A Plain Malice: An Appleseed Creek Mystery (Appleseed Creek Mystery Series Book 4) (20 page)

The teenaged guy
with floppy hair and bad skin stood behind the registration desk and winked at me.

I smiled and scooted to the other side of the lobby.

He snapped his gum. “You’re with that old lady, aren’t you?”

I gave a small nod. I wasn’t in the mood to chitchat with the obviously bored teenager.

The teen flicked his hair out of his eyes in a practiced move. “She’s really popular.”

I crossed the lobby. “What do you mean?”

He clicked his computer mouse on the counter. “Lots of folks have come back here looking for her. There was a cop for one.”

Officer Nottingham.

“And then there was this old dude. I thought maybe it was her husband. I called up to her room, but she refused to come down. My girlfriend said she was probably running away from him. That’s why the cop was here. Maybe he beat her or something.”

“You
r girlfriend works here at the hotel?”

He squished up his face.
“Naw. But sometimes she hangs with me when it’s slow. Don’t tell my boss. He wouldn’t like it.”

“I won’t,” I promised.
Like I know who your boss is.
“The man who was here, what was his name?”

The teen twisted his mouth as he
dug into his memory banks to retrieve the name. “I don’t remember. He was old though, and the dude was way mad when the old lady said she wasn’t coming. He wanted to know what her room number was, but my girlfriend told me I shouldn’t tell him.”

“You have a smart girlfriend.”

“I know,” the teen said in awe. “She’s going to college.”

“
When you say old, how old do you mean?”

He cocked his head. “Older than you
, like by a lot.”

Great.
At twenty-four, I qualified as old.

“Definitely grandpa age.
That’s why I was surprised the old dude got so mad. I mean, grandpas are supposed to be mellow. At least, my Gramps is. He sleeps most of the day and likes his food straight from the blender.”

It had to be one of the men from the bus tour.

“What did he look like?” I asked.

The teen hair fell into his eyes again. “He was a white dude.”

That ruled out Duke at least.

“Anything else about his appearance that you can tell me?”
I asked.

“He had a wicked mustache.”

“Wicked?”

“My girlfriend
grew up in Massachusetts, and she says
wicked
all the time. She says it’s like
sweet
or
cool
around here.”

The older man with the mustache had to be Earl. What was he doing at Pearl’s hotel? How did he get there? Did he take a taxi like Pearl had? The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Could Earl be the killer?
The image of Earl crying in the elevator sprang to my mind.

“Red, are you giving Cameron a hard time?”
a voice asked from behind me.

A chill ran down my spine. Only two people on the planet called me Red. Curt was one, and Brock Buckley was the other.

Cameron cracked his gum more quickly, and his eyes dilated slightly. I didn’t know what Brock had done to the poor kid, but Cameron was afraid of him.

I spun around. “What are you doing here?”

Brock was over six feet tall and built like a bulldozer. His bald head gleamed under the lobby’s fluorescent lights. He wore the same hotel uniform Cameron had on. His deceptive baby-like face smirked at me. “Aww, Red, I thought you would be friendlier, you being a
Christian
and all. Isn’t being nice required for your kind of people?”

I glanced behind me
. Cameron was gone.

Brock laughed. “Don’t look to that wimp for help. He’s in
the backroom wetting his pants.”

I straightened to my full five
-four height. “You work here?”

“Surprised someone
gave me a job, Red?”

The s
imple answer was “yes,” but I knew better than to say that.

He laughed again and brushed across my body as his slipped behind the registration counter.

I recoiled.

“Checking in?” he asked.

“No. I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Ahh.”
He removed a cigarette from the breast pocket of his shirt and lit up.

“You’re not supposed to smoke indoors
. State law,” I said.

He took a long drag from his cigarette. “Are you going to tattle on me? I know wimpy Cameron know
s better than to do that.” He clicked on the mouse and smiled at something he saw on the screen. “Your
friend
must be that old lady from the bus tour. Too bad about her sister.”

“It was her cousin,” I corrected automatically.

He smiled as if he found it quaint I bothered to correct him.

“
How’s Curt doing?” Brock’s lip curled up in distaste.

“He misses you.”

Brock laughed. “He should have thought about our friendship before he went Goody Two Shoes on me.”

“Maybe if you talk to him…” I couldn’t believe what I heard myself say. Why was I encour
aging Brock to see Curt? Brock was the last person Curt needed in his life. He was doing so well without Brock. “Curt started a prison ministry.”

Brock laughed so hard
he gripped the counter for support.

I crossed my arms. “He’s turning his life around.”

“Curt means nothing to me. Just like you mean nothing to me. I’m working here to save enough money to leave this worthless county. I’m headed to Florida. I always wanted to live on the beach.”

I felt bad for the
people in Florida.

The grin was back.
“I hope you two will be very happy together.”

I blinked.
“Who?”

“You and Curt.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, but I knew.

A
malicious smile spread across his face. “You don’t know?” He laughed. “Can’t say I’m that surprised. You never were the swiftest on the uptake about these things.”

My eyes drifted to the
elevator’s doors. I hoped Pearl appeared soon, so that we could leave.

He put the cigarette out in Cameron’s coffee mug.
“Curt’s in
love
with you.”

I felt like someone had dropped
a grand piano on my head. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t I?”
He stalked around the counter. “I know Curt the best.”

I shook my head.
“You don’t know him anymore. He’s changed.”

“And why did he change?
Because he really believed in your God? Or because he thought it would bring him closer to you?”

“You’re wrong.”
The back of my leg bumped into a potted plant.

“This could certainly make your little fairy tale with the buggy rider more difficult. What a shame if that was ruined.”
False compassion laced his words.

“Don’t you have to get back to work?”

The bing of the elevator’s arrival interrupted us. A minute later, Pearl appeared rolling her suitcase and carrying her Blue Suede Tours roll bag. She hesitated when she saw me standing in the middle of the lobby with Brock.

Brock smiled at her and said as nice a
s you please, “Good afternoon. Are you ready to check out?”

Pearl gave me a questioning look. “Yes, thank you.”

I took the roll bag and suitcase from Pearl’s hands and watched as she returned her keycard, and Brock printed her receipt.

All-the-while, m
y heart thundered in my chest.
Was Brock right? Did Curt have feelings for me? That couldn’t be possible. He knew Timothy and I were very much together.
But after my conversation with Curt that morning in the churchyard, I had my own suspicions about Curt’s feelings. Maybe he had a small crush but that didn’t mean it was love. It didn’t, I told myself.

“Thank you for staying with us,” Brock said to Pearl
, but he stared directly at me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Who was that nice young man?” Pearl asked as I hurried her out through the hotel’s sliding glass doors.

I almost threw up.
Brock Buckley was not a nice young man. “Just someone who works at the hotel. Have you eaten today?” I unlocked my car with my fob and popped the hatchback trunk.

Her forehead creased. “No?”
she said as if she weren’t sure.

“I bet you haven’t. Let me take you to a late lunch. This way if you eat enough and get a to
-go bag, you can skip the dinner at the inn tonight and avoid the dinner conversation.” I winked at her.

She laughed. “That sounds
nice. Not that I think you will host a bad dinner conversation.”

“Actually, I haven’t
even thought about what the topic of today’s conversation will be. I’m hoping Becky will come back from Utica with some good ideas.” I placed the suitcase and roll bag in the trunk.

“Can you do me one small favor about the lunch?”
she asked as she followed me to my Beetle.

I slammed the trunk closed.
“Sure, what it is?”

“No, Amish food
.”

It was my turn to laugh. “
I know the perfect place, and it’s not far from here.”

I took Pearl to a small Italian
restaurant in Mount Vernon. The building was a block from the tiny city’s main square. The dark interior smelled like garlic. It was the most non-Amish place I could think of.

We stood just inside the door for a moment to
allow our eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. A man in a suit jacket showed us to our table. A votive candle sat in the middle of the table under a red glass dome and gave off just enough light so we could see our silverware.

Pearl held her menu
close to her face. “This is perfect. It’s not like any place we have visited on the tour, and I love Italian food.”

I tilted the menu to the candle
to see it better. It didn’t help that much. I wondered if it would be rude if I asked the waiter for a flashlight. “I’m glad you like it. I’ve only been here once, but the ravioli I had was excellent. I’ve been looking forward to coming back.”

“Did you come with t
hat handsome beau of yours?”

My cheeks
grew hot, and it wasn’t from the candle. “Yes.”

She set her menu aside.
“He seems to be enamored with you. “

My eyes finally adjusted to the dark room, and Pearl looked the most
alert that I had seen her during the entire trip.

“Are you two going to marry?”

The waiter returned to take our orders and saved me from having to answer that question. Pearl ordered manicotti, and I chose a small, four-inch personal pizza. I wanted to steer the conversation away from Timothy and me and back on Pearl and her cousin Ruby. I also wanted to ask her what Earl was doing at the hotel. “You live in Tupelo? What’s it like? I’ve never been to Mississippi before.”

“You should visit it. It’s a lovely southern state. I’ve lived there most of my life, and can’t imagine
moving. Ohio is lovely too though.”

I smiled. “Every state ha
s its own charm.”

She sipped her water. “You
’re right. To be honest, I’m surprised at the difference between Lancaster County and Ohio. I thought it would be much the same, but it’s not. The Amish are different here. Maybe not as outgoing, and they dress differently too. The women’s prayer caps in Lancaster were almost heart-shaped. Here, they are much simpler.”

The waiter placed Pearl’s salad in front of her.

After he left, I said, “Don’t forget the buggies. Lancaster buggies are gray. Ohio’s are black.”

“That’s right I never knew there was so much
variety among the Amish.”

I smiled. “I didn’t either before I moved here.
”

“Have you been to Lancaster?” she asked.

I shook my head. “But Timothy’s grandfather is from there, and he talks about it all the time.” I sipped my water. “You said Ruby was your only family.”

“Yes.” She stared down at her plate.
“We share a small ranch in Tupelo. We decided to live together after my husband passed away. The ranch is Ruby’s house.” Worry creased her forehead. “That will be something else I will have to deal with when I return home. There are so many details. Ruby and I tried to plan ahead for this time for something like this. We aren’t young anymore, but there are so many things we didn’t do or put off.” She sighed. “We thought we had more time, and I always thought I would go first.”