“Goodness no. I’m the only student in our contingent. The other three are just here as tourists, soaking up the local sunshine and culture. And providing me with some moral support on my new endeavor.”
Lewis stole an exaggerated glance at her wristwatch. “Well, it’s an honor to meet you, Your Honor. I’ll look forward to seeing more of you. Unfortunately, right now, I’m afraid I have an upcoming panel session that requires my support.”
How many times have I heard that—an honor, your honor. “Yes, of course, Ms. Lewis. I won’t delay you further. I just have one quick question. If I may? What has become of Ms. Lasko and Mr. Llewellyn?”
“Pardon me?”
Brooks made direct eye contact with Lewis. “I was at the session yesterday morning when Mr. Llewellyn was scheduled to speak. He failed to appear. At the last moment, I presume, because you took his place, and your bio does not reference any publishing credentials, the subject on which Mr. Llewellyn was to have spoken, leading me to believe that you were caught unawares by Mr. Llewellyn’s absence and having to make do on the fly. Which I might add I thought you did very well under the circumstances. When I mentioned this curiosity in passing to a new acquaintance who I met here at the retreat, I was told that Ms. Lasko was similarly missing at the last moment from her Monday Virtuoso class.” No reason to confess that I only indirectly learned of Lasko’s absenteeism from some barroom gossip Lotello overheard.
Lewis was visibly disturbed. She abruptly broke Brooks’s exaggerated stare. “Just last-minute routine conflicts. Happens all the time. Please don’t concern yourself about it. I really do have to run. See you again.” She gave Brooks no opportunity to say anything further.
Brooks watched Lewis scurry away before he could say anything further. Have to run? Run where? What was she unwilling to tell me?
LEWIS HAD JUST SECONDS to recover from Brooks’s confrontation, and to get to her introduction, but enough time to make sure her lip gloss and long blonde curls were organized just so. I’ll make it okay, maybe a moment late. Not the end of the world. But Brooks’s observation is another matter. If he’s aware that both Lasko and Llewellyn are MIA, who else might be as well? And who else might Brooks tell? I need to gather our troops and tell them about Brooks. And his traveling companion, Lotello. Homicide Detective Lotello.
JUDGE BROOKS? A PROFESSIONAL snoop? And messing around in someone else’s business. My business. Might have missed that if not for the spyware in Lewis’s ever present smartphone. Better find out if Brooks has a smartphone I can access. Not about to let him interfere with my plans.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Day Two, 2:55 p.m.
BROOK’S MORNING SEMINARS PROVED uneventful. More precisely, they were each informative, and all of the speakers appeared as scheduled. The same could not be said of the afternoon presenters.
On his way to the three o’clock program Brooks picked out to attend, he bumped into George Enright, one of the Philadelphian authors with whom he had lunched the day before. “Greetings, Mr. Enright. How’s your day going?”
“Oh, hello, Judge Brooks. Great. But the strangest thing happened at my one o’clock session. The subject was public relations for authors. Two publicists were listed to speak. One of them, an Arianna Simpson, was a no-show. Program Director Lisa Lewis was there to introduce the two speakers. It could be my imagination, but she seemed surprised not to find Simpson there. I could see that the other scheduled publicist, Marilyn West, was caught off guard as well. Lewis tried to make light of Simpson’s absence. She said that Simpson was under the weather and that she would be taking Simpson’s place. But Lewis hardly said a word during the entire hour. She definitely seemed off her game. I had the sense there was more to Simpson’s absence than an upset stomach. However, West handled it nicely. More PR exposure for her, I suppose.”
Enright looked at his watch. “Gotta run. I’m on the way to practice my pitch for my latest manuscript, which I will use tomorrow afternoon at Pitch Gala. I can stick with my existing indie publisher, but I’m hoping to corral a literary agent who will land me a deal with one of the big-five publishing houses. Move me up to the big leagues. Enjoy your afternoon.”
“Good luck with that tomorrow, Mr. Enright. Break a leg, as they say.” Hope something worse than a broken leg doesn’t explain Ms. Simpson’s absence. Brooks grabbed his cell phone out of his leather envelope and sent a quick text to Lotello.
NICE TO SEE THAT Enright turned our ever so nosy Brooksie onto Simpson’s disappearance. But, hey, that was just a matter of time, anyway. Besides, that’s all good, isn’t it? Not pleased, however, to see these two boys becoming so chummy. All the registrants here and who does Brooks meet up with but Enright? What were the odds of that?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Day Two, 4:30 p.m.
BY 4:30 THAT AFTERNOON, Brooks and Lotello had exchanged several texts and were sitting face to face in the lobby bar. According to Lotello, who had dragged himself away from a shaded chaise lounge and a spellbinding whodunnit novel at Brooks’s request, Lotello had made some inquiries concerning the whereabouts of Simpson.
Lotello had asked the front desk if Simpson was a guest at the hotel. The answer was yes. Lotello had then asked for her room number but was told hotel policy forbade giving out that information. He was invited to pick up one of the lobby phones and ask to be connected to Simpson’s room. When Simpson hadn’t answered the phone in her room, Lotello returned to the front desk and asked to speak with the hotel manager.
A few minutes later, a gentleman appeared and introduced himself as the hotel manager. From his wallet, Lotello produced his D.C. Homicide Detective credentials and explained that he was traveling with D.C. Judge Cyrus Brooks, who was attending the Thriller Jubilee retreat. He omitted “Retired” in referencing Brooks.
Lotello asked the manager if he was aware that two TITO executives were missing. The manager responded that he was fully aware of the disappearances of Lasko and Llewellyn. Lotello explained that there might be a third missing TITO executive, Arianna Simpson. He asked if they could visit Simpson’s hotel room. The manager asked Lotello to be seated for a moment.
After a short wait, the manager returned in the company of a second person, someone he introduced to Lotello as being from hotel security. While the manager said it would be unusual to give out a hotel guest’s room number, he had verified Lotello’s and Brooks’s registration at the hotel, as well as their credentials, and would allow Lotello to accompany them to Simpson’s room.
When the three of them entered the room, it was entirely undisturbed, just as they reported to Lotello was the case with Lasko’s and Llewellyn’s rooms. All indications were that the room was still being used. Except that Simpson herself was not there. Using copies of the photo of Simpson in the Thriller Jubilee program, hotel security canvassed the grounds and other common areas of the hotel. Simpson was nowhere to be found. Of course, there was no way to say that she was not in one of the private hotel rooms other than her own.
“What do you think?” Lotello asked Brooks.
“I think we purchase you an admission pass to join me at this evening’s cocktail reception so that you and I can pay a little visit to Program Director Lewis.”
ME TOO? Can I come, too, please?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Day Two, 6:30 p.m.
THE WEDNESDAY EVENING COCKTAIL reception, co-sponsored by several of the larger publishing houses, was on one of the hotel verandas, looking down on the endless white beaches and the calm seas just beyond. The weather and the vistas were magnificent. Those attending were jammed in wall to wall.
Even though writers are admonished to avoid using clichés, I’m reminded of that old saying “water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.” Bodies, bodies everywhere, but not a one who genuinely knows me. Or genuinely cares about me. Yet. Hmm. Given the circumstances, “bodies” is perhaps an apt choice of words.
“WELL, THE PANAROMA IS certainly superb,” Brooks
said to Lotello. “People-hopping is not how I would prefer to spend my time. But alas, we have things to accomplish. Follow me, please.”
“Judge, wait up, what’s the hurry? How about we get our bearings some-hat before we go rushing up to Lewis? We haven’t even discussed what you want to say to her. And what if we can’t catch her alone?”
“Both good points, Detective. That’s Lewis, the little blonde thing standing over there with a drink in her hand.” Brooks pointed in Lewis’s direction, near the entrance to the reception, where she was standing in a tight circle with two others.
“You just described and pointed out at least a half dozen women in that general direction. What’s she wearing?”
“I don’t know. Some kind of a … dress.”
“Color?”
“Salmon. Peach. In that family. She’s talking to John Connor and Leonard Remington. Both bestselling authors and TITO board members. Connor’s the one with the silver hair. Remington is the one in the black blazer and jeans. And the funny little mustache.”
“I see her. I’ve read a couple of Remington’s novels. Pretty good stuff. The man knows how to write. I haven’t read Connor. He writes legal thrillers. Not really my cup of tea though because his police procedure is not all that accurate. Turns me off. But I think his first name is Jonathan, not John. Let’s just watch them for a few minutes, shall we? I’m curious to see if they mingle or just hang back together. As TITO hosts, I’d expect them to split up and make themselves more accessible to the conference participants. Either way, I’d like to see if we can catch Lewis by herself.”
“If you insist. Whatever.” Brooks observed that Lewis, Remington, and Connor remained off to themselves. “They seem content to keep their own company, to completely ignore the sea of people around them, only briefly accommodating those attempting to introduce themselves.”
“In the meanwhile, how exactly do you want to pursue this when we do approach Lewis?” Lotello asked Brooks.
“I introduced myself to Lewis yesterday. I expect she’ll remember me. I’ll just say hello and remind her that when we spoke she attributed Lasko’s and Llewellyn’s absence to last-minute scheduling conflicts that had cropped up. I’ll add now that I’m still looking forward to meeting them and ask if they’re at the party now, or will be around tomorrow or later in the week. From there, we can play it by ear. Depending on how she responds, I’ll probably ask her about Simpson’s quote scheduling conflict this afternoon. Just follow my lead.”
“Got it. Lead on then.”
They made their way over to the three TITO executives. Which, given the crowds, was easier said than done. They had to wait their turn among others also seeking an audience with them. Finally, they had their chance.
“Good evening, Ms. Lewis. Judge Cyrus Brooks. We met briefly yesterday. Nice to see you again. This is Detective Frank Lotello, the friend I mentioned who, along with his wife, attorney Leah Klein, have accompanied Mrs. Brooks and me on my writing quest to Thriller Jubilee.”
“Yes, of course, Judge Brooks. So nice to see you again. And very pleased to meet you, Detective Lotello. Allow me to introduce Leonard Remington and Jonathan Connor, both bestselling authors and members of TITO’s board.”
Connor smiled and said hello, but not much else. Remington was a little friendlier, albeit somewhat standoffish. Looking at Lotello’s cocktail reception ID name tag, Remington clarified his understanding that Mrs. Brooks, and Lotello and his wife Ms. Klein, were just visiting Punta Maya, and that only Brooks was actually enrolled in Thriller Jubilee. It seemed to Remington that anyone not formally enrolled in the retreat was, at best, a stepchild. Remington then asked Brooks how he was enjoying the conference so far.
“Immensely,” Brooks responded. “I was, however, disappointed not to be able to meet Mr. Llewellyn and Ms. Lasko. Will they be back before the week concludes?”
Remington deferred to Lewis and Connor, but immediately began fidgeting with his mustache. Connor looked down at the floor, as if someone had suddenly spilled a drink on his shoes. Lewis responded, “Sadly, no, they both had matters come up that unexpectedly required them to return home early.”
“That’s really a shame,” Brooks said. “What about Arianna Simpson? She’s another one I was hoping to meet. I understand she missed her presentation this afternoon.”
“Same conflict as Jim, I’m afraid,” Lewis said. “They share a client who’s having some difficulties. She had to return to New York as well.”
Brooks and Lotello exchanged a quick glance. “Very odd, Ms. Lewis,” Brooks said. “When I heard this afternoon that Ms. Simpson had missed her speaking engagement, I took the liberty of asking Detective Lotello to prevail upon the hotel’s management to escort him to Ms. Simpson’s room. It’s amazing how many doors a detective’s credentials can open. Literally. Excuse my feeble attempt at humor. All of Simpson’s personal effects were still in her room. She has not checked out. Her departure must really have been unexpected, and rather sudden, leaving all of her belongings behind like that.”
Lewis recoiled. She seemed at a loss for words.
Connor instead responded, “Whatever would possess the two of you—”
“Hello, everyone,” an intruder cut Connor off mid-sentence. “Hope I’m not interrupting. Lisa and I met on the flight over from Barcelona. I noticed her standing here and wanted to join and say hi. Of course, I also recognized the famous Leonard Remington and Jonathan Connor. Just had to introduce myself. Robin Donnelly, would-be novelist. This is my third TJ. I’m sorry, I don’t also recognize you other two gentlemen. My apologies. Are you famous too?”
Lewis had apparently recovered her momentary loss for words and jumped in before Brooks and Lotello might introduce themselves. “Hi, Robin, this is Cyrus Brooks and Frank Lotello. Like you, Cyrus is attending TJ. His friend Frank came along to visit the island.” Conspicuously, Lewis did not mention Brooks’s or Lotello’s titles. “I don’t mean to cut you off, Robin, but we were in the middle of a rather private discussion. I’m really sorry. Could you and I perhaps pick a time to have a drink? I’d love to hear what you’re working on. How about if we meet in the lobby bar around two o’clock tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes, of course. I understand completely, Lisa. That would be wonderful. I’ll look forward to it. See you then. Have a nice evening, everyone. Nice meeting you all.” Donnelly left the group and wandered off, no doubt in search of another networking opportunity to pursue.
It occurred to Brooks that matters were much worse than he had originally suspected. A third TITO executive was now missing. Worse still, he and Lotello had trapped Lewis in a flat-out lie about Simpson. He wondered how many further lies Lewis was telling. Not only to him but to others at the retreat as well.
Remington returned his attention to Brooks and Lotello. “Gentlemen, we owe the two of you an apology. And an explanation. We are obviously experiencing some kind of a … situation. We are quite possibly in over our heads and could very well benefit from your expertise. However, this is neither the time nor the place. Would the two of you perhaps be available to meet us in the board’s suite in a couple of hours, say around nine o’clock?” He gave them the hotel room number.
“Happy to accommodate,” Brooks responded. Here Frank and I go again. How in the world am I ever going to explain this to Eloise?
GOTTA LOVE THE SPYWARE! That was some conversation Lewis and the others were having. Quite a coincidence that Robin Donnelly showed up at just that moment. But there’s that buttinsky Brooks again, this time with his sidekick Lotello—sticking their noses under the tent? My tent!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Day Two, 8:30 p.m.
HART, LEWIS, CONNOR AND Remington assembled in the board’s suite thirty minutes before Brooks and Lotello were expected to join them. They were there trying to decide what they wanted to say when Brooks and Lotello arrived.
Hart, one of the most successful authors in the world today, whose Mack Renton series had so
ld over 100 million copies worldwide and had been turned into numerous movies, tended not to socialize as much as the other TITO board members. However, he was generous to a fault in terms of giving back, and always responds when asked to help, including his willingness to serve as TITO’s current president. Lewis, Connor, and Remington filled him in on the awkward meeting they had experienced with Brooks and Lotello at the open cocktail reception earlier this evening.
“Let me see if I’m up to date,” Hart said, recapping the obvious because it was his way of taking command. “Three of our directors, Lasko, Llewellyn, and Simpson, have all gone missing, in that order and in as many days. At first, Lasko’s disappearance was thought to be an accidental drowning. Given the subsequent unexplained disappearances of Llewellyn and Simpson, it is more likely that all three met with foul play. At whose doing, we have no idea whatsoever.
“Ignoring the prospect of some sick hijinks on the part of some of our over imaginative mystery writers, we may have an anonymous predator here at TJ. One with a unique grudge against our three vanished colleagues, as well perhaps as TITO itself. Worse still, we have no idea if our culprit is finished.
“Lisa has been running around playing Hans Brinker, doing her level best to plug what is now at least three holes in the dike, and also to keep all of this under wraps. However, at least two outsiders here at the hotel, Brooks and Lotello, outwardly smell a rat. Do I about have this right so far?”
Face grim, Lisa nodded affirmatively. Lisa had already explained who Brooks and Lotello and their wives were. “We should also not lose sight of the fact that hotel security is aware of our missing colleagues and possibly a secretary in the office of the local island police department, which has only one officer who happens to be away on vacation.”
Brooks-Lotello Collection Page 77
