The auto-bot approached a door that slid open, revealing a walk-in closet. Once inside, it flattened to the ground, and appendages emerged from both sides. In minutes, the SDV unloaded the luggage, putting the two bulkiest pieces on luggage stands, and then hanging the bags containing our dress clothes. I watched as the swift bot stashed shoes and other items neatly in a corner.
"I wish I could tip him, um, it," Jack whispered as the surprisingly nimble machine stowed the appendages that it had used almost like hands, and left the closet.
"Sorry, Jack," Felix replied. "At Max's insistence, there's no tipping allowed."
"Well done, bot. You may go." As the tiny vehicle spun around, both cats that had crept close when it quit moving jumped a foot off the ground.
"You can go now too, Felix," Jack added. I kicked off my shoes and stowed my purse in the nearest drawer.
"Are you sure? I was going to show you around. There's a chilled bottle of champagne in the fridge along with snacks. Treats for Miles and Ella too!"
That got their attention, and they both popped out from under the bed. Miles bellowed.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Felix asked.
"No. That was Miles asking for his treats. I'll get them."
"How cute that the cat speaks!" Felix continued as Jack, and I headed back through the spacious sitting room to the kitchen and dining areas. "Treats are only one of the delightful things about this suite. How about a cozy fire and seasonal music to go with the champagne?"
Felix didn't wait for us to answer. One of Jack's favorite jazz singers, Kay Garland, began to sing a sweet, dreamy version of White Christmas. A fire was crackling by the time we reached the fireplace.
"It's been good talking to you, Felix. Thanks for all your help, but I'll take it from here. Goodnight."
"Goooood nnnnight," Felix uttered as Jack waved his hand.
*****
"Quake!" I shouted as I grabbed Ella from my lap and dove under the dining table in our Penthouse Suite, which turned out to be even more impressive in the daylight. Jutting out, almost like a treehouse on a tree limb, we had three-hundred sixty-degree-views with the blinds open.
We'd just finished breakfast on our third morning in the lavish hotel when the shaking began.
Max had kept his word not to intrude, although it was beginning to worry me that he hadn't called to arrange our dinner date. We'd had two gloriously peaceful days exploring Max's strange new world taking shape in New Arcadia. I should have known that wouldn't last.
"Don't worry," Jack said as he picked up Miles and followed me under the table. "Max claims his architects and engineers designed this hotel to withstand the biggest quake Mother Nature can unleash."
As the room continued to shimmy and shake, Jack appeared less confident. I was fighting the urge to bolt, but where would I go?
"If this isn't 'the big one,' I don't want to be around for it," I grumbled. Rattling sounds came from all around us, and the entire hotel swayed—or rolled was more like it. "Are you sure this place isn't going to sink like the Titanic? We might as well be in a storm at sea."
"It's supposed to roll, Georgie. The entire building has flexible joints that can slide with the quake's motion."
"What's the rattling noise?" I asked just as I heard a soft plop as my laptop settled onto the carpet nearby after sliding off the table above us.
"Probably the blinds and windows. The items in drawers and cupboards, too, although magnetic locks are activated once the motion reaches a certain level. We'd hear more than rattling if the cupboards and drawers were flapping, and stuff was spilling all over the floor. These quakes don't last more than a minute or two. It'll be over soon."
As Jack spoke, the motion lessened and then stopped. The cats, who usually demand an explanation for unusual human behavior like sitting on the floor under a table, hadn't squirmed or made a sound. No purring from them either, though.
"Whew!" I said, scooting toward the edge of the solidly built, exotic-wood table that could seat eight for dinner, more if you added another leaf. Its size didn't matter since Jack and I weren't planning to have any dinner parties. I was grateful for the table's size, though, if it didn't collapse and flatten me like a pancake. I wanted to check to see if my laptop had survived.
"What's that sound?" Jack asked, putting a hand on my arm to keep me from going anywhere. A low rumble grew louder as if it were moving closer.
"Aftershock?" I asked. My answer was a blast that shifted the entire hotel building in one direction all at once. The windows didn't rattle but made an oomph sound—like a person who's had the wind knocked out of them. The building righted itself as the motion and noise stopped.
"That was no quake," Jack declared.
2 Ready or Not, You're It!
When our phones rang thirty seconds later, Jack jumped, and I yelped. The cats wriggled free and took off. They headed for the kitchen rather than the master bedroom, which was a good sign that the danger had passed.
"Hello," Jack said. Getting out from under the table quicker than I could, he reached for his phone first.
"What kind of explosion, Frank?" He asked. I ran to pick up my phone, hoping whoever was on the other end could explain what was going on.
"Georgie, are you okay?" Carol Ripley, my Executive Assistant, asked.
"Yes. We're fine. How did you know anything was wrong?"
"I was on my computer when I got an alert. Initially, the USGS reported seismographs registered a 6.2 quake in Palm Springs. There's a new banner saying it was an explosion, not a quake. Two explosions in North Palms Springs in or near New Arcadia. Is that true?"
"I don't know what's happened. Jack's on the phone with Frank Fontana. Hang on while I ask."
"Jack, Carol wants to know if reports that two explosions have been reported here in New Arcadia are true."
"Yes," he whispered, covering the phone as he spoke to me, then quickly getting back to Frank.
"Please go on, Frank."
"Who's Frank Fontana?" Carol asked in an anxious tone.
"Frank's one of the police officers that Jack has been working with while consulting for Max. Frank's the head of their violent crime unit in the North Palm Springs Police Department. He's New Arcadia's counterpart to Jack. I'm sure I mentioned we had dinner with him a while ago when Frank accepted the position."
"Now, I remember. Jack interviewed Detective Fontana for the job. You had dinner with him and Jessica Huntington, too, right? She's the heiress who was in the news about getting a young guy released from prison."
"That's them," I said. "Hang on a second while I look outside. Maybe I can see what's happened."
I was grateful, Jack and I had dressed before we'd eaten breakfast. We'd planned to visit the Biodomes and stroll among the different gardens designed in keeping with the resort's garden theme. Each diverse habitat in a weather-controlled dome is linked to sealed corridors with airlocks to prevent plants, birds, butterflies, or other small critters from escaping from one habitat to another.
We won't see those gardens now, I thought wistfully, wondering if the domes, and the gardens beneath them, were still intact after the series of incidents we'd just gone through.
Our suite was virtually soundproof, but I heard the faint whine of sirens and horns blasting. I opened the French doors that led to our expansive balcony. We had fantastic views of the mountains on both sides of the resort and the city of New Arcadia. A golf course beckoned to us from in front of the hotel. Below us, and behind the hotel, a private recreation offered guests swimming pools, tennis courts, a spa, and a path wandering between the biodomes.
In front of the hotel, I could also glimpse the green spaces, homes, shops, and other buildings in one of New Arcadia's first neighborhoods. Max hoped to welcome the first residents to their homes in "Tomorrow's City, Today!" early in the new year. Farther out, where development appeared to be underway, plumes of smoke rose into the sky.
"I see smoke, Carol, but it's in the dis
tance." I stepped closer to the far end of the veranda to get a better view. Strains of Frank Sinatra, singing Blue Christmas, reached me first, followed by horn blasts and screeching sirens. They were louder but not constant, even though I could see police and fire department vehicles racing toward the smoke. Ambulances and rescue squad vehicles were in the mix too.
Why aren't they using the underground roadways? I wondered.
People milled around on the patios and pool areas below as if in a daze. Dressed in Marvelous Marley World uniforms, it was clear some were employees. Others who must be guests huddled together speaking to each other or staff members. Several were on their cellphones like me.
I moved back toward the French doors, suddenly worried that I'd left them open. So far, Miles and Ella hadn't shown much interest in getting out onto the veranda, but I wasn't taking any chances given my distracted state of mind. Before I went back inside, I spoke to Carol again.
"Have any more details been posted about where the explosions occurred or what caused them?"
"Near the northeastern corner of New Arcadia where a new underground command center was about to open to monitor and route traffic," Jack said, replying to my question instead of Carol.
"Did you hear what Jack just said about the location of the explosions?" I asked Carol.
"Yes. How bad is it?" Carol asked.
"I can't tell since we're miles away, and there's smoke in the way. We felt the percussion from the blast this far away, so it must have done substantial damage," I said, staring at the roiling clouds of smoke. "Hang on. The wind has shifted. I can see a dark spot on the horizon and what must be huge chunks of debris scattered around the hole created by the explosion. Smoke's pouring from it. Oh no! Flames too!"
People on the patios below echoed my exclamation. A woman shrieked, and others shouted, demanding to know what was going on. A woman who'd been swimming or sunbathing before the trouble began grabbed her belongings and fled indoors. Simultaneously, others ran outside in front of the hotel to see what had led to the latest outcries. They were too late because the wind had shifted again, and all we could see was smoke.
"It looks awful, although the wind changed, so the smoke is blocking my view again." I reached out to let myself back inside when the presence of the ambulance finally registered on me. "Jack, were there people in the command center when the blast occurred? Are they okay?"
"I wish I could tell you that. Frank claims they received an odd message from someone inside the command center control room before the first blast. Then a 'mayday' before communications completely went down. They're trying to reinstate contact, which has to happen before anyone can answer your question." Jack quit speaking, but I could tell he had more to say.
"What is it?" I asked as he fixed me with his gaze.
"Max has been escorting a group of dignitaries around New Arcadia the past couple of days. Taking them to the command center was on the agenda for this morning."
"No," I said, feeling lightheaded.
"No, what? What did Jack say?" Carol asked. The roar of a helicopter flying low overhead forced me back indoors. I searched for a remote, hoping the aircraft might be collecting footage of the blast site.
"Carol, Max may have been at the site of the explosion this morning," I responded as I watched the film being shot by the helicopter circling above an ugly gash. Metal protruded outward from the blast's center with metal chunks strewn around the opening. The helicopter abruptly rose as flames shot skyward.
"Felix," I suddenly said.
"Yes, Georgie. First, may I say how sorry I am for the distress caused by…"
"Apology accepted. Felix, call Max Marley for me, please."
"He's not taking calls," Felix replied seconds later.
"What do you mean he's not taking calls?" I asked.
"A voice mail reply on his cellphone says he does not want to be disturbed at this time."
"Carol, will you please call Max's office and ask when they last heard from him? Also, find out how I can reach Charlie Magnum. He's Max's stand-in and presumed successor if..." I choked on the words. "Someone in authority needs to speak on behalf of the company until we understand what's happened."
"I'm on it," Carol replied. "I'll call you right back, although Rita in the CFO's office may have Charlie call you. He may not know you're already on site. I'll make sure she tells him."
"Thanks, Carol. I'll call Stacy in the PR department to see how soon she can get here." Carol didn't respond, so I don't know if she was still on the line to hear my last comment.
"Those are wise moves, Georgie," Felix's disembodied voice said with a tone of what I could have sworn was anxiety. "It's not like Max not to already be issuing orders."
"Even if he doesn't want to take a call, can't you locate him? He and the members of the party he's been showing around must be wearing I.D. tags."
"Those only work when you're within range and…er um…still alive," Felix replied.
The lightheadedness returned. Jack had put his phone away and was slipping on his shoes as if he were getting ready to leave.
"You already knew what Felix just told me, didn't you?" I asked.
"Yes. Max and his visitors attended an early breakfast meeting held in one of the Visitor Center conference rooms. A driver picked them up in a New Arcadia minibus, and that's the last anyone claims to have seen or heard from Max or his guests. According to his itinerary, they were on their way to the transportation entrance we used when we arrived. That was supposed to take them to the newly opened control center to observe a test run of the outermost loop's final link. After that, they would be the first to experience loop trips around the entire perimeter of New Arcadia."
"How long was that before the blasts occurred?"
"I can tell you that," Felix replied. "Eighteen minutes, thirty-four seconds…"
"That's fine, Felix. Thank you," Jack said.
"Long enough for them to have reached the control room," I muttered.
"Yes, that's what we're assuming," Jack replied, looking as grim as I'd ever seen him since we met. "Frank is picking me up, and we're going to the site to coordinate with the rescuers—and yes, I do mean rescuers. Until further notice, we're assuming the people in that control room are still alive, and the tracking system is malfunctioning."
"You and Frank won't do anything stupid like climb down into that hot mess in the hopes you can do a rescue squad's work, right?"
"That's not in the plans, sweetheart. First, the fire department has to quench the blaze. The 29 Palms Marine base, which is sending help, will use heavy equipment to clear the debris, and a bomb squad will check for explosives. Max's engineers have a few tricks up their sleeves too. The engineering team already has drones checking the tunnels. They'll get as close to the wreckage as they can until it gets too hot. The drones give us eyes on the scene without going underground. Versions of the things that look like spiders are also working on extinguishing the fire. Other bots are searching the entire tunnel system, sniffing for explosives, looking for stray objects, or other anomalies. We're traveling overground, and no one will be allowed to use the tunnels until we're sure the system is safe."
"What do you recommend we do about the guests and employees? Or has Frank already given instructions to the hotel staff and Marley World officials?"
"Georgie, you are the only Marley World official anyone has been able to reach. It's only been minutes since the blasts, so you also know more than anyone else about the situation anyway. Ready or not, you're it! I'll leave it to you and your team here in New Arcadia to decide what to do about guests and employees, but I want you out of here."
"What team?" I complained. "I suppose Emergency Management 101 would recommend we evacuate the place until you tell us otherwise."
"It won't take that long, now that the spider bots are on it. Once they conduct a thorough sweep to make sure there aren't explosives set anywhere in the hotel or other resort areas, their human security counterparts will
do a follow-up."
"Does that mean you're assuming the blast is a result of sabotage or terrorism and not an accident?" I asked.
"We don't know yet. I'm with Frank that we assume the worst for the time being. For now, the Visitor Center is clear and secure. Monitors integrated into the construction of the buildings and tunnels throughout New Arcadia indicate they're structurally sound. That's true for the tunnels and structures up to within a mile of the blast zone. Eventually, the architects and engineers will have their chance to inspect everything rather than rely on electronic data and security personnel."
"I understand. It's better to be safe than sorry and get guests and nonessential workers out of here. Max's minivans and light-buses can carry guests overland to the Visitor Center. Staff from guest services can go with them to assist with changes in their travel plans once they reach the Visitor Center."
"That sounds fine to me. Can you try to keep as many guests as possible in the Coachella Valley? Frank's dad and other officers from the Palm Springs Police force want to interview everyone present during the explosions and at the hotel for the past couple of days. We're hoping someone saw or heard something that could help. Frank has already had officers question the early risers who were out on the golf course."
"I'll do my best. In the meantime, officers could question guests while they're waiting for transportation to another hotel. For most guests, it should be a short conversation. Most are people like us who already have a relationship with Marvelous Marley World or an affiliate. I bet anyone who has something to say will be happy to speak to the officers. I wish I could speak to Charlie first, but I'll tell Kendra to pick up the tab for their visit so far and any additional expenses if they agree to stay in the area for another day or two."
"Okay. Once we have identification and contact information, anyone who insists on leaving can go. Keep someone hotel security in the loop. If a guest can't be properly identified or accounted for, the staff in guest services needs security to question them or find out why they're missing."
A Merry Christmas Anniversary Mystery Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #9 (Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Series) Page 2
