Serena flapped a hand. "Same difference. It's still a cliché. I've sacrificed so much for him and he couldn't even be faithful. He wanted to live in Montgomery. We came home to Montgomery. I turned down six offers at city firms to come back here, because that's what Ted wanted. He wanted to buy this house. We bought this house. He wants, wants, wants and gets, gets, gets. What do I get? I get fired for having a baby."
"At least, you got the baby."
Serena hugged Victoria closer to her. "At least, I got the baby," she agreed. "Do you know how many times Ted has gotten up in the night for her? Or changed a diaper?"
I hazarded a guess. "None?"
"Exactly! None! Apparently men don't change diapers. I told him Garrett and Daniel change diapers. I remember Dad changed your diapers. Real men change goddamn diapers!" Serena shoved Victoria under her top, and a moment later, there was a wet, sucking sound. "But no, babies are women's work. I'm an accountant. I went to Harvard. Now all I do is change diapers."
"It's not forever," I assured her. "Things will change. In a couple of years, diapers will be a thing of the past."
"It's not the diapers, Lexi. It's the point. What am I now? The stay-at-home wife with the cheating husband that's she totally reliant on?"
"Maybe you need to change things."
"How? Get a divorce?"
"That's up to you," I said as gently as I could. "But you could start your own business. Everyone needs accountants. I need one." Dear God, did I need one. "You could work from home. You'd be able to look after Victoria and earn an income. You won't be reliant on Ted."
"Really? You really think I could do that?" Serena brightened. I don't think she'd ever asked me if I thought she could do something before. For a moment, I felt needed. It was nice.
"Really," I said. "I think you can do anything."
Serena smiled warmly. "I'll think about it."
"I'm here if you want to talk about it." I glanced at my watch and winced. I was going to be late. "Actually, I need to get back to work, but any other time. And Mom and Dad will help if you want to tell them. We all will. You're not alone."
"Thanks, Lexi. I wish I could just take Victoria and go away for a few days. A change of walls."
"Where would you go?"
"Somewhere that made me happy. Somewhere familiar and safe. Somewhere I wouldn't have to worry about Ted coming home, stinking of another woman’s perfume."
"You can always come over to mine if you need to get away," I said.
"Thanks again for this, Lex."
"No problem."
I stroked Victoria's foot goodbye and let myself out, hightailing it back to work. I'd solved my first case, but there was no lightness or happiness in my heart. Instead, I felt horrible that I'd borne the news; and worse, that I'd left Serena to deal with it alone.
Chapter Twelve
Ruby and Lily eyed at the costumes I held out to them and turned to look at each other.
"Seriously?" said Ruby, shaking out the t-shirt and holding it up. It was pale pink with a rainbow floating across the front from shoulder to hem, and a big red heart on the back. I estimated the size at seven-to-nine years. It was matched with a pair of teeny, white hotpants, along with glitter leg warmers too, just to add to their crazy-happy look.
"I kind of like it," said Lily. "It's cute. In fact, I think I used to have these when I was seven."
"It's only for an afternoon, and you can pick up your fee in cash from Sylvia."
Ruby shrugged. "You work in weird and mysterious ways," she said. “But as long as no one tries to spill beer on my boobs, well, whatever.”
"That's another thing." I shut the door and leaned against it, lowering my voice. "You can't tell anyone I do any kind of investigative stuff. Everyone here thinks I'm Killjoy's new assistant. That and only that."
Lily mimed zipping her mouth shut and Ruby nodded. "I won't say anything. Uh, who are you investigating?"
"Everyone, pretty much."
She nodded appreciatively. "Time consuming."
"Tell me about it. So, as a little favor, maybe you could be as dippy as possible and keep your ears open, in case someone says something."
"Like what?" asked Lily.
"Like, 'Guess what? I set the building on fire last night,' or 'Ooh, I think I'll sabotage the rotas later.' I don't know. Just listen in when you can."
"Aren't you supposed to be doing that?" asked Ruby.
"I am, but it's not as easy as it looks. A few more ears will help."
"Cool." Ruby nodded. "Where can we change?"
"There's a bathroom across the hall. Shout at me when you're ready and I'll take you to Sylvia; she can show you where you need to be. She's on my list at the moment."
Lily's eyes widened. "She's a suspect? Why?"
"Yeah. There's something hinky about her."
"Is she dangerous?" Lily blinked. I’m not sure, but she looked hopeful.
"No, at least, I don't think so."
"Did you bring your gun?"
"You have a gun!" Ruby's eyes widened. This was starting to sound like dinner at my parents all over again.
"It's at home," I assured them. "I'm not going to shoot anyone. I just want to catch him or her!"
Five minutes later, I had two pony girls in my office and it was hard to say who looked more thrilled about it. Lily had fully embraced the look by dividing her hair into pigtails, fluffing out her curls and adding colorful ribbons, looped into large bows. She filled out her t-shirt in a way only a woman in a kid’s shirt could; and the hotpants rode up high on her thighs, revealing long, shapely legs, still tanned from summer. Ruby, by contrast, looked like Slutty Pony. The hotpants were marginally too tight and slightly obscene from the back. The t-shirt finished half an inch past her bra band, and showed off her toned stomach. I had a brief moment of hating them both before being glad I wasn't the one playing dress up. Ruby wasn't quite as enthusiastic, but she was game and started doing star jumps and running on the spot. I wondered if it would be wise to get paramedics on standby, just in case she decided to touch her toes and caused grown men to faint.
"I like her," Ruby said to Lily while I handed them the event brochures. "This week, I got to play mystery woman for a sleazebag, and now I'm a pony girl. What are we doing next week?"
I didn't want to think about it. "I'll let you know."
"Wait until she gets your car totaled," said Lily.
“Ouch. That hurt,” I pouted. Earlier in the year, Lily's Mini had been rammed by an SUV while we were in it. We escaped without injury, but the Mini needed a new tailgate, and for a while, it was touch and go.
Sylvia chose that moment to knock on my door, preventing Ruby from asking why I'd totaled Lily's car. I waited while Sylvia gave them instructions, gushed her thanks profusely again, and instructed the new models to follow her.
When they were out of sight, I took a walk around the building, saying hello to the staff, waving to Peter, the concierge, and trying to keep out of the guests' way. It was important that the employees saw me, and my face became something recognizable to them. That way, the familiarity could start building in their minds, making them more open to me when I questioned them. Plus, the rumors were already flying that I wasn't the most successful assistant, and Killjoy was mad at me, which garnered me sympathy as well. I'd already used it to get an in with the bar staff, and there were more cookies from the kitchen when I returned (late) from lunch.
Nothing much was happening around the hotel. The staff were busy running their socks off and worrying about their futures, while the guests seemed oblivious to everything, which was good.
The only time I stopped was when Peter waved me over on my second pass through the lobby.
"I've just had a guest in three-oh-six call down to say her digital camera is missing," he told me quietly to avoid being overheard by the guests occupying the sofa in the corner of the lobby.
"Did she file a report?"
"Yes, but she wants the police called."
"Oh no!" I groaned. "Did you try and deter her?"
"Yes, but no dice."
"Okay, get her a complimentary whatever for her room, and apologize for the inconvenience. Please assure her we're doing everything we can to find it; and I'll tell Mr. Killjoy."
"Thank you, Lexi." Relief flooded Peter’s voice.
"Not a problem. Get yourself a glass of water and calm down, okay? This isn't your fault."
"I know, but it gets me worried. If one thing's missing, there's got to be more. It happens in spates."
"Sounds like you've been thinking about it a lot."
"I have. I look at housekeeping and think 'which one of you is it?' But that's the weird thing—the things that disappear, go missing long after housekeeping have left," he confided.
"So you think someone else is stealing?"
"Yeah, I guess. It's just a theory."
"Get that glass of water, and put on your happy face," I told Peter, patting his arm. "You're doing a great job."
With the canceled bookings this week, the new theft, and the potentially lethal fire of last night, mishaps were accelerating and the saboteur was clearly one step ahead of me. I wanted to speak to Sylvia again. What Peter said tallied with what I'd already guessed. Housekeeping would have the opportunity to go into the guests’ rooms and steal, but questions would be raised if they stepped into the kitchen. Plus, they wouldn't be able to access the hotel computers, though they could freely enter the staffroom. But then, so could any employee. There were very few who could go wherever they liked. I was curious to see if Sylvia had any theories and what her body language would be like when I questioned her.
After I got back to the conference room, I scanned the room, searching for Edward's favorite house manager. I saw the event organizer, Brian Williamson, in the corner with a local TV news crew, the interviewer busily touching up her makeup in a tiny compact mirror. Next to them stood a reporter, her face vaguely familiar, and a photographer. The Montgomery Gazette, I guessed, on a slow-to-no-news day, unless someone had tipped them off about the fire. I discounted that when the photographer gestured into the conference room. Brian glanced over, then towards me and waggled his fingers. I gave him a watery smile and moved on.
Continuing my search, I saw Lily giggling loudly, a small group of Bronies gathered about her. Their eyes grew wide and happy in the presence of a woman who didn't ridicule them. Ruby was handing out complimentary drinks, tall glasses of pink liquid, a cocktail umbrella perched on the rim of each one. I licked the inside of my dry mouth and wished I had one. I watched as she smacked a hand off her ass, turning a death glare on the perpetrator, who shrank back and hurried away, whinnying.
I navigated my way through the small groups of people until I spotted one of the black-clad events team.
"Have you seen Sylvia?" I asked.
"Over there. Near room one." I craned my head and could just see the side of Sylvia's head bobbing, her lips moving as she talked with someone. Stretching on my tiptoes, I saw Amanda Michaels in her white chef jacket. Amanda gestured wildly and I saw Sylvia make an attempt to shush her, as she looked around her worriedly. I bustled my way over to her, but got waylaid by a crowd near the “Super Ponies Through the Decades” exhibit.
It was no good. Every time I got within a few feet of Sylvia, she moved away. It was like we were partners in a weird dance. I took a step to the left, she spun two steps to the right, and further away with Amanda. I tried a quickstep towards her, past two grown men hugging gigantic, plush ponies to their chests, and she wheeled away. It was as if she really didn't want to talk to me right now. But I had to get closer to her. I had to know what she was saying to Amanda, the concern on her face evident.
I signaled furiously to Lily. On seeing me, she broke away from her gaggle of admirers and trotted over, arms pulled up to her chest and fingers tipped forwards, clearly taking the pony role very seriously.
"This is so much fun," she said, pretending to rear, then shaking her hair.
"Great. Look over my shoulder. You see Sylvia? I need to find out what she's saying."
"Why don't you just ask her?"
"Every time I move towards her, she gets a frightened look in her eye, and moves away." I grabbed Lily by the arm and led her backstage, away from prying ears. Sliding between the gaps in the side displays and through a door, we found ourselves in what looked like a small dressing room. It was empty.
"She's one of your suspects? Or is it the redhead?"
"The redhead is Amanda, the sous chef. Sylvia’s my top suspect, and I think she's planning something. I need to know what, and if Amanda is also involved," I added as an afterthought. I hoped she hadn’t sabotaged the cookies. They were so tasty.
"We need a disguise," said Lily, looking past me. “Then we can get closer.”
For a moment, I didn't know what Lily was talking about. Then she took a step past me and picked up something voluminous and pink, draped across a clothes rail. It took another long stare for me to grasp what Lily picked up.
"No way," I said.
"It's fabulous," said Lily, her eyes gleaming. "It's every girl's dream!"
"It's a nightmare!"
Lily and I both looked at the costume she now held in her arms. My hand reached forward of its own accord and stroked it. It was made of soft pink, faux fur. One part had the fur cleverly constructed around a stiff cage formed into a horse's head, with a brilliant multi-colored mane. It was beautifully combed and finished with colorful beads, while the body morphed into two hooved legs, and a long flap at the back, trimmed with Velcro. The other half was clearly the rear end. There were another pair of legs with black patent leather hooves and a sweeping tail that protruded proudly.
"Toss you for the head," said Lily, pulling a coin out of her pocket. "Heads for heads."
"Tails." The decision-making process was far too literal for me, but I won, so who cares? "I'm taking the head. You're the butt."
"Yay!" she said, clapping her hands and bouncing. "I feel my whole life has been leading up to this very moment. Oh, look, headsets. Do you think these work?"
Lily handed me one of the two headsets clipped to the costume. There was a small earpiece and a microphone. It was pretty hi-tech for a fancy dress costume, but at least, it would make our communication easier.
We slid the headsets on; then, trying to cover my mounting discomfort, I pulled the pony costume over my suit and fastened the thick band around my waist. The hooves barely covered my heels, and I had to hope no one would wonder why this Super Pony shopped at Nine West. I pulled the head on, and played about with my arms for a moment. It made sense to reach up through the neck and grip the cage of the head, giving the heavy prop a little more stability over my own normal-sized head.
"This is surprisingly comfortable," said Lily, her voice crackling through the headset. "I might have to get some furry pants."
"Just stop shaving your legs," I suggested. I heard the crackle of Velcro fastening the suit together, then Lily's hands went about the harness on my waist.
"I can't see a thing," she said. "You?"
"I think I'm looking through the nose. Just hang on and follow me. We'll sidle up to Sylvia, listen in and then we’ll go." I crossed my fingers inside the frame and hoped that Sylvia was still out there.
"Okay," said Lily. "Giddy-up."
By the time we got out of the backstage area, slinking not so unobtrusively into the open, we had just about sorted out our walking. I had no doubt that our gait didn't resemble an actual horse's in any way, but I was fairly certain no one gave a horse's poop. As we plodded through the main area, past the stalls, lots of the guests paused to stroke us and take pictures.
"Someone just squeezed my butt," said Lily, her voice a whisper in my ear through the headset. "I don't think you're supposed to do that to horses."
"Horses kick, you know."
"Good thinking."
I heard an “Ow!” somewhere behind us and had to fight hard no
t to laugh.
"Trot on," said Lily. "I don't want to get mounted."
An image of Lily and me, splayed on the floor, with a fat man squashed between us flashed into my mind. Or, even worse, Brian. "Me neither," I said, pointing the head towards where I last saw Sylvia. We plodded around for a bit until I spotted her, still talking with Amanda.
"Straight ahead. Follow me!"
"Good idea," said Lily, dryly. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I got as close to Sylvia as I could, and stood there, trying to look winsome and not like I was a eavesdropping. Come to think of it now, we probably didn’t make the Super Ponies’ get-up look like the most unobtrusive thing in the world. I held my breath as Sylvia looked over us, shaking her head in disbelief before turning back to Amanda.
I edged closer, Lily shuffling behind me.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Shh! I'm listening." I watched as Amanda took something from her pocket and handed it to Sylvia. I couldn't see what it was; though judging from the way Sylvia's arms moved, I think she opened it, took a look at whatever it was, then stuffed it into her pocket. She sighed, gave her hair a quick shake and said something. "I can't hear anything," I whispered.
"Let's get closer."
I edged another couple of footsteps closer, until I was only a foot or two away and held perfectly still, hoping that the six-foot-tall, pink, plush pony staring at them wasn’t too off-putting. Sylvia turned and looked at us again; and I tried playing nonchalant, which was harder than it sounds when you’re a freaking pony.
"You need to tell him," I heard Amanda say.
"I will," said Sylvia.
"He's worried all the time. All he thinks about is everything that's happened. He can't concentrate."
"If I tell him, it'll make things worse," Sylvia replied.
"What could be worse than...” Amanda didn't finish her sentence because at that moment I felt a bump behind us. Lily squealed and someone giggled, the sound muffled by the head frame.
"Something is attacking me!" Lily shrieked, and I winced as the feedback reverberated around my head.
"What?" I wheeled around, almost knocking us off balance as I lost my grip on the head. I righted it just in time to see Lily's hoof strike out and catch a purple pony in the region on a horse that would be the testicles. I suspected by the hollow scream, that it was roughly the same place for the man in the back end of the suit. The front end did a little dance and crossed his legs, while the back end sank to his knees, the faux fur material pulling taut between them. I swung my head and butted the other pony, and we had to jump back as it charged us, dragging the back end behind it, the legs scrambling for purchase.
Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries) Page 18
