Fortune Furlough

by Jana DeLeon

  “This is all so interesting. How do you know when there’s a problem with wiring and stuff?”

  “In this case, it was easy—the cameras on that floor stopped working completely about a week ago, so we went looking for the problem.”

  Which meant that there was no footage of the ins and outs of Otis’s room prior to the day he was killed. Which meant Benton couldn’t easily latch onto another suspect. I held in a sigh. Back to square one. Next up was the key card angle.

  I opened my eyes wide and attempted to feign concern. “So there was like, no security at all while they were broken? That’s scary.”

  “We had to order some parts so it took longer than usual, but there’s nothing to worry about. The resort is really secure.”

  “But…I mean, didn’t some guy get killed here? On that floor?”

  Stewart stiffened a bit and I knew he’d probably already taken an earful from Benton about the lack of footage.

  “Yeah,” he said finally, “but I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

  I gave him a sympathetic look. “I heard that cop—Benton, right—talking to the resort manager the other day. He doesn’t seem like a very nice person. Benton, I mean, not the manager.”

  “Benton’s a douche.” He blurted it out, then his ears reddened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be crass.”

  “That’s all right. I keep hearing that word in regard to him. It seems particularly fitting based on what I overheard.”

  I could tell he was trying to keep from asking me anything but his built-in drive to know everything won out. “What did you hear?” he asked. “I mean, if you don’t mind saying.”

  “I don’t mind at all. That Benton was complaining about video, which made no sense to me then, but I guess it does now that I know about the camera problem. Then he started complaining about the key cards.” I paused and stared at him. “Those aren’t broken too, are they? Do I need to get a new card? Or have them redo the lock thingy on my door?”

  He shook his head and sighed. “You don’t need to do anything. The key card system is working fine. Benton just doesn’t want to believe it because the only people who ever used a key card to access that particular room were housekeeping, maintenance, and the man who was staying there.”

  I frowned. “What difference does that make? The man could have let someone in himself.”

  “That’s the problem. The cameras were working again that night and no one went in his room but him.”

  A thought occurred to me—a potential chink in the armor, so to speak. And I was pretty sure Stewart had the answer I needed. It was just a matter of getting it out of him.

  “Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s interesting. It’s a real mystery, right? Just like Veronica Mars. I used to love that show.” Which was partly true. I hadn’t hated it when Gertie had made me watch it last week. I grabbed his arm and he jumped, looking a bit frightened.

  “You should totally be an investigator,” I said. “You’re really smart…so much smarter than Benton. I bet you could figure out who killed that man. Then you’d be a hero. I bet you’d get a big promotion and a raise. Maybe even be interviewed on the evening news. That would be really cool.”

  His eyes widened. “No. I can’t…I don’t know anything about cop stuff.”

  “But you know everything that goes on at the resort. You’re like the Wizard of Oz, running everything behind the curtain.”

  “Well, I’m not really running anything. Maybe recording things.”

  I waved my hand in dismissal. “That’s beside the point. You know stuff. Like the key cards.”

  “But that information doesn’t provide any clues. It’s very straightforward. Housekeeping uses the same master key cards they have to check out each day. All the cards have been checked in and out as required and that room was accessed as recorded on the housekeeping log. I had to do a comparison. Maintenance keeps a log as well. Everything matched the log. No one was in his room without a valid reason.”

  “And the dead guy was the only other one to use a card to open the door, right?” I scrunched my brow, pretending that thinking required effort. “How do you know it’s the same card? Do they have numbers or something?”

  “Yes. Although technically, it wasn’t just one card he used. It was two different ones.”

  “Is that normal? I only got one card when I checked in.”

  “Some people request two and both the cards used were assigned to the man staying in the room.”

  “Would you be able to tell when the man got the cards? I mean, if there were two, maybe someone else got one somehow. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who went into his room.”

  “I suppose that’s possible. I didn’t think about it really.” He turned his chair around and tapped on the computer, looked at a screen of numbers, then accessed something else. When the next screen came up, he ran his finger down the monitor, then looked over at me.

  “He didn’t get both cards at check-in,” Stewart said. “He reported his first card lost and got another one.”

  “When did he get the new card?”

  “The day he was killed. That evening, to be exact.”

  “And was the old one ever used again?”

  “It was used four times that morning, but not again after he requested the new one. The old cards are deactivated in the system when they’re reported lost.”

  “Of course. Safety and all.”

  He frowned and I wondered if he was realizing what all that meant.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I mean, probably nothing. It’s just that I have no way of knowing what time during the day he actually lost his card.”

  “So someone else could have stolen his card and you wouldn’t be able to see them because the cameras weren’t working. You solved the mystery!” I clapped my hands. “I told you that you could do it.”

  He blushed. “I didn’t solve it. I’ve just proven that there was a chance someone else could have gotten into his room.”

  His shoulders slumped a bit. “But I don’t see why it matters. Even if someone went in his room with the old card, they didn’t use it the night he was killed. It’s not on the log and no one is on video. And even if someone was crazy enough to access the room during the day and wait for him until night, we still would have seen them on the video footage leaving the room.”

  Everything Stewart said was accurate, and since he didn’t know the cause of death was poison, he was working with the idea that someone had killed Otis in person. I’m not sure how he thought that had happened unless they were a ghost or a vampire. Or could you see vampires on camera? I couldn’t remember the lore.

  “Well, I still think you’ve done a great job,” I said.

  Stewart was still frowning and I could tell he was working through the facts of the situation and they didn’t add up. He probably hadn’t spent much time dwelling on it before because murder wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that regular folk liked to think too hard on.

  “There’s no way someone could have killed this guy,” Stewart said finally.

  “What about a connecting room?” I asked, figuring I might as well keep playing along.

  “The connecting room was empty but it wasn’t accessed either, and the video doesn’t show anyone entering or exiting.”

  “I don’t suppose someone could scale those balconies, could they?” I asked, hating myself for asking such a stupid question.

  “If they did, there would have been a rope or something tied to it.”

  “Oh yeah.” I shrugged. “Then I guess that stupid cop is wrong. The man must have killed himself.”

  Stewart gave me a hopeful look. “Given the facts, that’s really the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Well, then, you need to call and put that horrible deputy in his place. And I suppose you should tell him about the replacement card, right? I mean, in case it matters.”

  “Except Benton won’t feel like I put him in his place a
t all. He’ll just blame me for not knowing the card was lost.”

  “Did Benton even ask any detailed questions? Did he come back here and learn about your job before he ran off half-cocked, thinking he knew everything?”

  Stewart slowly shook his head. “No. I gave him exactly what he asked for, and he cussed some, then stomped off. I never would have thought about it more if you hadn’t come by. Maybe you should think about doing the Veronica Mars thing.”

  “Oh, that’s way too dangerous for me.”

  Stewart sucked in a breath. “Crap. Oh man. I shouldn’t have done this. What if the killer comes after me next? That’s always what happens in the movies. The guy who figures out something is always the next to go. I live with my mom and three cats. What if he comes after them?”

  He’d moved past upset and straight for outright panic. I was afraid he might start hyperventilating, so I placed my hand on his arm and squeezed.

  “Calm down,” I said. “We already figured out he must have killed himself. Besides, you don’t know anything that implicates someone. And even if you did, no one would know about it but me and you. All you have to do is tell Benton what you do know, then you’re off the hook.”

  He stared at me for a couple seconds, processing what I’d said. Logic must have finally trumped emotion, because he eventually let out the breath he’d been holding and nodded.

  “Okay. You’re right,” he said. “As soon as Benton knows, I’m good. I should call him. Right now.”

  I jumped up from my chair. “Definitely. That way we’re both safe. I mean, no one knows I’m in here but you can’t be too careful, right? I’m going to leave before someone sees me. Thanks so much for fixing my phone.”

  “Sure. Just come back if you have any more problems.”

  He gave the phone a hopeful look, as if willing it to break. I gave him a quick hug, which probably sent his pulse rate into the stratosphere, and hurried out before he could ask me for my phone number or for anything else that I had to say no to.

  As I hurried down the hall, I smiled. Things weren’t progressing quickly but at least we were moving forward. I seriously doubted Otis had lost his card. More likely, whoever had killed him had lifted it and he’d had to request a new one. But before he’d noticed, the killer had entered his room and poisoned something. It was a ballsy move.

  I came to a lurching stop.

  It wasn’t just ballsy. It was incredibly stupid.

  Unless the killer knew the cameras were broken.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I followed the smell of the breakfast buffet and located Ida Belle and Gertie at a table in the back, a giant fake palm partially blocking them from view.

  “I take it we’ve given up on the separation theory?” I asked as I sat.

  Ida Belle nodded. “We probably got everything out of the employees that we’re going to this morning. And besides, housekeeping has already put you and Gertie together. I give it until this afternoon before everyone is up to speed on the major players.”

  I waved the server over. “I’ll have sweet tea and the buffet, please.”

  The server nodded and hurried off.

  “I’m starving,” I said. “So give me a minute and I’ll fill you in.”

  I hurried off to the buffet and loaded up a plate with an omelet, bacon, toast, pancakes, strawberries, and two doughnuts. When I returned to the table, Gertie looked at my plate and nodded her approval.

  “Calories don’t count on vacation,” she said.

  Ida Belle snorted. “You better pass that information to your rear. Your plate made Fortune’s look empty.”

  “Some of us don’t spend our vacation dining on egg whites and dry toast,” Gertie said. “Who does that?”

  “Someone who’s saving their calories for alcohol and dessert night,” Ida Belle said.

  “Good point,” I said. “Maybe I should cut out one of the doughnuts.”

  Ida Belle waved her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about it. After all, we’re on an investigation. At some point, we’ll end up running.”

  Gertie looked disappointed. “If you change your mind, I’ll take it.”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “There’s an entire tray of doughnuts twenty feet from you. If you hadn’t eaten so many of those cream cheese crepes, you’d be able to walk over there and get your own.”

  “There’s cream cheese crepes?” I asked.

  “You two are impossible,” Ida Belle said. “Can you at least tell us in between bites what you found out?”

  I managed to consume the omelet, toast, and one of the doughnuts while I filled them in, then hurried off to grab some crepes before they were gone.

  “The missing room key and broken cameras explain a lot about why Benton is flinging mud at the wall and hoping it sticks,” Ida Belle said. “It also brings up the interesting angle you presented about who knew the cameras were broken.”

  “Seems like an employee of the resort is the best bet,” Gertie said.

  “Or someone connected to one,” I said. “Although it’s not the sort of information that’s juicy enough to spur random gossip. Did Gertie fill you in on the housekeeper info?”

  Ida Belle grinned. “I know all about you sleeping in closets because you’re emotionally scarred. I wish I’d been a fly on the wall. It’s a wonder you kept a straight face.”

  “You should have seen me playing Candy the Wonder Idiot with security,” I said. “I think I’m getting good at this.”

  “It probably helps that you’ve finally been exposed to the rest of society,” Gertie said. “It’s hard to play a role when you’ve only known the one for most of your life.”

  “True,” I said. “All those movies and television shows you’ve had me watch have definitely helped. And I have something to throw out there that other people connect with. But the home invasion PTSD was definitely a stretch.”

  “I had to think fast,” Gertie said. “What was I supposed to say?”

  “That I was drunk?” I suggested.

  “Oh, yeah,” Gertie said. “That probably would have worked.”

  “The simplest explanation is usually the most likely,” Ida Belle said.

  “In addition to my apparent emotional problems,” I said, “I assume Gertie filled you in on the housekeeping boss being taken by Otis?”

  Ida Belle nodded.

  “So what about you?” I asked Ida Belle. “Did you run down anything?”

  “Yep. I got a fix on the other suspect. One of the front desk clerks was having breakfast before her shift. I played the lonely old lady routine and invited myself to sit with her.”

  I smiled. Ida Belle playing the lonely old lady was almost as big a stretch as me playing the bubbly former cheerleader.

  She noticed my smile. “Two can do the research game. I’ve been watching those Hallmark movies. They’re ridiculous, of course, but since people seem to buy into all that mess, I figured I should work on my cast of characters. Although I wasn’t expecting to be called into duty on vacation.”

  She glanced over at Gertie, who was busy sneaking the last doughnut off my plate.

  “I know, I know,” Gertie said. “It’s all my fault. Blah, blah, blah. It’s like a broken record.”

  “Maybe because it keeps repeating,” Ida Belle said. “Anyway, the front desk clerk said Otis put the moves on one of the older ladies who works the night shift. Name is Betty Palmer and the clerk guesses she’s in her fifties. She’s widowed but the clerk said she didn’t think her husband had left her with much. This is the first job she’s ever held, and I’m sure she’s not raking in big pay.”

  “No,” I agreed. “And she’s probably not working for the fun of it. Night shift at a resort has got to be a horrible job.”

  “If you don’t like people,” Gertie said.

  “Who likes people?” I asked. “Seriously? I’m not talking about people you know. I’m talking about the random public.”

  “They make it pretty hard,” Ida Belle agre
ed. “The clerk said she overheard Betty on the phone one day with someone—she assumed a friend—saying she’d met this great guy who was going to open a restaurant on the island in a space for rent a couple blocks over. He was looking for investors and she was wanting to know what the friend thought about it.”

  “Sounds like he’s been working the business angle with more than just Flamingo Lady,” I said.

  Ida Belle nodded. “Well, whatever the person on the other end of the phone said made Betty mad. The clerk said she turned red and practically yelled, ‘I don’t believe you. Otis wouldn’t lie to me. You’re just jealous that I found someone.’ Then she saw the clerk at the copier and hung up, then stormed out of the office. The clerk said she was in tears.”

  “I wonder what the friend told her,” Gertie said.

  “Me too,” Ida Belle said. “Especially if it was specific rather than general, which is what it sounds like.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “It would be completely normal for a friend to warn a woman off of giving money to a relative stranger, especially when he’s offering romance as part of the deal. But if the clerk is remembering correctly, Betty’s first response was ‘I don’t believe you,’ which makes it seem like the friend told her something specific.”

  “That’s true,” Gertie said. “If it had been the general warning like ‘be careful that he’s not scamming you’ then a more likely response would have been something like ‘you always think the worst’ or ‘I’m not stupid.’”

  “Exactly,” I said. “I don’t suppose the clerk knew who she was talking to, did she?”

  Ida Belle shook her head. “I managed to work in the question but the clerk said she didn’t know. But if we’re going with the theory that this person offered up specific cautions, then that says local to me. Betty doesn’t have any family here, so the friend angle is the most likely. The clerk said she sees Betty having lunch sometimes with an older woman with big blond hair, lots of jewelry, and bright red lipstick, but she doesn’t know who the woman is.”