food prep makes it far easier to manage. We also have a third kitchen with its own staff and dining room for the resort’s employees. That reminds me, I’ll need your grocery-slash-meal requests by end of day Monday so I can add it to the other orders. Any later and your meal orders won’t get put into the system.”
“I’ll be sure to place my order before Monday so I don’t mess with your system,” Harriet said with a smile.
She narrowed her eyes at Lana as something occurred to her. “So, when you showed up at my office yesterday–you weren’t actually “sent” to check me out, were you? You came of your own accord. And you told me you were the liaison. You’re actually the kitchen manager.”
“Caught me.” Lana didn’t look the least bothered that Harriet had caught her lies.
“I really need to get back to my office,” she said with a smile. “The first guests are arriving in three days and I still have a lot to do. I’ll walk you out.”
“Was it hard for you to leave your family behind to take this job?” Harriet asked as they returned the way they had come.
The decision to commit two years of her life to working on a secluded tropical island had been an easy one for Harriet, but she suspected others were sacrificing their personal lives in order to work at the high-end resort.
Lana hesitated. “No,” she answered. “My siblings are scattered all over the planet and my parents are happily settled in the south of France. What about you? Did you leave family behind?”
Harriet shook her head. “Nope. It was an easy choice for me too.”
Back at the fountain, Harriet thanked Lana for the tour. She reached for the door but Lana stopped her.
“I heard Alex Hayes paid you a visit last night.”
Harriet blinked at the unexpected comment. Who was talking about her and why did anyone care what she did or who she spent time with? She hated, absolutely hated, being the subject of gossip.
“He came to question me about the dead man.”
Lana pursed her lips. “So what do think of our security director?”
Harriet shrugged. She did not want to discuss Alex Hayes with Lana any more than she wanted to talk with her about Bradley.
“He seems competent enough, I guess. I’ve had very little interaction with him. Why?”
Lana’s expression turned steely-eyed. With the green hair and eyes she reminded Harriet of an angry elf.
“Alex and I are an item. I thought you should know so you don’t get any ideas about going after him yourself. Keep in mind, when you live on an island everyone knows what you’re up to.”
Harriet looked more closely at the kitchen manager. “That sounded like a threat.”
“No.” Lana smiled again. “Not a threat. Consider it a friendly warning. Keep away from Alex.”
Harriet decided it was time to change the subject. “I think I’d like to do some ad campaigns featuring the kitchens. I’ll let you know when I have the details worked out so we can set it up. The food here will certainly be a draw for a certain type of resort client. Maybe we can even plan some special food-oriented weekend get-aways.”
“What a fun idea. I’ll talk to the head chefs and ask them for some themes. Now I really must get back to work. I’ll see you around.”
Harriet let herself out. Albion was still snoozing. She climbed into the golf cart and snatched the hat off his face.
“Let’s go.” She tossed the hat onto Albion’s skinny lap. What had Lana meant, she didn’t want Harriet to “get any ideas” about Alex? Did she look like a woman who went around trying to steal away other women’s lovers?
Somehow Harriet had assumed that such a beautiful place would not harbor the petty squabbling and jealousies that she saw elsewhere.
She felt sorely disappointed to learn otherwise.
Chapter Seven
“What’s eating you?” Instead of starting the cart, Albion stared at Harriet. He stuffed his hat under his seat, scratched at one dark wrinkled cheek and let his hand fall in his lap.
Apparently her unfriendly tour guide had no intention of doing as she asked.
Harriet glared at him. She’d only met three people on the island so far and two of them had turned out to be disappointing. The jury was still out on Alex Hayes.
“Nothing’s eating me,” she snapped. “I’m just ready to see more of the resort. Let’s go.”
Harriet knew her irritation was with Lana, not Albion. Ordinarily it would have bothered her that she was lashing out at Albion unfairly, but Albion hadn’t shown himself to be a friendly co-worker.
Two could play the unfriendly game. “Let’s go,” she said again.
Her two year contract was going to feel like a lifetime if Solly turned out to be the only friend she made on the resort.
But Albion still didn’t move. He continued to stare at her for another minute. Then he smiled, the first smile she’d seen from him, exposing strong white teeth. The smile lit his whole face and made him look like a different man altogether.
“Queen Lana show her claws? Ignore her. She power-hungry.”
He started the golf cart but didn’t put it in gear.
Harriet suddenly found herself smiling, her irritation gone. “Queen Lana?” she repeated.
“Oh yes. Lana just like tyrant queen. Need to know everybody’s business. Very bossy. Ignore her.”
Harriet’s smile widened. “All right, I will. Thank you, Albion.” She settled back into her seat. “So, where to next?”
“Your choice. Spa or guest cottages. We’ll hit a fork in the road in a minute.”
Harriet realized that Albion’s grammar had suddenly improved. She pointed a finger at him. “You’ve been putting me on,” she accused.
Albion’s smile lit up his face again. “I have to take my fun and giggles where I can find them. For all I knew, you were another Lana. I did you no harm.”
“No,” Harriet grumbled, “you did me no harm, although I have to admit I wondered how you ever got hired as a baggage clerk with all the personality you showed me.”
Albion chuckled and shot Harriet a sideways look. “Head baggage clerk. Mr. Wade hired me away from the Singapore Palace.”
Harriet looked at the small man beside her in amazement. The Singapore Palace was the most expensive hotel in the world. They boasted of–and delivered–only the best of everything, including hotel staff.
Harriet would have assumed that the Singapore was in Wade’s stable of hotels, but if he had to hire Albion away then obviously he didn’t own it.
“The Palace. I’m impressed. Is Albion your real name?”
“Yes.” He placed his right hand over his chest and turned toward Harriet, bowing his head slightly, his voice suddenly deep and sonorous. “Allow me to introduce myself, mademoiselle, I am Albion Aloysius Carter.”
Harriet laughed. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Carter.”
“Call me Albie, please,” he said in his normal voice. “All my friends do.”
Harriet’s day brightened again. Maybe the resort would work out after all. “All right, Albie, what do you suggest I see next?”
“I suggest we start with the nearest guest cottages, miss.”
“Nearest cottages? Are there more somewhere else?”
“Oh yes. There are four different groups of cottages on the west side of the island and another twelve cottages on the east side of the mountains. Those are for the guests who aren’t interested in the regular attractions and simply want to enjoy the island’s natural attractions like hiking in the mountains.
“We would need one of the resort’s all wheel-drive vehicles to get to the far cottages. The road is quite rough–purposely so, as it’s meant to be part of the experience for the guests–and it discourages the more regular guests from intruding on the east side guests.”
“Okay, then. Take me to see the nearest guest cottages.” Harriet settled back in the comfortable golf cart, prepared to enjoy her tour with the new Albie.
Queen Lana. The nickname made her giggle.
They had barely passed the kitchens when Alex roared up on his motorcycle and stopped them. He was dressed in another snug, resort blue polo shirt and tan khakis but instead of being tied back, his black hair curled loosely over his shirt collar.
In the sunshine Harriet could see that the blue shirt made the blue of the security director’s eyes seem even more intense as his gaze locked on her. She felt her pulse flutter in response.
“Good morning Albie. I wonder if I could have a quick word with you, Miss Monroe?”
Lana’s warning echoed clearly in Harriet’s brain. “Hands off, bitch, this man belongs to me” had been her not-so-subtle message, but Solly had told her that Alex wasn’t dating anyone, and she trusted Solly to know. Her friend always managed to pick up any gossip, no matter the situation.
“Of course.” Harriet smiled. “What can I do for you?”
“I have the names of everyone who was on the island when Bradley Higgins was murdered. I’d like you to take a look at the list since you knew the deceased and see if any of the names look familiar.”
Harriet frowned. “Do you think he was meeting someone here?”
“Possibly. Now that I know you were living together I’m operating on the theory that he came to the resort looking for you. But he came over in the shuttle before yours–I checked the passenger list. Unlike you he traveled here under his own name.”
Harriet blushed. The only reason she had used a false name had been to fool Bradley. Obviously that hadn’t worked and now she felt a bit foolish over the amateur cloak and dagger act.
“But if he came here to find me that would mean he knew I was coming here before I left him.” If Bradley had known about her new job that meant that he had gained access to her personal computer.
How long had he been invading her privacy and checking up on her? She felt a surge of anger–at Bradley and at herself for being so stupid. Why had she waited so long to leave the control freak?
“Yes, it does.” Alex’s gaze was steady
“Yes, what does?” Harriet couldn’t remember what she had last asked. Her mind was reeling from just how far Bradley had gone to keep control over her. What an idiot she’d been.
“Yes, he must have known you were coming to the island,” Alex said patiently. “He either planned to confront you here or he was meeting someone else here. That’s why I want you to look at the list of names.”
“Fine. Tell me when and where and I’ll meet you.”
“Come to my office in an hour. Albie will show you where it is.”
Albie patted Harriet’s knee. “Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll check out the guest cottages and then I’ll deliver you to Alex’s office. We can see the attractions another time.”
“Thanks, Albie. Is that all, Mr. Hayes?”
“For now.” Alex roared off.
Harriet turned in her seat to look after him and saw Lana’s figure standing outside the kitchens staring at her. Great, just what she needed. Lana must have heard the motorcycle and stepped out to catch Alex, but he had driven right past her.
Lana had no way of knowing that Alex had only stopped Harriet because he had a question about the murder.
Harriet sighed. She hoped she hadn’t made an enemy of the possessive Lana. She seemed to wield a lot of power on the resort.
She almost asked Albie to turn around so she could explain to Lana why Alex had stopped to speak with her but decided against it. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the jealous queen.
She turned forward and pointed.
“Let’s go see the guest cottages.”
“As you wish.” Albie glanced back to see what had upset his passenger just as Lana stalked back into the kitchens with her hands fisted at her sides.
Despite a feeling of unease, Albion kept his expression smooth and pleasant. He had decades of practice schooling his features. In his business it was important not to give away how he really felt about the obnoxious guests he often had to deal with.
Over his career he had learned to be a good judge of character–anybody who wanted to be successful working with hotel guests had to be if they wanted to survive–and his gut told him that Harriet Monroe was a sincere, warm and caring person. It would be a real shame if Lana drove her off.
He made a silent vow to do what he could to make sure that didn’t happen.
Chapter Eight
Harriet gave herself up to the island’s beauty as Albion followed the crushed shell road. The day was too perfect to let Lana’s unfounded jealousy ruin it, she decided. She had her dream job and a beautiful cottage on a tropical island. She would find a way to deal with Lana.
Albion veered along the first left-hand fork to a wide cove and stopped the jeep.
“Kidd’s Cove,” he informed her as he parked the cart.
Harriet climbed out of the cart and sighed with pleasure. The island’s three mountains, covered with green and lush forests of tropical plants, provided a soothing backdrop for the guest cottages strung out along the white sand beach that lined the wide cove.
Green mountains. White sand. Turquoise blue water. Harriet had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. The dark rocks of the Maine coast offered few beaches and the Nor
th Atlantic was often either a cold, steely gray or a cold deep, deep blue. While it had its own beauty, it lacked the inviting aura of the island.
The cottages ranged in size from the smallest–the same size and configuration as her own–to the largest ones offering four bedrooms.
Albie explained that the larger cottages were limited to eight guests at the most. If a big family group needed more beds they had to rent more cottages.
Jan Rhymes, the resort’s designer, had spoken with Harriet about Mr. Ward’s desire to limit the number and size of the guest cottages to make them fit in with the landscape and not be intrusive. It was one of the selling points Harriet intended to play up in her ads for the resort.
Seeing the cottages in person, she thought Jan had succeeded admirably. The single-story cottages were well spaced and their surrounding areas planted to create real privacy for the guests.
A soft warm breeze freshened off the water and kept the bugs away as they walked the beach path and explored each empty cottage. No two cottages were exactly alike. Each one had its own personality and decorating focus, with a name plaque over the door, similar to her own Mermaid.
Small waves lapped gently at their feet as they walked the beach, disappearing into the sand with a soft sizzle. Bird song came from the vegetation around the cottages and Harriet caught an occasional glimpse of the brightly plumed singers as they searched the foliage for insects to eat.
When they reached the farthest cottage in the cove she took a deep breath of the salt air. “Mmmm, what’s that scent? I didn’t smell it at the other cottages.”
“Must be those.” Albie pointed to a profusion of pink trumpet-shaped flowers climbing over the side of the last cottage.
This cottage had a slightly different look to it from the others. Harriet studied it for a few moments before realizing that it looked settled into the spot, not new like the ones they’d just toured. It was also set farther apart from the other cottages.
Stalked in Paradise Page 5
