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

by Diane Capri

  Too bad the heavy door didn’t smack her in the ass.

  Chapter 13

  Amateur hour. Amateur hour! I thought with an indignant sniff.

  This mantra repeated in my head on an endless loop. By the time I got back to the hotel, I must’ve looked like I was going to rip someone’s throat out, because people avoided me, both staff and guests. After being stung by Paige’s well-aimed barb, I’d endured twenty minutes of Deputy Shawn’s angry efforts to unload the golf cart.

  “So, I guess I have you to thank for the upcoming transfer,” he’d snapped as he grabbed two boxes from the back.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “Right. Everything was fine until you showed up on the island.”

  “I still don’t know what you are talking about,” I said, although I was pretty sure I did know. The sheriff had mentioned something about transferring Shawn off the island. But it was his own incompetence that got him booted, not my influence.

  “You must have the sheriff wound around your little finger. He’d never have thought of getting rid of me unless you’d said something to him.”

  I glared at him. “Maybe it’s the fact that you are lazy, incompetent, and really, truly suck at your job. Maybe that’s why the sheriff wants to get you the hell off this island.” I took a step toward him, indignant fire raging inside. “You are not cut out to be in law enforcement.”

  Then I’d grabbed the last box out of the cart and accidentally (deliberately, if I’m honest) dropped it onto his foot. I jumped into the cart and peeled out of the parking lot. I’d actually burned a little rubber, which made me feel a bit better.

  Ginny intercepted me as I stormed across the lobby. “You look like you want to kill someone, or have already.”

  “It was close.” I held up my thumb and forefinger, almost touching. “This close.”

  When Lane saw me approaching the concierge desk, he logged off the computer and came around the other side.

  “How did it go?” I asked him, doing my best not to snap his head off. After all, he wasn’t responsible for Deputy Shawn’s outrageous accusations.

  “Lots of people checking out. So, lots of taxi and shuttle arranging, and bag storing.”

  I figured as much, since the festival had ended with last night’s ball. I got behind the desk and stashed my purse in one of the cupboards. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  He gave me a big smile. “It was no problem. I always enjoy helping out.” He returned to the front desk, his usual post.

  “You know he said that because you were standing here,” I said to Ginny.

  “I know. He’s the ultimate suck-up. Samuel loves ’im for it.” She shook her head. “Lois said you went down to the station. Did everything go okay? Is June…?” She shrugged, probably not sure exactly what to ask. The evidence against June was mounting, and there was talk around the hotel, and none of it was good.

  “You know her better than I do,” I replied.

  Ginny worried at her bottom lip. “She’s always been a pleasant person. I’ve never seen her angry or even in a bad mood. I don’t think she’s capable of murder.”

  “We’re all capable in the right set of circumstances,” I growled, thinking of Deputy Shawn’s foot again.

  Ginny shrugged, and I could almost see her shifting gears as her mischievous grin returned. “So, I found out his name.”

  “Who’s name?”

  “The major hottie you are trying to set me up with. Wasn’t easy to find, either, with all the extra guests for the Flower Festival coming and going.”

  “So, are you going to make me guess or what?” I teased.

  “I should. That would serve you right.” She squeezed my arm. “Barrington. How’s that for a name? Sounds positively regal, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s his first name or his last name?”

  “Does it matter? Either way, it sounds impressive. And get this. He’s here all the way from Hong Kong. Wonder if your parents know anything about him?” Someone called to her from across the room. She looked over and then turned to go. “Sorry. We’ll pick this up later.”

  I lost myself in work for the rest of the afternoon and tried not to think about Barrington, or June, or Shawn, or that horrible woman, Paige. What had the sheriff ever seen in her? It made me question his judgment for dating her. Maybe I’d just caught her on a bad day. Yeah, and maybe the devil was missing his mistress.

  After I helped a couple book a tee time on the golf course—it was their forty-fifth wedding anniversary and they’d met during a golf tournament. He was golfing and she was a caddy for another golfer—I got a bit of a breather. I checked my phone and saw a text from Daniel asking how my day was going. I texted back with a thumbs-down and cry-face emoji, then I rushed across the lobby to the tea shop.

  While I waited for my tea and tried not to think about Barrington from Hong Kong, I looked around the café, taking in the different people sitting at tables. That was one of the things I liked about being concierge—people watching. So many types of men and women have walked through those hotel doors.

  My gaze landed on two clean-cut men huddled together at a small table, drinking tea and eating sandwich wraps. They both wore lightweight hoodies and track pants but looked undeniably uncomfortable in them. It was as if they were wearing costumes, a disguise even.

  I wondered what they were discussing so seriously, so I took a step toward their table, straining to hear their conversation.

  “Last I heard, he left the island,” the blond one said.

  “Yeah, but we need to find out why he was here and who he’s been talking to,” the balding one said, then bit into his food.

  The blond shook his head. “Tyler is going to be in a lot of trouble when the bigwigs catch up to him.”

  Baldy nodded in agreement.

  Tyler? The same Tyler she’d seen at the sheriff’s station? The one who’d been arguing with Brittany and left the station with Brittany’s sister? Why were these guys looking for Tyler? And who were these guys, anyway? They definitely didn’t look like mobsters. They didn’t look like athletes, either.

  I grabbed my tea and decided to welcome them to the hotel and offer my concierge services. “Hello there,” I said.

  They both startled and glanced up at me.

  I gave them my winningest smile. “I’m Andi Steele, the concierge here at the Park. I just wanted to welcome you to the hotel. If there is anything I can do to help make your stay a pleasant experience, simply let me know.”

  Blondie looked at Baldy, who then glanced wide-eyed at me. “No, thank you. I’m pretty sure we’re all set.”

  “Dinner reservations? Tee time? You two look like golfers.”

  “Nope, we are definitely not golfers,” Baldy said.

  “I like to golf,” Blondie said.

  Baldy frowned. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

  “You’re here on business or pleasure?” I spied the receipt for their meal on the table wondering if their room number was on it.

  Blondie said, “Pleasure.” At the same time, Baldy said, “Business.”

  I had to hold back a laugh. If these two were spying, they weren’t very good at it.

  “Well, there’s always time for both,” I said, then I pulled out a card from my pocket and held it out to Baldy, but I dropped it onto the table. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I scrambled for it, swiping the receipt. I handed the card to Baldy. “If you change your mind, don’t hesitate to call my desk.”

  “Thank you.” He opened his wallet to put my card in, and I spotted an ID card from Ackerman Biosystems along with his Costco membership and a Delta Airlines frequent flyer card.

  “Have a good day.” I then beelined back to my desk and logged on to the hotel server. I unrumpled the receipt and looked down at the bottom of it. They’d charged their lunch to room 312. I plugged the number into the system.

  Room 312 was registered under the name Barry Laughlin. Checked in this
morning to a room with two double beds.

  I then went on the internet and searched for Ackerman Biosystems. The first entry that showed was from a company in Ann Arbor. I clicked on the link. Ackerman Biosystems empowers innovators to unlock the global genetic potential of plants. I scrolled through the pages. Ackerman was a bioengineering company finding ways to optimize crops by capitalizing on genetic diversity. So, they were basically fooling around with plant DNA and making new plants or changing how other plants grow. In other words, GMOs.

  In the company’s search bar, I typed in Barry Laughlin. A page listing current employees at Ackerman displayed them in alphabetical order. I scrolled down and found a picture of baldy from the café. Trent Mason. He was listed as a chief bioengineer. There was no photo of Blondie—Keith Dubber, but he looked like some sort of engineer to me, too.

  What was a bioengineer doing on the island looking for Tyler, who just happened to somehow be involved with a dead florist? It didn’t make sense, except that the common denominator was plants.

  Brittany and June worked with plants and flowers. Obviously, Tyler did, too, since he was somehow connected to the same company as the two guys in the café. Brittany died from some mysterious poison that I’d bet a million bucks was plant related. And the sheriff said Tyler had a rash on his hands that I suspected was plant related, too. And now these two bio-engineers were here looking for Tyler.

  What was going on, and who knew the plant business could be deadly?

  Obviously, I had a lot to learn about plants. Especially poisonous ones.

  The sheriff had said he planned to contact a plant expert, but I couldn’t wait for that to happen. And it wasn’t like he would share any information with me, anyway. So I needed to find my own plant expert.

  Who did I know with a green thumb who would talk openly to me?

  I smiled, realizing I knew two green thumbs who loved to talk.

  Chapter 14

  By the time I parked the hotel cart in front of Nora and Kris’s little bungalow, it was late. I was pretty sure the eighty-year-old sisters would still be up. They were both firecrackers and had more energy than some of the younger people I knew.

  I knocked on their door. Five seconds later, I could hear one of them shouting, “Someone’s at the door!”

  Then the response. “So, why don’t you get it?”

  “I’m in my nightie.”

  “So am I.”

  “Well, yours isn’t see-through. Mine is.”

  “Fair point.”

  A few moments later, the door opened to a bathrobed Nora, scowling and squinting. When I’d first met her, I had dubbed her Sunglasses because she wore these huge, black, wraparound shades. Her eyes were light sensitive.

  “Unless you’re selling Girl Scout cookies, we don’t want any. Oh, and we’ve already found God, thank you very much.”

  “It’s Andi Steele from the Park Hotel. Don’t you remember me?”

  She squinted harder, and then her face lit up. “Oh yes, of course. Have you hooked up with the sheriff yet?”

  “Ah, no. We’re just friends. Remember I told you that?”

  She scrunched up her face.

  “Who is it?” Kris called from another room.

  “It’s Andi. From the hotel,” Nora shouted over her shoulder.

  “Did she hook up with the sheriff yet?” Kris called out.

  “Nah, she says they’re just friends.”

  A bark of laughter preceded Kris’s response. “That’s what I said about Duke, and you know what happened there.”

  Nora nodded at me, like she was giving me life lessons. “Yup, three kids popped out.”

  “Well,” I said, “there aren’t any kids popping out of me any time soon.”

  “Don’t worry, dear. You still have a few good years left.” Nora patted my hand. “Now, why are you knocking on our door so late?”

  “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about poisonous plants.”

  She didn’t even bat an eye as she opened the door wide. “Sure, come on in.”

  I followed her though the cozy living room to the kitchen. She pointed to a chair, and I sat down.

  “Do you want some tea?” she asked.

  “I’d love some, thank you.”

  While Nora filled the kettle with water, Kris shuffled into the kitchen. When I’d first met her, I’d nicknamed her Blue, as she wore the brightest blue cardigan I’d ever seen. The bright blue robe she wore now suggested that blue might be her favorite color.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” I said.

  She waved a wrinkled hand at me. “Nonsense. We don’t often get visitors, especially at night. It’s like living on the edge.” She sunk into another chair at the wooden kitchen table.

  “Yeah, this is probably as rowdy as we’ve been in twenty years,” Nora added as she plopped tea bags into three cups.

  “Speak for yourself,” Kris said, “I was at the bingo riot of 2002.”

  Nora nodded and clucked her tongue. “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

  I glanced at Kris, eyebrow raised. “Bingo riot?”

  “Oh, honey, it’s a story that would make your jaw drop.” She patted my hand on the table. “I’ll save it for another time.”

  Nora set the tea cups on the table and took a seat. “So, what do you need to know about plants?”

  “I’m wondering if you knew what plants or flowers are the most poisonous.”

  Nora shook her head. “You could just ask the Google that question and get an immediate answer. There’s lots of poisonous plants. And some are poisonous to pets but not to people. Stuff like that. So, what do you really want to know?”

  “What would be the purpose of handling poisonous plants? Why work with them? Doesn’t seem logical to me.”

  “Well, take hemlock, for example,” Kris said. “Can be used for different naturopathic treatments for things like asthma. It has been used in the past for pain relief from teething.”

  “What about the others?”

  Nora nodded. “Well, oleander seeds have been used as medicines for heart conditions, and asthma and menstrual cramps even.”

  “Now, foxglove is a different beast,” Kris said. “It shouldn’t ever be used in self-healing. There is a chemical compound taken from the foxglove that is used to make the pharmaceutical drug called digoxin, which is used for heart conditions.”

  “Which poisonous plants would be the best to kill someone?” I asked.

  Nora glanced at Kris, who pursed her wrinkled lips. “Foxglove,” they said in unison.

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s lethal, and it doesn’t take as much to poison,” Kris said. “The others would take longer and require a larger amount.”

  Nora’s eyes widened as she stared at me. “You’re thinking of that poor mainlander who was found dead in the maze. Hm. Makes sense some kind of plant might have killed her, considering she was a florist. You have to be careful when you’re messing around with plants. A lot of people don’t realize that. But she should have.”

  “It’s just a theory,” I said, but they were smart women and could easily put two and two together.

  “Do you want to see what foxglove looks like?” Kris asked. “We have some in the greenhouse. It’s a pretty plant.”

  Five minutes later, we were all crowded in their small greenhouse that was in the back yard. Kris pointed to a three-foot pink column of upside-down bell-type flowers. She was right. They were very pretty. Next to it was another pot of purple ones, and another pot of white ones.

  “Is it safe to handle? Can you get a rash on your hands?” I asked as I studied the flowers.

  “A person should always wear gloves when handling any plant,” Nora said.

  Kris nodded. “You could get a rash from the sap the flower produces.”

  “Do you think someone poisoned that woman?” Nora asked.

  “Not sure.”

  “If I wanted to kill someone, I’d use ricin fr
om the castor bean plant. It would be instantaneous, and you’d need to use only a little,” Kris said.

  “What if you wanted to kill someone over time? Slowly poison them?”

  Kris pursed her lips again. “Oleander or hemlock. Grind up the seeds, sprinkle into something, like food or drink, do it for weeks. That would do the trick. The person wouldn’t even know.”

  I left the sisters with my head full of plant knowledge and promises that I’d consider “getting on the sheriff before he’s taken.” I cruised around the village pondering what I’d just learned. If June had wanted to kill Brittany, there were other better ways to do it than by poisoning her with plants. For one thing, the amount of poison and the length of time it would take to kill her…it just didn’t make sense that June would have gone through all that trouble. She didn’t see Brittany socially, since Brittany lived on the mainland. June wouldn’t have had a regular opportunity to administer a slow-acting poison. The murderer probably had spent time with Brittany often and on a regular basis. Which meant the killer would have been someone close to her. Like a boyfriend or family member or a coworker, if she’d had any.

  In my mind, that put Tyler and Brittany’s sister as the most viable suspects. They had means and opportunity, at least. What about motive?

  Before I headed off in that direction, I wanted to clear June completely. I parked the golf cart on Market Street right in front of June’s Blooms. If she had any of the possible flower killers, they’d likely be in her cold storage. I wasn’t sure where June got her flowers—whether she purchased them from a distributor or grew her own. If they came from a distributor, she’d have records of her purchases. If she grew her own, there would be indications of that as well. And now that I knew what I was looking for…

  Although it was dark inside, I tried the door to her shop. It was locked, of course. I glanced across the street at the station and wondered if June was still there. Had she been arrested? Or had the dragon lady gotten her released, meaning June was now at home? Either way, I didn’t want to bother June.