When she gave Peter a hug, he said to her, “You still have the key to Jasmine’s room, don’t you?”
“I figured you might need it so I brought it. Sorry I’ve had it so long.” She drew it out of the pocket of her khakis and handed it to him.
“No, that’s okay. I was wondering if you’d do me another favor. We need to vacate the room. Could you pick her things up and drive them over to the house later? I’d do it, but I have an appointment I can’t be late for and the hotel wants me to check out soon.”
Rory wondered if he really had somewhere to be, or if he was making an excuse for not going inside the room. He’d found the idea too upsetting a couple days ago. She had the feeling it wouldn’t be any easier for him now. “Sure, I’ll bring them over to your place after the event at the store. Do you want me to return the key to the front desk?”
After she’d worked out the hotel room logistics with Peter, Rory mingled with the other guests for what she considered an appropriate period of time, then slipped away and took the now familiar elevator ride up to the sixth floor. She was almost at her destination when she spotted Brandy going into the room at the end of the hall. This time there was no mistake. She was absolutely sure her friend had entered the hotel room. She wondered if a scheduled tryst was the reason Peter was unable to pick up his wife’s things, but as soon as the thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Jasmine’s room was only a few doors down. If he were joining Brandy, he wouldn’t have bothered to ask for Rory’s help. He would have picked up the luggage himself or asked Brandy to do it for him.
Determined to find out what was going on, Rory marched down the hallway and knocked on the door, which remained stubbornly closed. When she heard movement on the other side of the door, she put her eye to the peephole, trying unsuccessfully to see inside the room. She waited, then knocked on the door again, this time calling out, “Brandy, I know you’re in there. Open up.”
Slowly, the door opened. Dressed in gray coveralls, Brandy stood in the doorway and motioned Rory inside. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 24
“Quick, come in.” Brandy grabbed Rory’s arm and pulled her into the hotel room.
Rory’s gaze swept the area from the hallway to the bed all the way to the open bathroom door. She listened for any tell-tale sounds, but couldn’t hear anything unusual. Unless someone was hiding underneath the bed or standing statue still in the shower, the two of them were the only occupants of the room.
“You were expecting Peter, weren’t you? You still think we’re having an affair.”
Rory gestured toward the coveralls her friend was wearing. “I wasn’t expecting this. What’s going on?” She thought back to the alarm that had been set off and the footage she’d seen of the culprit. Put a cap over Brandy’s closely cropped hair and it could have been her in the video. “Are you working with the protesters? Did you set off that alarm?”
Brandy sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not just working with them, I’m one of them.”
“But why? Why would you do that?”
“They deserve it. Every bit of it.” Brandy cast a defiant look in Rory’s direction, challenging her friend to contradict her.
“Who are you talking about?”
“The people who built this place. And everyone who allowed it to be built. No one will take responsibility for the damage it caused.”
“You mean the houses near here? Oh. Your aunt owns one of those, doesn’t she? I get it now.”
“Do you? I’m not sure you really understand. She’s not well. Alzheimer’s. My mom and I have it covered for now, but she’ll need specialized care soon. And that takes money, a lot of it. We thought we’d be able to sell the house, but now no one will buy it unless we fix it first.”
“And you can’t afford to repair it,” Rory finished the thought for her friend.
Brandy nodded.
“What about the alarm? You didn’t answer my question. Did you set it off?” Rory said.
“That wasn’t me. All I’ve done is mess around with the convention a bit. I took the water buckets out of the ballrooms. Called one of the instructors and told her that her class time had been moved. Stuff like that.”
Poor Nixie, Rory thought. The first convention she’d put together and it had to be during a time when these protests were going on. “What about the eggs and the rocks?”
“That wasn’t us, either, but those city council members deserved it. Allowing this place to be built. Not making sure the city’s residents were protected.”
“Did I deserve it too? The rock through my window?”
Surprise shown on Brandy’s face. “Someone threw a rock through your window?”
“That’s right. The same night those council members’ houses were egged.”
Brandy rubbed her neck. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“Why should I believe you? You lied before.”
“Not about Peter, I didn’t. We’re not having an affair.”
“I wasn’t talking about Peter. I’m talking about Jasmine. On the beach, you said you didn’t see her the day she died, but there’s a picture of the two of you together. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Brandy frowned. “What picture? Oh, the one in the slideshow. How do you know it was taken that day?”
“She’s wearing the same outfit she wore in class the day she died. If that’s not enough, I can always get the files and check the timestamp.”
“Oh.” Brandy shrank under Rory’s steady gaze. “That picture was taken around eight Wednesday morning, long before she was...gone.”
“Why did you lie, then?”
“I didn’t want you to know I was in the hotel because of...something else. She saw me go into this room and we talked. She thought Peter and I were having an affair, but when I told her about the protests, she was okay with it and headed back to class.”
So that’s where Jasmine went when she came up in the elevator. Rory frowned. “I’m confused. You saw her in the morning, then later on in this hallway when everyone re-entered the hotel after the false alarm. But before she went to class.”
“That’s right.”
Rory cast her mind back to Wednesday. She couldn’t remember exactly when Jasmine returned to class after the alarm, but at least fifteen minutes had passed between the all-clear and when Liz started teaching again. That could be enough time for Jasmine and Brandy to have a quick conversation. “Does Peter know? About what you’ve done?”
Brandy folded her hands in her lap and stared down at them. “No, but Jasmine supported me wholeheartedly once I told her all about our cause. She was even planning on helping me with some...things.” Her gaze shifted to the bed behind her where a package wrapped in brown paper lay.
“What’s that?” Rory looked at her friend who stared back defiantly. She moved around the bed and felt the package, but couldn’t tell what was inside. “What is this?” By Brandy’s attitude, Rory suspected this had something to do with sabotaging the hotel, but she couldn’t figure out what it could be. Unless...“Is it another stink bomb? Were you the one who planted the one in the men’s room? Is that why you’re wearing coveralls? You’re going to plant another one?”
Brandy pursed her lips. “Like I said, they deserve it.”
Rory leaned down and sniffed the coveralls her friend was wearing. They didn’t smell like they’d been in a dumpster. Of course, it had been several days, and they could have been washed.
Brandy pushed Rory away. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you were the one who hit me over the head and shoved me in the dumpster the other day.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I would never attack you.”
“You know I can’t let you set off another stink bomb, don’t you? It’s just not right.” Rory sat down on the bed next to her friend. “I’m going to have to take it away from you.”
“Do what you have to do, but that won’t stop us for
long. We can always make another one.”
Rory took the package and headed toward the hallway door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “What are you going to do now?”
“Whatever I have to do to protect my family.”
“One last question. Who’s Kym Hough? Why did you use that name when you booked the room?” Rory said.
“You don’t recognize it? Hint. Dancing. Stars. I combined a couple names of the pros on the show.”
She should have figured that out, Rory thought. Brandy had been a ballroom dancing fanatic for as long as she could remember.
Rory walked out the door and headed down the hallway to Jasmine’s room. Once inside, she sank down onto the bed and thought about what she’d learned. She pieced together Jasmine’s last day in her mind. Her friend saw Brandy in the hotel lobby at eight, went over to the PI’s office, then worked on the trade show floor. Then came class, followed by the alarm and the trip up to the hotel room.
Rory didn’t know who to believe anymore. Maybe Jasmine wasn’t as supportive of the protesters as Brandy had claimed and had caught her friend planning the act of sabotage. If she’d threatened to reveal the information to someone at the hotel or to the police, maybe Brandy or even the protest leader had silenced Jasmine permanently.
Brandy could have been lying about setting off the alarm. That could have been her in the video. The build was similar and, with the cap, you couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. She could have used her involvement with the protesters to set it off and put the medicine in Jasmine’s soda. By killing Jasmine, Brandy would not only get rid of a threat, but also clear a path to Peter, her heart’s desire.
If caught, she could always claim she’d set the alarm off as part of the protest. Even if the other members of her group told the police that wasn’t part of their agenda, she could say she’d gone rogue and thought of it all by herself.
Juggling the package, suitcase, carry-on and roller bag, Rory rode down in the elevator to the lobby. She didn’t know what to do with the stink bomb she’d taken away from Brandy. She knew she should hand it over to the police, but she didn’t know if she could do that without telling them where she found it.
She was standing in the lobby, trying to decide what to do, when Detective Green came out of the hallway leading to the management offices with two hotel employees. Taking his appearance as a sign, Rory waited until he was alone before approaching him.
She handed the detective the package wrapped in brown paper. “I found this. I think it might be another stink bomb. Thought the police should have it.”
He took the package out of her hands and examined it. “What makes you think it’s a stink bomb?”
“Just a hunch.”
“Where did you say you found it?”
“I didn’t.” She started to wheel the luggage toward the parking garage elevator.
Detective Green walked beside her. “Let me help you with that.”
She let him take charge of the suitcase while she slung the carry-on over her shoulder and wheeled the roller bag full of painting supplies across the lobby into the elevator.
They didn’t say a word until they reached Rory’s car in the underground parking structure. After stowing the luggage in her trunk, he leaned against her car and said, “Are you going to tell me where you got this package from?”
“I can’t.”
He studied her face. “Friend?”
Rory stared at a nearby post, trying to come up with the right words. “What would you do if you knew someone had done something...wrong? Would you tell on them?”
“Illegal?”
“Maybe. But no one got hurt, physically anyway.”
“Is this a good friend?”
“Does it matter?” she said.
“Not to me, but I suspect it does to you.”
“You’re ducking the question. What would you do?”
The detective paused before answering, considering his words carefully. “I’m a police officer, sworn to uphold the law. I take that oath very seriously. But I’m not you. I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t force you to talk, but here’s my advice to you. Tell your friend to knock it off.”
In silence, they rode up in the elevator together, parting ways in the lobby. Rory was on her way to the Scrap ’n Paint booth when she received a text asking her to see Nell in the hotel’s office. She retraced her steps and asked someone at the front desk where she could find the acting manager. They directed her to the nearby hallway. In the office at the end, she found the woman sitting in a chair, staring at a computer screen.
Nell looked up as Rory knocked on the open door. “Rory, thank goodness you’re here. Ian told me to contact you if there were any more problems with the website.”
“What’s wrong?”
Rory took Nell’s place in front of the computer. While Nell explained the problem, Rory grabbed a Post-it and, clearing a space on the desk, took notes. The acting manager left Rory alone in the office and headed to the front desk to help a guest. Fifteen minutes later, Rory had resolved the issue. When she tried to return the desk to its original state, she noticed a folder peeking out from under a pile of papers. The label on it said “Blue Wave Investments,” the name of the company Nell said the owner hid behind.
Rory glanced over at the partially open door to make sure no one was nearby and put the folder on her lap. A quick glance told her the papers inside were a real estate partnership agreement between Ian and several other people.
The document contained too much text for her to absorb so she took photos of each page with her cell phone, periodically glancing up to make sure no one was coming down the hall toward the office. Once she was done, she stuffed the folder back under the stack of papers. By the time Nell entered the room, Rory was out of the chair and ready to head out the door.
“All fixed,” she told the woman. “Text me if you have any more problems.”
They discussed the solution to the website problem as Nell escorted Rory to the lobby.
As soon as she was alone, Rory headed outside to the courtyard and settled down on a wrought iron bench in the shade. She studied the photos she’d taken of the real estate partnership agreement. Dated less than two years ago, the agreement designated Ian as the managing partner. Three other names were mentioned, none of which she recognized. He’d also contributed the majority of the money for whatever real estate endeavor the group was involved in. With her finger, she swiped across the screen, flipping through the photos, finally coming across one page titled “Property Description,” where the address of the Akaw hotel was listed.
Rory set her cell phone in her lap and thought about Ian’s investment in the hotel. With this new information, she wondered if she should rethink her opinion about his guilt. He had a lot more to lose than she’d originally thought. If it became public that Ian was responsible for a hit-and-run, his partners wouldn’t be happy about it. She didn’t know the legalities of the situation, but she suspected he would lose his position as managing partner and might even lose all the money he’d sunk into the Akaw. Given that, Rory understood how Ian might want to silence Jasmine, but none of this explained his sudden confession.
Chapter 25
As soon as the trade show floor closed at noon, Rory and her mother headed to Arika’s Scrap ’n Paint to set up for the meet and greet, putting off packing up the booth until later that afternoon. After Jasmine’s untimely death, the store owner asked Viveca if she should cancel the two-hour event, but the guest of honor insisted her niece would have wanted them to continue. While Rory stacked pattern books and packets on the signing table, Arika worked on the refreshments, laying out a cheese platter next to bottles of champagne and sparkling cider on a card table near the back of the sales floor.
After everything was set up, Arika surveyed the store with a critical eye, her gaze traveling over the event tables and racks of merchandise, before nodding her approval and unlocking the door. Not long after she
flipped the sign from closed to open, the bell over the front door tinkled, signaling the arrival of the first customers. Women began trickling in as convention attendees took the ten-minute walk from the Akaw to the painting supply store. The trickle soon became a flood and, before long, the store was at capacity.
Head cam strapped on, Stella moved around the store, filming the event for her painting chapter. As people milled around, waiting for the guest of honor to arrive, Rory handed a raffle ticket to each person while her mother mingled with the crowd, welcoming everyone and speaking to as many people as possible.
“What’s this for?” Mel asked when Rory handed her a ticket from the roll around her arm.
“We’re raffling off a basket of Viveca’s patterns and a certificate for a class she’ll be teaching, as well as some other painting supplies.”
“How much?” Mel reached into her purse for her wallet.
“No charge,” Rory said. “Just keep half and put the other half in the bowl over there.” She waved her hand in the direction of the table where Veronica was snapping a photo of Arika with the raffle items. In front of the basket stood a fishbowl where customers could drop in their tickets.
Moments later, a ball of energy burst through the front door.
“Did I miss anything?” Liz said, a little breathlessly.
Rory smiled at her friend. “She’s not here yet. What did you do, run all the way from the hotel?” She looked down at the pumps Liz wore with her black pants, marveling at how fast the woman could travel in heels.
“Just about. I thought for sure I was going to be late.” Liz held up a pattern book. “I almost forgot the book I want Viveca to sign.”
Mel stared at the front cover of the book, a puzzled expression on her face. “That says Viveca Campbell. I thought her last name was Forster.”
“That’s a pattern book she published years ago under her maiden name. She got married recently, so she uses Forster now,” Rory said before moving on to the next person.
Paint the Town Dead Page 18
