Did she just call Mr. Davenport “Cecil” and tell him he’s being silly? I must have heard wrong. That can’t possibly be his name.
“Now, Delphine, we need to keep you and your assets unblemished. They are insured for a reason,” he says. For the first time, Mr. Davenport’s voice is sweet and not the gruff bark he always uses to communicate. It’s funny to see how much he changes in front of Delphine. “Let’s get you out of here. There are probably more photographers.”
She pulls away from him.
“Miss Vance, can you show me to my room? Let the boys handle the pesky intruders while we girls settle in.”
For once, Mr. Davenport is tongue-tied. I shrug at Walter. This isn’t exactly what I expected to happen but who am I to question it? I’m about to escort the Delphine Lucerne to her room. I just go with the flow.
“You two follow close behind,” Walt alerts the security guards.
Delphine holds out her arm for me to interlace with mine.
“Shall we?” she asks.
“This way!”
Behind us, Mr. Davenport—or Cecil—continues to yell at the photographer. I wonder if he will ever get tired of hearing his own voice. I know I already am. Eventually the shouting is drowned out by the chirping of birds and Delphine’s heels on the pathway. I concentrate on making sure I lead Delphine to the right suite while also taking into account everything around me. Like how she isn’t wearing gloves and her hands are free of rings. How there is a delicate gold necklace with a pendant around her neck. I can’t really make out what the pendant says, but it’s very pretty and understated. This close, I can smell Delphine’s perfume. It is a mixture of lavender and rose, and I think I can smell hints of patchouli. Scents are really important when you are a detective.
“So, Cecil, huh?” I say. “Mr. Davenport’s first name is Cecil. I never would have guessed that.”
I can’t help giggling, which leads to more laughing, and then soon I can’t stop. Delphine joins me.
“Yes, that’s his name,” she says. “Sometimes it’s nice to remind him.”
We stroll across the gardens. The workers steer away from our path. They’ve all been alerted to keep clear. The security guards walk a few paces behind us. “How was your flight, Ms. Lucerne?” I ask.
“I’ve been on so many planes. You go up; you go down,” she says. “You know what I like to do when I’m on a plane? Stare at the clouds.”
I smile. It’s obvious Delphine Lucerne loves the window seat, just like me.
“Do you ever get tired of the photographers?” I ask.
“It’s all part of the game. Photographers, interviews, glamour shots,” she says. “I can’t be tired of this life. I asked for it.”
The way she says this makes me think that she’s not being completely honest. Being one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is probably a dream every little girl has at one point or another, but no one ever talks about what you might have to give up for it. I mean, arriving incognito just so you can check in to your hotel; there is no way that is easy or fun.
“I hope you will enjoy your stay at Crossed Palms Resort,” I say. “We have many activities. You can learn how to Hula-Hoop, take a painting class, or learn how to surf. Cheryl, our concierge, will help you if you have any questions.”
“Thank you for the suggestions,” she says. “I probably won’t have much time. Cecil has me on a very tight schedule. You know how movie people are.”
“Yeah, movie people,” I say, although this is by far the closest I’ve been to Hollywood.
A security guard is already positioned in front of the door of her suite. I give him a nod and he opens the door. The suite is filled with tons of flowers, and not just any flower—daises. Practically every inch of the suite bursts with daisies. Ada the florist really went all out making sure Delphine is greeted with the most amazing floral explosion. The actress takes off her scarf and her heels, which brings a smile to my face. It’s something Mom would totally do: take off her shoes as soon as she walks into her apartment to make herself comfortable.
“What a sweet thing to do! Who knew daisies are my favorite?” she asks. “Everyone loves roses but I prefer my daisies. Daisies always remind me of home. I used to get up early in the mornings and pick a bunch of them to enjoy while we ate breakfast. I always thought they brightened up the table.”
I try to picture Delphine as a little girl, running around barefoot. She must have been fun.
“If there’s anything else you need, just let me know,” I say. “Anything at all.”
“Thank you so much for escorting me, Miss Vance,” she says.
“Oh, you can call me Goldie. Everyone does,” I respond. “Well, I should be heading out. I don’t want to be in your way.”
“You? Not possible. What do you do here, Goldie, besides saving actresses from bad falls?” she asks with a laugh, and grabs a seat, her bare feet dangling.
“I’m assistant to Walter Tooey, the Crossed Palms Resort house detective. It’s my job to make sure everything goes smoothly for your appearance,” I say. “I also work as a valet. ‘Driver extraordinaire’ should really be my job title, if I’m being honest.”
“Goldie, you are such a gas! A girl of many talents. That’s really the key to life,” she says. “When I was your age I used to be just as confident. If you can’t toot your own horn, how will those around you see you?”
Without her large sunglasses and scarf, I can see she has a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. I would have never guessed it. I guess Hollywood doesn’t want their starlets with freckles, but I think it just adds to her charm. Why hide something that’s part of you?
Mr. Davenport barges into the suite, huffing and puffing. I swear, he’s going to give himself a heart attack. He glares at me.
“You can go now,” he says and points to the door. I guess my time is up.
“I’m really glad I got to meet you,” I say. Delphine stands up.
“Cecil, I’ve been thinking. Since Goldie seems so well versed about things here, I would like for her to personally escort me to the set today,” she says. “Goldie, would you mind if we steal you away a bit from your valet duties?”
“Me mind? Of course not,” I say. “There will always be more cars to park tomorrow.”
Mr. Davenport opens his mouth to say no but stops himself.
“Of course she can escort you,” he says. “Meet us here at exactly twelve o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“Sure thing, Cecil. I’m sorry, I mean… Mr. Davenport!” His grumpy-looking face is worth every single mistake I’ve ever made in this life and the next. “Bye!”
Delphine Lucerne just asked me to be her escort. Never in a million trillion years did I expect to be so lucky. Although she’s a big movie star, there’s also something so normal about her. It must be the slight country accent and her freckles. Who would have predicted Delphine would be so approachable?
Now that Delphine is secured safely in her suite, it’s time to find out what’s happening with Mr. Davenport’s second “product.” Where is the famous Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau?
Chapter Six
WALT DIRECTS THE CROWD OF GUARDS AS IF HE’S conducting a grand symphony. The guards form a circular human barrier. At the center of the circle are two men holding up a large hatbox labeled FRAGILE.
“Is that it?” I ask.
Walt nods.
“Are you sure? Did you open the box and peek inside?” I ask. “What if it’s missing, and what we’re holding is only an empty box?”
Walt turns to me with a nervous look. I have to ask the tough questions. Someone has to! The guards wait for him to give them the word.
“Let’s get this to the vault,” he says.
I follow them through the lobby and past the concierge desk. The vault is located behind the concierge booth and down steps. Whenever guests want to store their valuables, they can do so by asking for access to the vaults. Similar to a bank, the vault has a super-heavy door that
’s impossible to penetrate. There are only a handful of people who have access to it. I am not one of those people, so I’m excited for this rare moment to see inside.
Walt draws out a large weighted key from inside his pocket and sends the majority of the guards to wait outside. Lucky for me, he hasn’t kicked me out yet. Walt inserts the key, which needs a few jiggles, and opens the heavy door.
The vault has one long table in the center of the room. Against the walls are lockers, each with an individual lock and a number pertaining to a hotel room. There are no windows, and yet the room is way cooler than any of the other rooms in the hotel. Unlike upstairs, where each hotel nook has colorful decorations, this room is completely bare of such things. The walls have no art whatsoever. Not a thing. It almost feels as if I’m entering an operating room in a hospital. Paging Dr. Tooey!
Walt takes the box and places it in the center of the table.
“This feels like Christmas and a birthday wrapped up in one day,” I say.
Walt wipes the sweat from his brow. “I hate to admit it. This is going to be quite the sight to see. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Using gloves to avoid any fingerprints, Walt slowly unties the hatbox. A layer of delicate tissue paper covers the top. He meticulously extracts each sheet and gently places them to the side. He grabs hold of both sides of the box—we each hold our breaths—and pulls them down gently, laying them flat against the surface of the table. There’s just a little more tissue paper to excavate.
“Wowza,” I say.
“Wow, indeed,” Walt says.
Resting atop a mannequin’s head is the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau in all its splendor. The diamonds sparkle so intensely that the brilliance shines off the walls of the vault. The picture Walter had doesn’t do justice to the real swimming cap. It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I reach to touch one of the diamonds, when Walter immediately swats my hand away.
“No touching,” he says.
“But I have my gloves on!”
I wish I could try it on. When Delphine places this on her head, she will shine like the most dazzling star in the galaxy.
“Do you know what’s really amazing about all of this?” I ask. “Just knowing that so many talented people created it! What’s the name of the designer?”
“Edna Blanchett.”
“Right. From Edna Blanchett designing the cap to sewing each diamond, hard work pays off,” I say. “And here we are, helping bring this masterpiece to the big ol’ screen. What a day!”
“Well, I’ll be happy when the hat is filmed and taken back. In the meantime, we will be on super alert. The Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau will stay in the vault for only a few hours,” Walt says. “Then it will be transported to the set over by the Mermaid Club. Mr. Davenport doesn’t want anything to mess this schedule up.”
“Not a problem. When will the transfer be done?”
“At exactly twelve fifteen PM today,” he says.
“You don’t know this yet, but I’m escorting Delphine Lucerne to the Mermaid Club,” I say. “She wants me to accompany her to the set.”
“Wait a sec. Why?” Walt says.
“Because I’m adorable?”
Walter frowns. One thing he doesn’t like is a change in plans, but in my opinion, all good detectives have to be flexible.
“Don’t worry, Walt. I’ll make sure she arrives punctually. You just make sure this priceless gem gets there first.”
Walt nods. “It is quite beautiful.”
“Don’t you feel as if it’s just calling you to try it on?” My hands once again try reaching for the hat. This time Walt gently pushes them away. When he does, I do the right thing and help him put the chapeau back in its place. Every tissue exactly where it belongs.
“See you later, Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau,” I say. “Get ready for your spotlight!”
The hotel clock rings. It’s nine AM and the Crossed Palms will be in full swing. At least the arrival of our two most precious guests landed without much of a hitch. Well, except for the photographer. And speaking of…
“Hey, Walt. Who was the guy in the bushes?”
“A tabloid photographer. He said he had a hunch someone important was arriving today. Luckily, with your keen senses and hawk eyes, we nailed him before he was able to take any pictures or see a thing. I’m sure we’re going to see an uptick in these types of incidents.”
Walt is right. Where there is one tabloid reporter, there are more. It will be a challenge transporting Delphine to the closed set without anyone noticing. This is going to take some thinking. A disguise will definitely be needed, but of what? Hmmm.
Walt closes the box and places it inside one of the vaults. He locks the door, puts his hands at his sides, and checks one more time to make sure it’s locked. Then he carefully puts the key in his pocket.
“Keep your eyes peeled for anything strange or off. You take the lobby,” he says. “I’m going to do my rounds.”
“Got it,” I say.
We break and I am alert, paying close attention for any lurking journalists or photographers. The hotel is still a sea of swamp monsters, mermaids, and scaly sea creatures. Honestly, any one of these people could be a newspaper guy in hiding, which makes me observe even more intensely. I also keep thinking about disguises and figuring out how to get Delphine to the Mermaid Club. There must be a way of distracting any pesky tabloid photographers and getting them off our tail.
“Goldie! Over here!” Cheryl waves me over.
“Everyone can’t stop talking about all the commotion,” she says. “Were you here for it?”
“Cheryl, a true detective doesn’t divulge,” I say. “But I will say that it’s been quite the doozy of a morning, and the day is just beginning. I need your advice.”
“What do you mean you can’t tell me? I’m your best friend. Spill the beans or I won’t help.”
Cheryl is my best friend, but I can’t just tell her about Delphine Lucerne and break my promise to Walt. She would understand. I think. I’m definitely in a pickle. We both wait until two mermaids walk past us before continuing.
“Honestly, if I could tell you what happened, I would, but my detective hat is officially on,” I say. “Let’s just say there’s a very important guest and I have to figure out how to move the very important guest without anyone noticing. Any ideas?”
“What on earth are you doing, Goldie?” Cheryl laughs. “Transporting people?”
“From point A to point B without alerting the press. It’s not easy when the person is a living, breathing, well-known person.”
Cheryl leans in. “A famous person?” she whispers. I look around, too, making sure no one is listening in on our conversation, before giving an affirmative head nod.
“Hmmm. Okay, I get you can’t tell me, but pinky swear right here and now that you will when you can.”
We lock pinkies and seal the deal.
“So what do you think?” I ask.
“What you’ll need to do is figure out a way of hiding the person’s face. Now, if they were an astronaut, they could easily be concealed in a space suit, although they might faint from the heat.”
“Hey, Goldie.” Rob joins us at the concierge booth. He hasn’t changed into his valet uniform yet. He slaps my back as a greeting but gives a shy wave to Cheryl. Rob and I both started working as valets around the same time. He’s been pining for Cheryl ever since we parked our first cars. I think Cheryl likes him, too, but she also gets annoyed by him sometimes. “Hi, Cheryl.”
“Rob, what do you think about concealing a person’s face?”
Rob rubs his cheek. “I say, don’t do it, Goldie. Your face is what God gave you, and it’s not a bad face. I mean, it’s not Cheryl’s, but still…”
“Not her, silly,” Cheryl says. “A hotel guest who doesn’t want to be seen.”
“Oh.” There’s a long pause as we each rack our brains for ideas.
“I got it!” Rob says. “Beekee
pers.”
“Huh?” Cheryl and I both say.
“Beekeepers. Mr. Santiago is the Crossed Palms Resort’s beekeeper. Have you ever seen him suit up in order to tend to the beehives over at the south end of the Crossed Palms? He wears this elaborate mask that practically covers his body.”
“Rob’s right! Mr. Santiago has an amazing suit. The hat alone would be enough to hide whoever you are trying to hide.”
“Who are we trying to hide?” Rob asks.
“Don’t ask. This one isn’t naming names yet,” Cheryl says. “Or maybe you can get it out of her.”
“Me?” Rob replies. “No way. When Goldie sets her mind to things she’s like an impenetrable safe.”
“A beekeeper. Huh?” I say. “You might be onto something, Rob.”
The phone rings. Cheryl picks it up and uses her most professional voice.
“Yes, Mr. Maple. Right away, Mr. Maple.”
“Mr. Maple wants us both in his office.” Cheryl matches her grimace with mine. I pray I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not my fault Delphine Lucerne wants me around. What if Mr. Davenport refuses her request to have me escort her? I’ll have to state my case, which means I need to think of one on the way.
“Did he say why?”
Cheryl shakes her head.
“Yikes. I better go. Don’t want to give Mr. Maple any reason to call me in,” Rob says. “I’ll see you guys later. Dinner at the Deep End?”
“Today’s the first day of the big movie scene being filmed at the Mermaid Club,” I say. “I doubt I’ll have time for the Deep End.”
Rob shrugs. “What about you, Cheryl? There are fries and a chocolate milk shake with your name on it.”
“Maybe. I feel like today is going to be really intense,” Cheryl says. “I mean, take a look around.”
A boy buries his head against his mother after a swamp thing walks past him. Seconds later, the little boy starts to cry.
“Here, make sure the little one gets this.” Cheryl hands Rob a yo-yo from her drawer. “We better go. Shouldn’t keep the big boss waiting.”
The Hotel Whodunit Page 5
