Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (29 page)

BOOK: Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries)
4.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"Where would you go?"

"Somewhere that made m
e 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 th
e
s
e
when I was seven.
"

"I
t'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
; s
he can show you w
h
ere 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 mo
re
thrilled about it. Lily had fully embraced the look by dividing her hair into p
ig
tails
, 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
S
lutty
P
ony. The hotpants were marginally too tight and slightly obscene from the back
.
T
he 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 a
n
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
.
T
hat 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
. T
he 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
over
heard 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?'
B
ut 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
book
ings 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
guest
s’
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
. B
ut then
,
so could any employee.
There were very few who could go where
ver
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
. T
heir 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
T
hrough the
D
ecades

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 gi
gantic,
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 close
r
to her. I had to know what she was
saying to
Amanda
, the concern on her face evident
.

BOOK: Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries)
4.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Baghdad or Bust by William Robert Stanek
The Christmas Pony by Melody Carlson
The Comfort of Lies by Randy Susan Meyers
The Parent Problem by Anna Wilson
When Tomorrow Comes by Janette Oke
Comes the Dark Stranger by Jack Higgins
Shallow Pond by Alissa Grosso
Meet Me at Emotional Baggage Claim by Lisa Scottoline, Francesca Serritella