Room with a Clue: A Park Hotel Mystery (The Park Hotel Mysteries Book 3)

by Diane Capri

  He parked the cart at the hotel and walked me to my suite. When we got to the door, I turned to face him. “Thank you. I’m sorry the evening didn’t turn out as we planned.”

  “It’s okay. There will be other balls to dance at.” He smiled, and I felt my knees go wobbly.

  “I hope so,” I said in a husky voice.

  He walked me back a little so I was pressed against the wall, then leaned in, touching my cheek with his fingers, and covered my mouth with his. The kiss deepened into something a little bit wild and dangerous. When he pulled back to look into my eyes, I was breathless.

  “Goodnight, Andi.”

  “Goodnight,” I rasped softly.

  He turned to go and then stopped. “Do you want to have breakfast early in the morning before I head back to the mainland?”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  He gave me another smile and then walked away. I unlocked my door and briefly considered inviting him into my suite. It was tempting. He was tempting. But I had other things on my mind, so I entered my room and locked the door behind me.

  First things first. I got changed. As I hung up my pretty dress, I hoped I’d get another chance to wear it soon. I put on my comfortable lounge pants and top, grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, and flopped down on my sofa.

  I pulled my laptop off the coffee table and opened it to do some snooping. I typed Brittany Gervais Michigan into the browser’s search bar. The first page of results contained a couple of social media accounts and a link to a web page for her company—Gervais Flower Boutique. I clicked on the link and scrolled through the web page. I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual photos of flower arrangements, pricing, contact info, how to order, and a few testimonials from satisfied customers. Nothing revealing. Certainly nothing that suggested Brittany had enemies who might want to kill her.

  Next, I went into her social media accounts. She had a good amount of followers, but the pages consisted of photos of the spectacular flower arrangements she’d created over the last few years. There didn’t seem to be any personal photos. I clicked on her followers list to see if June was listed. She was, but that could have been strictly because she wanted to keep an eye on her competitor. It was smart to see what others were doing. Brittany followed June as well. So, they were engaged in mutual snooping, if that’s what it was.

  On another social media site, fifty different women named Brittany Gervais were listed. I drilled down and, after a few minutes, found Brittany’s business page. I scrolled through it, made note of her connections, her past places of employment and where she went to school, which wasn’t recently. Brittany and June were about the same age. Both were in their mid-forties. I searched to see if June had an account. There had to be a commonality between these two. Maybe they really were friends, offline as well as on. If so, when had they become friends and when had they fallen out? And why?

  Searching through June’s pages, I scrolled past her bio, her current and past employment, and stopped on where she went to school. That was the connection. They both attended the same college for a business degree. Okay, so I had a connection, although it was tenuous, and a time range. Perhaps I could find something stronger that linked them. Once I found that, then I might learn what broke their friendship.

  My stomach growled, so I ate my apple while I considered the best way forward. In some ways, it was too bad I couldn’t actually be June’s lawyer. The good news was that I wasn’t bound by certain rules, either. Not that I would do anything illegal, because I wouldn’t.

  Taking a wild chance, I typed Brittany Gervais and June Biddle Michigan into the search engine. After flipping through a couple of pages, I found a small article about alumni from the college where they’d both graduated the same year. I kept scrolling and didn’t find anything else. On a whim, I clicked on a search for images featuring the two of them.

  I went through hundreds of images. I found nothing but kept going. I was determined to find something, if it existed. Then, after scrolling for what seemed like an hour, I spotted a photo from a wedding photographer in Ann Arbor. Underneath, the caption read: Simon and Brittany Gervais wedding 2008. I clicked on it, and it sent me to a wedding album on the photographer’s site. I clicked on the photo of the bride and groom and enlarged it, squinting at the bride. It was definitely Brittany. So, she was married ten years ago and obviously later divorced, since she was dating this Tyler guy.

  I flipped through the photos, bride and groom together in every imaginable combination. Then there were photos of the bride’s family and the groom’s. Next came the wedding party photos. I flipped through two then stopped. I enlarged the bridal party, focusing on one face in particular. The maid of honor was where my persistence paid off.

  Ten years ago, when Brittany married Simon Gervais, June Biddle had been Brittany’s maid of honor.

  Which meant they had, most definitely, been friends.

  Chapter 12

  I didn’t sleep well, so when I met Daniel for breakfast at the hotel restaurant at eight, I kept yawning and apologizing for yawning.

  “I take it you didn’t go to sleep right after I dropped you off,” he commented as he signaled for our server to pour more coffee.

  “No. I ended up online for hours.”

  “Learn anything interesting?”

  I slathered jam over my English muffin. “Yeah, that June Biddle and Brittany Gervais were good friends. They graduated from the same college in the same year. And June was the maid of honor in Brittany’s wedding.” I took a bite. “I’d love to know when they fell out and why.”

  “Well, I do know their rivalry for the Flower Fest trophy has been going on for five years now. So I’d guess they must’ve fallen out before then.”

  “Did they own their individual shops before then?”

  “I don’t know.” He finished the last of his egg-white omelet and set down the fork.

  I gave him a wide, flirty grin.

  He shook his head, but his lips curled up. “Yes, I can find out about Brittany’s shop for you. You’re on your own with June’s.”

  “Thank you. I owe you.”

  “When I get the info, you can come to Frontenac City to retrieve it, and I’ll cook you dinner at my place.” There was a bit of a sparkle in his blue eyes that made my heart skip a beat.

  “Deal,” I said breathlessly.

  He set his napkin on the table. “Now I have to go if I want to catch the ferry in time to make my morning meetings.” He stood, leaned down, and kissed me before I could get to my feet and hug him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Lois took that exact moment to approach the table. “Good morning, Mayor Evans,” she said wryly.

  “Good morning, Lois. Thanks to you and your staff, the festival was a resounding success once again, despite the tragedy of Ms. Gervais’s sudden death.”

  “Yes, that was a shock, but I think all in all, yes, it was a success.”

  “I have to run. It was nice to see you.” He nodded toward Lois, then winked at me and went striding out of the restaurant.

  I was about to stand, to pay the bill and get to work, but Lois sat in Daniel’s vacated chair. So I stayed put.

  “When did this happen?” she asked, referencing my breakfast with Daniel.

  “Couple of months now.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  “Do you disapprove? Is there something about Daniel I should know?”

  “No, he’s a good guy as far as I know. I just don’t see him as your type.” Her tone was more judgmental than motherly.

  I was about to ask what she thought my type was, but I didn’t because I feared she was going to say “handsome, rugged, dogged, loyal, stubborn, and looks amazing in a pair of jeans and cowboy hat.” So, I refrained from asking and, instead, finished my English muffin.

  “How is June?” she asked.

  “Last I saw her, she was sleeping it off on the sheriff’s couch.” I drank the rest of my coffee, knowing I was going to n
eed the extra caffeine. “He was planning to question her again later this morning.”

  She played with the sugar packets on the table. “I refuse to believe she had anything to do with that woman’s death.”

  “Did you know that she and Brittany were good friends once upon a time?”

  She frowned. “No, I didn’t.”

  “They had a serious falling out if June actually killed her, don’t you think?”

  “Doesn’t mean…” she stammered.

  “How long has June had her shop on the island?”

  “About six years.”

  “As far as you know, is her business solvent? She’s not having any money troubles?”

  Lois made a face. “I assume she’s doing well. She gets all our business, and flowers are not cheap.”

  I nodded just as my cell phone buzzed. I checked it to see a text from the sheriff.

  Tyler is here for questioning. Also, I’ll be talking to June right after.

  “I’ve got to go. The sheriff is planning to question June.” I stood. “Can someone handle my desk for the rest of the morning?”

  Lois nodded. “Lane will jump at the chance to do it.”

  Yeah, I bet he will. It seemed everyone wanted my job. Not only did I have to worry about Casey coming back to work, but now I had the upstart Lane from the front desk clamoring to take my place. I needed to have another talk with Samuel about all of this. I needed some assurances. Having Lois on my side would be a big bonus, but I’d seen her kowtow to him too many times to believe she could or would overrule him if he wanted me fired.

  I said, “Hey, I’m doing a good job for you, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” She frowned and eyed me carefully.

  “It’s just that, with Casey returning soon…”

  She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t worry. I have your back. As does Ginny, of course.”

  “And what about Eric and Nicole?”

  “Well, you know how Nicole can be…”

  “I saved her life.”

  She shrugged. “True, but that only goes so far. And did you really save her life? I mean, a serious injury, certainly.”

  Although I begged to differ, I didn’t say anything.

  “And Eric basically does just about everything Nicole says,” she said.

  “What about the staff?” I asked, feeling a little more nervous instead of less.

  “Oh, they all love you. Well, maybe not everyone, but mostly all of the staff. Some think you can be a bit bossy. Oh, and a bit nosey…”

  I put my hand up in defense. “Okay, I get it. I have some work to do if I’m to become indispensable.”

  Lois smiled and nodded. “If it’s any consolation, dear, Henry loves you. He thinks of you like a daughter. Always has.”

  I smiled, too and lightly touched her arm. “He was always good to me.”

  She straightened as if my sympathy bothered her, then she was back to Business Lois. “I take it you’re going to the station.”

  I nodded.

  “I have some stuff that needs to be taken down to the village.”

  “What stuff?”

  “Just a few boxes, nothing major.”

  As I left the hotel, driving a golf cart packed with the “nothing major” boxes which were stacked three high and three wide, I thought about how Lois had talked about her late husband, Henry. In the present tense. She never talked about him in the past tense. It was worrisome.

  Ginny told me she and Eric had caught their mom a time or two having conversations with Henry around the hotel, and I had, too. I really hoped Lois’s conversations with Henry weren’t an indication of mental illness. It made me wonder if Samuel’s return to the hotel wasn’t necessarily all about me. Perhaps I’d been a convenient excuse. Maybe he was really worried about Lois instead.

  When I arrived at the station, carrying one of the boxes inside with me, there were a few people milling about. One older man was talking to Deputy Shawn at the counter, and there was a tired-looking woman sitting in one of the visitor chairs. She actually looked a lot like Brittany in her face and stature, and she had the same fair skin and reddish hair. A relative? I placed Lois’s box by the counter, and I sat in a chair near the woman.

  I looked over at her, sizing her up. I didn’t want to intrude on her grief, but I wanted some answers for June’s sake. “Are you here about Brittany Gervais?”

  Her head came up. “Yes, she was my sister.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Did you know her?”

  I nodded. “Not well, though. We’d only talked a few times. She was a lovely woman.”

  She frowned. “You couldn’t have known her well if you think that.”

  Oops.

  “Do you know June Biddle, then?”

  Her face darkened. “Yeah, I know her. She ruined Britt’s life years ago—over Simon.”

  “Simon?”

  “Yeah, Simon, Britt’s ex-husband.” She made a face. “Are you sure you even knew her?”

  Before I could respond, the door to the back rooms opened, and Tyler walked out, followed by the sheriff, who frowned when he spotted me.

  Brittany’s sister stood as Tyler approached. “Are you done? Can we leave now? I hate this island.”

  His gaze skimmed over me, unsure if he knew me or not.

  I offered my hand to him. “I’m sorry for your loss. It’s Tyler, right?”

  Nodding, he took my hand, and I noticed a very angry-looking red rash on the back of his hand that traveled up to his wrist.

  Brittany’s sister stepped in between us and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go.”

  As she pulled him out of the station, her hand went into his, and they walked out like that, which I found a bit odd, considering the circumstances. Sheriff Jackson came up to me. “What was that all about?”

  “Just offering my condolences.”

  His eyebrows arched up, and he stared at me unblinking.

  “Did you notice the rash on his hand?” I asked, hoping he’d stop giving me that disappointed look.

  “Yup, it’s on both hands,” he said.

  “Did you ask about it?”

  “He said it was eczema.”

  “You can get a rash like that from certain types of plants.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What kind of plants?”

  “Poisonous ones, I imagine.”

  He nodded, rubbed at his chin. “Do we know any plant experts?”

  I nodded. “Two. One is in the morgue, and the other is in your witness room.”

  “I’ll call Doc Neumann. Maybe she can find us a plant specialist.” He frowned again.

  “What?”

  He shook his head.

  “No, it looked like you thought of something.”

  “Maybe. Could be nothing.”

  I could tell he’d had some sort of epiphany, and I wanted to know what it was. But he wouldn’t simply tell me. I’d have to needle it out of him. And not some tiny pin, either. More like a hypodermic needle big enough for a horse, complete with plunger.

  “Are you going to question June now?”

  “Yeah, just getting set up.”

  I glanced down at the box near the counter. “Oh yeah, Lois sent me down with a bunch of boxes of stuff for you.”

  “What’s in the boxes?”

  “I don’t even know.” I crouched to pick up the box I’d brought in. As I bent over, my cell phone slid out of my purse. I set the box down for a second to scramble for my phone on the floor. After much scrambling, I picked it up and slid it into my purse, just as the door to the back offices opened and a blond woman in a gray skirt and white blouse walked out. The heel of her black pump caught on the box I’d set down. She stumbled to the side and grabbed the back of a nearby chair to steady herself so she didn’t fall.

  “Who the HELL left this box here?!” Her gaze was fierce as she glared around at the room. “I could’ve broken my nec
k!”

  Slowly, I raised my hand. “Me.”

  She pinned me with her fiery gaze until I was actually terrified.

  Before she could launch a full-fledged attack, Sheriff Jackson stepped between us. “Paige, this is Andi Steele.” He glanced at me. “Andi, this is Paige Weaver, the lawyer I told you about.”

  Paige took a deep breath and then let it out, and her entire composure changed. It was phenomenal to witness. She put on a polite smile and held out her hand. I noticed her manicured nails and felt very self-conscious about mine, which hadn’t been professionally manicured since I’d left California.

  “Andi, it’s very nice to meet you. Thank you for calling me for June.”

  I shook her hand. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

  She took a moment to look me over and then swept a hand across her perfectly coifed hair. “I have heard a lot about you.”

  “All good, I hope,” I said with a chuckle.

  She gave me that shellacked toothy smile. I was positive that she’d put Vaseline on her teeth to make them shine. “Your former colleagues in California speak…fondly of you.”

  Why the hell would she have called my old firm? Why was she checking up on me?

  “Well, you have me at a disadvantage, because I haven’t heard a single thing about you.” I instinctively stepped closer to the sheriff. “He didn’t even tell me you two had dated.”

  The sheriff’s eyebrows shot upward into his hairline. Paige noticed, and her hackles rose. Ah. Mission accomplished. Just as I’d thought. She still had feelings for Sheriff Jackson. I tucked the knowledge away for the moment, certain it would come in handy later.

  She smiled at the sheriff. “Shall we get this done? My client needs to get home and get some rest. She’s been through an extremely unfortunate, traumatic experience.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded and then looked at me. I swore he was scolding me with that frown. “I’ll make sure Shawn gets the boxes out of your cart.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Paige glanced at me. “Nice to have met you, Andi. Now that I’m here, you’re no longer needed.”

  “You too, Paige,” I replied, making the effort to sound professional.

  Sheriff Jackson opened the door to the back rooms, and Paige followed him through. Before she stepped over the threshold, she glanced back at me. “I hope you remember that June is my client. I’m the one with a license to practice here. This won’t be amateur hour.” Then she went through the door and let it shut firmly behind her.