Dirty Deeds

by Christy Barritt

  “I decided to step it up a notch. Ballet flats somehow seem classier than my normal flip flops.” So did the nautical wear I’d seen on sale downstairs, but a girl had to have some standards.

  “You look cute in either.”

  “I knew there was a reason I wanted to marry you.” I grabbed my purse. “Let’s go.”

  We started down the hallway. I tried to remember my posture and to keep my chin up. I’d been perfecting the act of drinking with my pinky in the air, so I’d be all set come breakfast this morning. Hoity-toity, as Deanna the maid had said.

  “So, what’s the update on Jackie?” I asked. “Have you heard anything?”

  “Her mom is on her way into town early this morning, and two of Clint’s friends are here for him.”

  His friends? Were they the guys I’d seen him with last night?

  Riley continued. “I think they all want their privacy. Derek and I stopped by to see Clint this morning, and he said they didn’t need anything. They were going to follow the kidnapper’s instructions, and he’d let us know what happened.”

  “And that’s that? It just seems like we should be doing something.”

  Riley shook his head. “That’s your modus operandi. Speaking of which, I’m proud of you. I half expected you to be out all night looking for answers.”

  I pointed to myself, guilt pounding at me. “Me? I’m a changed person. What can I say?”

  By all definitions, I wasn’t searching for answers. I was just asking questions. There was a difference.

  Riley squeezed my hand. “I’ll check in on them later today, but there’s not much I can do. They’re just waiting all of this out. None of us really know Clint.”

  “What was Jackie like? I mean, what is Jackie like?” I corrected myself.

  “She’s a great girl. I hate to think of her going through this nightmare. She’s a bit of a space cadet, almost made it to pro tennis status, and her family has more homes than I can count.”

  “Must be nice.”

  He cast a lingering glance my way, slowing his pace for a moment. “How are you doing? I know this is probably bringing up bad memories for you.”

  Leave it to Riley to be the thoughtful one. My brother had been kidnapped when I was a child. My family had never gotten a ransom note or any contact with his abductors, for that matter. We went years with nothing, and that very nothing had torn my family apart. Just within the past couple of months, my brother had shown back up in my life.

  “I’m doing okay. I’m grateful, grateful that I got a happy ending after all of those years.” Tim had turned out just fine, despite the trauma in his life. I was happy to have him living only fifteen minutes from me now and to be able to reconnect.

  We stopped in front of a dining room. My eyebrows took on a mind of their own and shot up toward the ceiling. Wow. My jeans and ballet flats just didn’t seem sufficient for the linen tablecloths, tuxedoed wait staff, and multiple pieces of silverware.

  “You’re going to love this,” Riley insisted. He squeezed my hand and pulled me inside.

  I’d been joking about raising my pinky while drinking, but maybe it was no laughing matter. This was just the type of place where I was bound to trip into a vat full of sugary strawberries or accidentally knock the candle over and catch a tablecloth on fire.

  The maître d' led us to a group of Riley’s friends. Derek and Lillian were sitting with Jack at a table for four. Instead, Riley and I sat at a table beside them.

  I overheard Derek bragging to Lillian and Jack about how he got a car thief off on charges because the police had mishandled his arrest.

  I was really glad I wasn’t sitting with them because I might not be able to bite my tongue. I was so glad that Riley didn’t defend scumbags. The whole “true love conquers all” thing would be invalid if he did. True love did not conquer unscrupulous behavior.

  Besides, I was grateful to have a moment alone with Riley. But no sooner had we sat down than someone pulled out a seat between us. Lane “Big Head” Rosenblum.

  “Any updates?” Lane shook out his napkin and placed it across his lap.

  Riley shook his head.

  “I just want to jump in and stop Clint from all of these bad decisions he’s making. He should call the police.” Lane signaled for the waiter to fill his coffee mug.

  The man looked so at ease with people waiting on him, like he’d done this a million times before. Was he used to having people wipe his mouth and feed him grapes as well? Too bad he wasn’t quite as experienced when it came to picking out his clothes.

  “Jackie was . . . ” Lane shook his head, his cup of coffee suspended mid-air. “I don’t know. She was always a dreamer, you know? Nothing ever got in the way of her getting what she wanted.” He paused. “I can’t believe I almost married her. That seems like another lifetime ago.”

  “Speaking of which, I thought you were bringing some new girl you met.” Riley took a sip of his coffee.

  I, in the meantime, watched the conversation like a ping-pong game. Back and forth. Back and forth. I thought it was safer this way. I’d rather Riley’s friends think of me as quiet than as an idiot. I knew I wasn’t an idiot, but other people did accuse me at times of being opinionated, headstrong, and persistent.

  Lane grinned. “I am. She should be here tonight.”

  Riley slathered some butter on a biscuit he pulled from the basket on the table. “Aren’t you going to tell us about her?”

  “I thought I’d just wait until she got here and introduce you. She’s incredible. The total package, from her looks to her brains. You’re going to really love her.”

  Before Lane could gush anymore, a man approached our table. He wore a business suit, not one of the standard-issue formalwear pieces that the rest of the staff did. He had a wide forehead, thinning hair, and wire-framed glasses. “Good morning. I do hope you’re enjoying your stay here at Allendale Acres. Your satisfaction is our top priority.”

  Riley nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “If there’s anything we can do for you, please let us know. I do hope you enjoy your visit.” He hurried to the next table. I wondered what his persona was outside of the hotel, just as Deanna had talked to me about last night. Did he make stills of moonshine? Trick out his car?

  Nah, I just couldn’t see it.

  As the man recited his same spiel at the next table, I wanted to raise my eyebrows at the over-the-top customer service, but I didn’t. Score one for Gabby. I could perhaps go this whole week without mocking rich, affluent people once. It wasn’t likely, but it could happen.

  Just then, I noticed a man walk past the table. His skin was dark, his hair darker, and he had a colorful silk sash around his midsection. I knew exactly who he was.

  Deanna’s dream man.

  I stood, regretfully jostling the table as I did. “I’ve got to find out if that man is single.”

  Riley’s eyebrows knotted together, and his head lurched forward in confusion. “Say what?”

  I shook my head, my cheeks warming. “That’s not how it sounded. It’s a long story, actually. I’ll be right back.”

  Before anyone could object, I started after the Middle Eastern/Indian man the maid had talked about last night. I’d told her I’d find out if he was single. She said that if I did, she’d find a way to show me the security footage. This sounded like a win-win to me.

  How exactly I was going to do this, I had no idea. But I’d find a way. Somehow.

  I walked at a quick clip behind the man, my mind racing, when I heard someone hiss, “Gabby!”

  I jerked my gaze to the side. Deanna stood there, in an alcove where no one else would spot her. She’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, so obviously her shift was over. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching before slipping beside her. “What’s going on?”

  She pointed toward the distance. “That’s him!”

  “I know! The hot dignitary.” I leaned closer. “So, you just think he’s hot or you real
ly like him?”

  She sighed and put a hand over her heart. “He’s like a Casanova. You don’t understand. He picked up my feather duster when I dropped it. He smiles and it melts my heart. He actually sees me, a member of the cleaning staff . . . ” She shook her head, seeming to snap back to reality. “It’s like we’re invisible sometimes.”

  My heart panged. I could understand that. That fact often helped me in my investigations, though. “He sounds like a winner.”

  “None of the maids can figure out his status. Believe me, they’ve tried. Do you really think you can?”

  I shrugged casually, trying to ignore the scent of bacon and my stomach’s Pavlovian response of growling with hunger. “I can find out a lot of things.”

  She glanced to the side and nibbled on her fingernail a moment before looking back at me. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

  “I won’t tell.” She was awfully concerned about getting in trouble, yet that didn’t seem to deter her. I knew there was a reason I liked Deanna.

  She leaned closer. “And that solution you gave me for wine? Brilliant. Worked like a charm. I’m like the superhero housecleaner of my shift.”

  I straightened my shirt and emerged, trying to look like I was supposed to be hiding in a nook talking to one of the maids, like this was nothing unusual. A quick perusal of the room, and I spotted the Mr. Hottie in the corner, tapping away at a computer while eating a muffin . . . with his pinky raised. I almost wanted to snicker, but I didn’t.

  I took a step forward. Here goes nothing.

  I “accidentally” knocked into his chair with my purse. My purse, then in response, fell to the floor. Out rolled my lip balm, wallet, my cell phone, a sheet of fake mustaches, and . . . a book called Guide to Poisons. I’d forgotten that was in there. You never knew when I might have a free moment to read up on deadly substances, though. It was only for my job.

  Of course.

  I squatted down. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t spill your coffee, did I?”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he reached for the floor. “No, not at all.”

  I grabbed the book and shoved it to the bottom of my purse, hoping that I didn’t seem too creepy by carrying the guide. “I’m so clumsy sometimes.”

  “It is busy in here. Understandable.” He handed me my wallet. His words were clipped with an accent I couldn’t quite identify.

  I finished gathering everything, heaved my purse onto my shoulder, and stood. I extended my hand. “I’m Gabby, by the way. Gabby St. Claire.”

  “I am Ajay.” His accent was thick, but understandable, and he certainly was handsome, just as Deanna had said.

  “Love the accent. Where are you from?”

  “India.”

  “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there.”

  He smiled. “It is unmatched. But this Virginia in the United States is nice as well.”

  “What brings you here?” I pulled my purse up tighter, trying to appear casual. I was not someone who instantly made friends wherever I went or who didn’t know a stranger. But, at times when life demanded it, I reached deep down inside myself and made it happen. For the sake of truth.

  He stared at me a moment. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  I waved my hand in the air as if trying to brush away his uncertainties. “I’m sorry. I’m a little too talkative for my own good.”

  He stared at me a moment, that same small smile on his face. “Do not apologize. Your kindness is refreshing. I am here to get away from it all, as you Americans say.”

  “By yourself?”

  He chuckled again. “Yes, by myself.”

  “Sounds relaxing, but don’t you miss your family?” I tugged at my collar as I realized I was pushing a little too hard. But in the distance, I could see Deanna nodding at me from behind the alcove. She was counting on me. And, though I didn’t know the woman, I didn’t want to let her down.

  It was twisted logic. I knew that. But it was all I had at the moment.

  He offered a sad smile before shaking his head. “I am what you call unattached. So, no, there is no one to miss me. Not really.”

  I nodded. The grief and melancholy in his eyes made my guilt pound even harder. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know you’ll have a wonderful stay here, though.”

  He nodded crisply and stared into the distance a moment. “I hope I will Miss St. Claire. If I meet more people like you, I am sure I will.”

  I nearly blushed. Which wasn’t good, because I was engaged. Happily engaged at that. Just because this man had a rockin’ accent and a tragic past didn’t mean I was attracted to him.

  It did, however, mean that he should apply to be on The Bachelor or one of those other reality dating shows. Those bachelorettes would swoon all over him. It would be ratings gold.

  I cleared my throat. “I should go.”

  He nodded slightly, almost like a mini-bow. “Take care.”

  I released a deep breath as I walked away. Okay, I had Deanna’s answer. Now I hoped that Deanna would help find one for me as well.

  CHAPTER 7

  Riley disappeared to his conference, and I still had four hours to kill before I met Deanna and her friend from security. I’d been surprised at his lack of questioning to what I’d been up to, but maybe that just went to show how much he trusted me now. Our relationship had come a long way.

  Riley had told me on the way here that I should go down to the spa and utilize some of the services there. Or maybe get some sun or play in the pool. You know, things that normal people did on vacation.

  But I was still thinking about Jackie-O and Clint.

  I was thinking about Riley’s friends and how different they seemed than him. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. But not the group of people I’d met here.

  Riley’s friends, in the brief amount of time I’d been around them, seemed so into themselves and money and titles. Riley had given up what most people considered “the good life” in order to help people. I’d imagined him hanging out with other do-gooders, not people who seemed so . . . I’d never used this word before—and a part of me inwardly rebelled against it—but “worldly.”

  I glanced around at the people passing by. Some were well dressed. Some were eccentric. I wasn’t sure what it was that screamed “rich” when I looked at them. Maybe it was just the way they carried themselves. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact differences.

  Just for the record, I really didn’t have anything against rich people. If someone who was a part of the “One Percent” wanted to come to my house for dinner, then they were more than welcome.

  Maybe there was just a part of me who was more Robin Hood than James Bond. I liked helping commoners who had little resources at their disposal. The rich had so many advantages just because they had money.

  Or maybe I was uncomfortable around wealth because of Carina Armstrong. Carina had gone to high school with me and never missed an opportunity to remind me that she thought she was better than I was. Truth be told, I didn’t really care. I was happy with myself, so that was all that mattered. That’s not to say that I wasn’t at fault for that science experiment that went wrong, resulting in Carina’s hands being stained green for two weeks.

  I paused in the lobby, near the concierge. I took a step toward her, ready to ask about something asinine like how to sign up for a falconry course. Before I could, a deep voice sounded behind me.

  “You’ve really done a number on Riley, haven’t you?”

  I turned and spotted Derek “Playboy” Waters. He stood behind me with a twinkle in his overly confident eyes. He stood close—too close—with his hands stuffed casually into his pockets.

  I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, certain I hadn’t heard correctly. “What was that?”

  He shrugged, that same satisfied smirk on his face. “Riley. He’s . . . he’s different. He’s changed since I saw him last.”

  I shrugged, really not sure what to say, which was unusual for me. “People do change.”
I certainly had. In fact, I’d changed mostly since I’d met Riley, and it was all for the best. He’d shown me how empty my life was before. Not before him, but before I understood how desperately I needed Jesus.

  There was a time when I’d never thought I’d say those words. Now I couldn’t imagine not saying them.

  “All right.” Derek looked me up and down like I’d just offended him. “I’m just saying I never thought I’d see the day when Riley Thomas would turn down a party.”

  I nearly choked. Thankfully I didn’t have anything in my mouth or it would have been ugly. I tapped my chest just to make sure I hadn’t gone into shock. “We must be talking about the wrong person.”

  Derek grinned, his eyes lighting with amusement. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  He nodded in that very urban, uppity manner that seemed to fit him so well. “You’ll have to ask him about it.”

  My brain whirled faster than a computer at NASA. “I will. Believe me.”

  Just then, Ajay rounded the corner. “Miss St. Claire!”

  I caught a quick glimpse of Derek. Why were his eyes dancing in amusement? It almost seemed like he was making assumptions that he shouldn’t be making. The little turd.

  Ajay held out something in his hands. “You left this.” He handed me some lip balm I’d left at his table.

  I blushed as I took it from him, which was ridiculous. There was just something so chivalrous about the man, something that time seemed to leave behind as a relic of the past. Even Riley, who was extremely considerate, didn’t seem quite as charming when he treated me like a lady. “Thanks. Sorry about that.”

  “No, really, it was my pleasure.” He offered a slight bow before continuing on his way.

  When I looked up, Derek’s eyebrows were suspended and a sly grin stretched across his lips. “Interesting.”

  My hands went to my hips. “What’s interesting?”

  “This can be our secret, Gabby.”

  My eyes widened, and I shook my head. “It’s not like that.” I was going to have to pull out some crime scene stories here soon, just to horrify him enough to change the subject. It worked every time.