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Reservation with Death: A Park Hotel Mystery (The Park Hotel Mysteries Book 1)

Page 3

by Diane Capri


  After a few frustrating clicks on the mouse, I figured out where the business contact list was stored, located June Biddle’s phone number, and called it. She answered almost immediately. I introduced myself, explained what I needed, and she agreed to provide it. Piece of cake. I’d completed my first assignment without a hitch.

  After a few more successful calls to various businesses, making sure everything was set for the weekend, I was feeling pretty good about myself. At least until the guests started showing up for the chamber of commerce meeting, demanding things that I had no clue about.

  The first wounding shot had come from the town mayor, Lindsey Hamilton.

  She marched up to the desk in a stylish pewter-blue pantsuit with a simple black scoop-neck top under it, which I loved and would’ve asked where she’d bought if she wasn’t blowing smoke out her nostrils like an angry bull. “The water in the pitchers in the conference rooms is tepid. The water should be cold.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry to hear that, and I’ll just call—”

  “Get it changed now. People are starting to arrive, and they’ll want cold water.”

  “Ma’am, if you—”

  Her eyes bugged out. “Ma’am? Do you not know who I am?”

  I didn’t. Not then. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but this is my first—”

  Ginny came rushing across the lobby. “Mayor Hamilton, how can I help?”

  “Oh, Virginia, thank God. I was just telling this…person about the problem in the conference room.”

  Ginny put her hand on the mayor’s shoulder. “I will fix whatever needs to be fixed. It’s my fault that Andi wasn’t prepped to handle any hiccups that might occur with the conference. That is completely on me.”

  Mayor Hamilton turned to glance at me, and I smiled at her. I could see she was stressed out.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  I shook my head and smiled. “No need to apologize, Mayor Hamilton. I’m brand spanking new to all of this, kinda winging it until I learn all the ropes. Thank you for understanding.”

  She returned my smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. Ginny gave me the thumbs-up behind her back. Then she ushered the mayor back to the conference rooms where Ginny would put out the fires with that fresh cold water.

  The rest of the morning and early afternoon I was swamped with directing all the business people to the conference rooms, organizing horse-drawn taxis, luggage storage, making restaurant reservations for groups of two and three and ten.

  Not only was it the chamber of commerce convention, but the first June weekend of the busy season. Tourists flocked to the island and the historic Park Hotel. Turned out, this was both the best and the worst weekend to make my debut as concierge. I enjoyed learning and being busy, and I was normally solid under huge amounts of stress. But handling the volume of guest demands gave new meaning to the phrase “under pressure.”

  At around two, there was a slight lull. Enough that I was able to run to the Lady Slipper Tea Room, which was on the main floor of the hotel, to grab a ham-and-swiss panini and a bottle of strawberry-infused Kombucha tea. I had to start eating better if I was going to survive this job.

  After paying for my food, I twisted the lid on the bottle, took a sip, and turned to head back to my desk. Which was when I literally ran into five-foot-ten of lean muscle mass in a cobalt-blue suit. The Kombucha spilled over the rim of the bottle and splashed over a pair of shiny black shoes. I looked down at the shoes then quickly up into a chiseled face with startling light-blue eyes.

  “Whoops,” was what came out of my mouth.

  He gave me a look that said, Are you kidding me? Then he reached for the napkins in the dispenser on the counter and crouched to wipe off his shoes.

  I cringed. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine. I was probably standing too close behind you.”

  “Yeah, I was wondering whose breath that was on my neck,” I said with a laugh.

  He didn’t share my attempt to lighten the mood, just continued to wipe at his still shiny shoes.

  I took my panini and scurried back to the concierge desk, thinking the day couldn’t get any worse. But of course, I was dead wrong on that count.

  Chapter 5

  The worst really started in the form of an obese man in a floral shirt, wet swim trunks, and flip-flops. He smelled like chlorine. His sweaty bald head was almost hypnotizing in the bright light streaming in through the big plate-glass windows. I had to concentrate on looking at his face.

  “I lost my wallet.”

  “Okay. Where did you see it last?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I smiled. “Did you have it this morning when you woke up?”

  “Yes. It was on the table.”

  “Here, in your room at the hotel?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, so did you check your room?”

  “Yup, and it wasn’t there.”

  “Did you go to the restaurant for breakfast? Did you have it with you then?”

  “Nope, we ordered room service.”

  “I see. Did you go out anywhere this morning?”

  He screwed up his face as he did some serious thinking. Before he could answer me, though, his wife and four kids came shrieking across the lobby. There was no other way of describing it. His kids were literally shrieking like the wraiths from Lord of the Rings.

  “Did you find it yet?” his wife demanded.

  He shook his head, and sweat drops landed on the desk. Luckily I’d moved my hands just in time. “This lady is trying to help me find it.”

  The woman gave me a look. “It doesn’t look like she’s trying very hard.”

  I wanted to slap her, honestly, but instead I ignored her and said to the man, “How about you write down your name here and your room number.” I set a piece of paper and a pen on the counter in front of him. “I’ll inform the cleaning staff and the front desk to be on the lookout for your wallet.”

  The woman sniffed and said loudly, “They’ll probably steal everything in it before handing it in.”

  Other guests had now turned to look at us. The last thing I needed was a complaint about me and how I mishandled things.

  “I assure you that I will go look for your wallet, personally.”

  The man wrote down his name, Herb Lowry, his room number, 306, and smiled at me. “Oh, you know, I remember now that I went for a swim this morning.”

  Then he went off with his wife nattering at him and his four kids pulling at his ugly floral shirt, trying to get his attention. Poor guy. I’d probably lose more than my wallet if I had to deal with that crew on a daily basis.

  When the lobby emptied after the dinner rush, I called the front desk and told Lane, one of the front desk clerks, that I was just stepping away for a few minutes. I headed for the pool. Most likely Herb had left his wallet on one of the lounge chairs before he went swimming and totally forgot about it.

  As I neared the end of the corridor, I noticed that a CLOSED FOR CLEANING sign was in front of the entrance to the pool area. Maintenance hadn’t informed the front desk or me that they’d be closing the pool, but maybe that wasn’t how things worked around here. I was still learning the ropes. I would ask about that later.

  I swiped my employee card and opened the door, nearly slipping on the water on the threshold. The dampness in the air hit me immediately. My mascara was probably going to run down my face. I lifted my arms to air out my armpits. My blouse would probably end up sticking to me by the time I did the rounds and got out of there. Thankfully, the pool was empty of swimmers, so I didn’t have to be concerned about getting splashed by errant chlorinated water. I didn’t want to smell like Herb for the rest of the night.

  Walking around the pool, I checked all the loungers—there were at least twenty—and then struck gold when I spotted something dark and square on the floor near the corner.

  Herb’s wallet was sitting all by itself near one of the planters. I wondered if someone had
found it, riffled through it, and then tossed it. I really hoped not. I didn’t want Mrs. Herb Lowry accusing me of stealing his money or credit cards. I opened the wallet just in case. Two hundred cash in the billfold and three credit cards in place. Maybe that was everything. I crossed my fingers. At least I’d found it. That was a win, right?

  Clutching the wallet like a first-place trophy, I turned to leave and nearly slipped again. There was a lot of water on the pool deck. Surprising, since the CLOSED sign meant the cleaning had already been done or was in process, although I didn’t see any staff or any equipment laid out for that job.

  I’d have to call the maintenance staff and get the water cleaned up. I expected some pool water on the surround. People sloshed around as they got in and out of the pool. But it just seemed excessive to me, especially this far from the pool’s edge.

  While looking down at the wet tiles, I spotted something dark along some of the grout. Looked like rust. I’d let Ginny know. Lois definitely wouldn’t approve. Someone should have a word with the cleaning staff to make sure that whatever it was got cleaned up before Lois found out about it.

  My gaze followed the trail of rust and water, and it led to the maintenance room. Maybe it was some kind of chemical leaking, which was not a good thing at all. I’d check things out before I reported to Ginny. We might need more than the cleaning crew down here. And the hotel certainly didn’t need the pool out of service for the busy weekend.

  I knew it was possible the door might be locked, but I gave it a try anyway. Nope, not locked.

  It was dark inside, and I fumbled along the wall near the door for the light switch. I flicked it, and ugly yellow fluorescent light flooded the small room.

  My gaze followed the line of rusty liquid along the floor, which appeared darker and redder the farther away from the pool it went.

  That’s when I spotted the source of the rusty liquid.

  Except it wasn’t rust.

  It was blood.

  And it was leaking from a body, pale and greasy, shoved into a utility closet between the mop and the water vacuum like just another pool accessory.

  Chapter 6

  It took a few minutes before I could breathe again and got my pounding heart under control. I sprang into action.

  After I made sure that he was actually dead—he was—I tamped down the bile rising in my throat and called Ginny, told her she needed to come to the pool ASAP. Before she could probe me further, I called Lois and advised her of the same thing. Lois must’ve called Eric, because all of three them rushed through the door around the same time.

  “What is going on?” Lois demanded.

  I pointed to the maintenance room. “There’s a dead body stuffed in the closet.”

  My voice, even to my ears, sounded level and cold, but inside I was vibrating with shock.

  All three of them frowned at me. Then Ginny let out a giggle. “She’s just having us on. Not the best time to be joking around, Andi.”

  I just looked at her. “I would never just joke around about something like that.”

  Her grin faded. “That’s true.”

  Lois and Eric went to peek into the room.

  “Oh good Lord,” Eric turned right back around, his face instantly pale. He bent over and took in some deep breaths. It looked like he was going to vomit.

  Lois just shook her head. “Henry’s not going to be happy about this.”

  “Daddy’s dead, Mom. I don’t think he’s going to care,” Ginny said, scowling.

  Lois waved her hand at her daughter. “Force of habit.”

  After that, there had been a lot of hand flapping and gasping by Ginny and Eric as I explained how I came across the body. Lois, on the other hand, was pretty stoic about the whole thing. She made sure the pool’s entry was locked, had a POOL IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED sign posted in the lobby, and informed the front reception staff of the situation. She calmed both her children and told them to plant their butts in chairs to wait for the sheriff, whom she called. I was impressed. Lois seemed unflappable.

  As for me, I’d seen a dead body before. I was there when my grandmother died, but it was peacefully in her bed surrounded by friends and hospice staff. Not like this. This was not peaceful, and it definitely wasn’t a natural death. The man had a nasty gash in his forehead. That’s where the blood came from. Someone had hit him with something heavy, and I knew the poor guy hadn’t stuffed himself into the utility closet. This was no accident. The man was obviously murdered.

  My hands were still shaking by the time Sheriff Luke Jackson joined Ginny, Lois, Eric, and me.

  While one deputy snapped pictures of the crime scene and the body, the sheriff asked me to go over the course of events that led to my grisly discovery. As I talked, my lawyer experience kicked in, and I made sure to give him an exact timeline. I knew how important it was. He made his notes and then asked me more questions.

  “Had you seen the deceased before?”

  “No. Not that I recall.”

  “And you were at the concierge desk the entire day?”

  “Yes, but it has been very busy today with the meetings and weekend arrivals. And it’s my first day on the job.”

  His brow furrowed as he tapped his pen against his notebook. I was pretty sure the sheriff was in his early forties—Ginny had mentioned it to me while we were waiting, as well as the fact that he was divorced and looking for a girlfriend. (I couldn’t believe Ginny was already trying to set me up with someone, especially now.) The lines on his face made me think he’d already had a pretty hard life. He had nice eyes, though, and a strong jaw. The right woman would come along for him. But that woman wasn’t me.

  Ginny told me this was the first murder they’d had since she’d been living at the Park Hotel. There was some famous unsolved one from decades ago, but that was it. Murder was not something that usually happened on Frontenac Island.

  The deputy, Marshall was his name, came up to the sheriff’s side. He handed him a black wallet. “Found it in his back pants pocket.”

  “Anything else on him?”

  The deputy shook his head.

  “Okay, go out front and wait for the coroner. He should be coming from the mainland.”

  “Shouldn’t he take pictures of the pool and the deck?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

  The sheriff raised an angry eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “The whole area is a crime scene, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he snapped. “Why?”

  “I mean, the murder weapon could be anywhere. Blunt force trauma to the head doesn’t just happen. There could be hair and fibers and fingerprints,” I said.

  “We’re aware,” he said sternly.

  “Also, he had to have a hotel key card on him or else he wouldn’t have been able to get in here. It’s locked to those who aren’t guests of the hotel or actual hotel staff.”

  “Good to know. Thank you,” he replied, but he sounded more angry than grateful.

  “Unless the killer let him in, then in that case, the killer would have a hotel key card.” My mind was spinning with details. So much to do.

  The deputy glanced at the sheriff, then back at me, his eyes wide and unsure.

  Sheriff Jackson narrowed his gaze at me, probably pissed off that I’d pointed out the obvious stuff he and the deputy should have known.

  “Take pictures of the entire area and then go wait for the coroner,” he finally said to the deputy.

  The deputy nodded.

  “Miss…” the sheriff glanced down at his notebook, “…Steele, I don’t know how things are done where you’re from—”

  “Most recently, California,” I interceded.

  “Uh-huh. But here, I’m in charge.”

  “Well—”

  Lois stepped up, putting a hand on my shoulder, effectively shutting me down. “Sheriff, whatever you need, you just ask. Everyone at the hotel is at your disposal.”

  He sucked on his teeth and glared at me. “Uh-huh.” He op
ened the wallet and fished out the dead man’s ID. “Thomas Banks. Name sound familiar?”

  “No, not offhand,” Lois said.

  I shook my head. “We can check—” There was that hand on my shoulder again.

  “I will make sure we examine the registry to see if he was a guest of the hotel,” Lois said.

  He nodded. “I’ll need to question the hotel staff.”

  “Of course,” Lois said.

  With a nod of his head to Lois, and definitely not to me, he moved over to speak with Ginny and Eric.

  Lois gave me a very boss-like look. “What are you doing?”

  “Cooperating with the police.”

  “You were trying to tell that man how to do his job.”

  “I’m a lawyer.”

  “Not anymore, you’re not, Andi. You’re the concierge at my hotel.”

  She didn’t need to add “at my discretion.” It was completely implied by her tone of voice. She knew that I knew she could easily take my job away. Sure, we had history, and she’d treated me like a daughter in the past, but I wasn’t her daughter. I was just a friend Ginny wanted to help out. I needed to be careful if I wanted to stay.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t get in the way of the sheriff’s investigation.”

  “Good.” She patted my shoulder, then softened. “Are you okay? I imagine it was quite a shock to find…” She waved her hand in the direction of the maintenance room where another young deputy was standing by the open door. His face was green.

  “I’m fine.”

  She looked me over then nodded. “Yeah, you were always made of stern stuff. Not like my Ginny.”

  We both glanced over at Ginny as she spoke to the sheriff. She was sniffling while tears ran down her cheeks. She’d always been sensitive. But I had to admit, I honestly loved that about her. She was just so free and easy with her emotions.

  So different from me.

  Eric once told me that I was one of the most guarded women he’d ever known. I knew when he said that he really meant “cold.” I was pretty sure I came by that honestly from my parents. My mother, in particular, was the iciest person ever to walk the earth. I swore she was solely responsible for the fact that seventy percent of the earth’s fresh water was frozen. She was the real Snow Queen.

 

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