Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries) (12 page)

"He'll slip up somehow. I'll take pictures."

"Thank you, Lexi."

"It's not a problem."

"And, Lex...?"
Serena hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not even Lily. I don't want anyone to know."

"I won't tell anyone," I promised. "But you have to promise me you won't shoot the messenger."

"I've already got the message
,” Serena assured me
.
She dabbed her eyes and straightened her back, giving me a no nonsense look. “
Now I want the evidence."

And that's how I got my first pro
bono case.

"Let me get a form for you to fill in," I told Serena
.
I skirted around the baby to my desk where I kept spares of, well, just about everything
that
I felt
likely
to
lose
. "It's just typical stuff
,
but it means I'll have everything I need to get started.
I won’t take it to the agency. I’ll just use it. Okay? No one will know.
"

"
Okay.
How long will it take?"

"Depends on how stupid Ted is."

"Shouldn't be too long then," said Serena. She stuffed her tissue in her pocket and slid off the couch to the floor, playing with Victoria's feet. "He's so
arrogant
he doesn't think I even suspect
him
."

"Don't say anything to him," I warned her. "I know you probably want to tell him he's a jerk and
that
you know, but it'll make my job more difficult. I don't want him to change his routine."

"No problem. Just catch the fucker so I can screw him before he screws me."

Smart words from a smart lady. I got the form and handed it to her, then found a pen. While Serena filled out
the information
, I played
peek-a-boo
with Victoria, feeling glad I wasn't in
my sister’s shoes
,
but most
ly
very sorry for her.
S
orry for Victoria too, because at
just a few
weeks old
,
she had a dad who would rather be screwing other women than
at home
,
playing with her.
A lot of guys would love to have a beautiful, brilliant wife like my sister.
Ted really was stupid.

When Serena was finished, she thrust the paperwork into my hands, gathered her things up and put Victoria in the car seat
. When she
left, her
head
was
down and shoulders hunched again.

I watched from the window as Serena loaded Victoria into the Mercedes and drove off, then turned to the file in hand. I had a Ted to catch. I just wasn't sure what I would find.

With the rest of my free time, I sorted my laundry, and retrieve
d
both sets of
Solomon's files, spreading them out on my coffee table. As an afterthought, I made a coffee and grabbed a pack of cookies. As an afterthought
to my afterthought,
I pulled Marissa's file too. I did an eeny-meeny-miny-mo and
went with
Solomon's files
first
. After I matched up the current paperwork to the start of employment record for each employee
,
I had a better idea of who
m
I would be looking at first
,
once I started my
undercover
temp job at T
he Montgomery
.

I also knew what I was going to do about Marissa Widmore. By the time I picked up the phone to call Elisabeth
,
I felt very decisive.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was flat
,
but I recognized it
as
Elisabeth
’s
. She sounde
d defeated, much like my sister.

"This is Lexi Graves," I said.

"Oh, I've been waiting for you to call! You're taking the case?" Her voice lifted from flat to hopeful.

"Not exactly," I said.

"What do you mean not exactly? I said I would pay. At least, as much as I can. I don't earn much.
I could pay more
in
installments,
"
she offered.

"Let me explain. My team
don't think there's enough to go on. Marissa doesn't have family. She never stays at any
work
place long. She doesn't have
any
roots."

"I know all that. But I told you she wouldn't take off."

"My team don't like working from hunches." I wasn't sure if this w
ere
strictly true. I did believe they weren't sure about working off
my
hunch.

Elisabeth was confused. "So... you're not taking the case?"

"No, I am," I reassured her. "I think you're right, that something has happened to Marissa. It's just... I can't work on it full time."

"Is it the money? I can try and get more money."

"No,
that's not it. It's not going t
o cost you anything."

"Really?" She paused, then when she spoke again, she went from confused to suddenly pleased. "You're doing this pro bono? That's amazing. Thank you so much!"

I seized on that. "Yes. You're going to be my pro bono case. We don't like to talk about it, but it happens occasionally
,
so you can't tell anyone," I said hurriedly
. I
pull
ed
a face as I scrambled for a plausible reason as to why I was offering Solomon Agency time, una
u
thorized, for free. "And my boss
is
working a big case
,
so you'll only be dealing with me. I'm going to give you my number and you can call me
directly
on that." I waited while Elisabeth got a pen
,
then reeled off my cell phone number. "I want to come by to see you on Monday. Will you be home?"

"Yes
,
but not until the evening. I get home at six. Thank you so much."

"No problem. I'll see you then." I hung up and leaned back on my couch, trying not to hyperventilate, wondering if I was doing the right thing.
I imagined the look on Solomon’s face if he found out I’d just taken on a case
,
despite his wishes.

I couldn't help it
.
I couldn't just leave the woman hanging, not when her friend had disappeared. I made a note in my contact file about the meeting
,
then locked everything away
. I
went downstairs to see if Lily was in and wanted to hang out with me, rather than sit by myself
,
paranoid that Solomon guessed what I was doing and would come by to fire me. Or Maddox would get wind that I was still actively investigating
,
and would be pissed that I hadn't told him.

Besides, it couldn’t hurt that much.
I planned on working Marissa's case alone
and largely in my own time
. I just hoped I wasn't on a wild goose chase, or worse, making a huge mistake. I was fairly certain there would be
a
pretty
long line of people waiting to tell me that what I was doing was idiotic and a waste of time. Most importantly,
however,
Marissa
, missing for more than two weeks,
wasn't one of them.

And now I was the only one looking for her.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

I'd gotten used to sleeping in as and when I felt like it, so getting up for my first day at The Montgomery Hotel
was
an enormous
and
unwelcome chore.

I dressed in my navy skirt suit, match
ing
it with a sleeveless
,
red top
,
and a pair of
smar
t heels with red bows
,
and drove over to the hotel, coffee in hand, yawning the whole way.

P
ark
ing
in the area marked
“E
mployees,

I
walked through the back entrance, following the signs to the front desk.

"Hi," I said to the co
ncierge, placing my plastic travel mug on the desk
. "I'm
Mr.
Killjoy's new assistant. I was supposed to meet him here at nine."

"Great!" The concierge faux
-
beamed with glowing white teeth
as he
looked pointedly at my
mug
. I picked it up and his smile got wider. "I'll call
Mr.
Killjoy now!"
he announced, as if telling me I’d won the lottery.

"Thanks." I backed away from the tee
th and sat in an upholstered
chair, trying not to drum my fingers as I waited. I didn't have long to be honest with myself. I was nervous. Only Edward Killjoy knew I was undercover
,
and only he knew I was going to be spending more time investigating his staff than doing the usual assistant wo
rk. I didn't mind learning fast
. A
s a seasoned temp
,
I had plenty of experience in getting to know new computer systems, filing, and floor plans
;
but I had very little hands
-
on experience of knowing whether I was talking to a saboteur.
A stab of anxiety dug at my core and I had to remind myself that no matter what else, Solomon wouldn’t have sent me if he didn’t believe
I could handle it
. Also, I was probably the only investigator in the office who looked like an office temp
,
so maybe he didn’t have
much
choice.

Again
, I questioned whether I was really good enough for the job. It didn't escape me that my moment of crisis coincided with
the realization
that my colleagues didn't think I was up for it. At least
,
I assumed they didn't. It wasn'
t like we were Facebook friends
,
but their body language spoke loud and clear.

Screw them. I wasn't just going to get the job done
;
I was going to do it well! And with that, I gulped down the last of my panic, turned on my sweet
,
but dim smile
,
and stood up to meet the man in the suit bearing down on me.

"Lexi Graves?"

"Hi!" I pumped Edward Killjoy's hand, mentally noting that the pho
to was up
-
to
-
date. He was completely
bald
, not even a dusting of hair around the sides
,
and he wore
a nervous smile and a badge on his lapel that bore his name and title. "So good to meet you!"
I said, my enthusiasm turning my voice into a Hollywood starlet squeak.

"Thanks for coming in at short notice. Call me Edward. Let's go through to my office." Killjoy disentangled himself from my overly enthusiastic, nervous hand
-
pumping and beckoned
me to follow. I
trailed
him through
a maze of corridors before we arrived at an office
in the staff area,
far away from any hotel guests. He shut the door behind
him and gestured for me to sit in one of the two seats in front of his oak
-
veneered desk.

"Did you read the file?" w
as the first thing Edward asked as he moved behind his desk.

"Yes," I said, soberly now. I searched for somewhere to ditch my coffee
mug
and settled for the space under my chair. "I've read the background
s
on all your employees and I've seen the incident report."

"I'm sure you understand we need absolute discretion." Edward leaned forward
in his padded chair
, clasped his hands together
,
and rested his wrists on the edge of the desk.
He looked very troubled.

"That's what the Solomon Agency stands for," I told him, which was possibly true
,
but mostly I said it because it sounded cool. Edward seemed reassured.

"Good. I'm sure your boss explained why the sabotage is such a problem for us. If it gets out
that we can’t manage our events
,
or
that the guests
have had
their stuff stolen
, we could lose so much business that the hotel
would
no longer
be
viable. We've already lost several large bookings due to
rumors
, as well as
many more guest bookings
. Except for the conference this week, our room occupancy is at an all time low."

I took my notepad from my purse and flipped it open. "I thought the hotel was keeping the problem quiet?"

Edward nodded. "We are. I don't know how it got out. I suspect it's part of the saboteur's plan.
Whoever is doing this is telling people not to come.
"

Ouch. Someone really had it in for the hotel.
"Do you know why someone
would want
to hurt the business?"

"I've no ide
a,” said Edward, with a shake of his head. “
We've let people go, of course,
thanks to the economy
;
but they're mostly all employed elsewhere now
,
so I can't see why
anyone
would hold a grudge."

"Can you get me their employment records?"

"I've arranged for you to have access to everywhere in the building. The employment records are kept in our human resources office
with
Louisa
Moore
, our HR manager.
You can look through whatever you want.
I told Louisa
that you'll be doing some employment research for me
,
so she won't get in your way."

"Thanks. I appreciate that." It was good to tell the client that they were doing things right,
and
that they were a help, not a burden. Edward relaxed slightly
and a spot of light
illuminated
a shiny patch on his head,
appearing like
a little halo
. "You haven't been manager long. Do you think the grudge is against the hotel group
,
or you
personally
?" I asked.

"I was appointed manager when the hotel was taken over
;
and not everyone was happy about leaving, or abou
t my promotion. But I earned it,” he assured me. “
I've been in the hotel industry for more than twenty years. I've worked every job. I've grafted to get where I am today."

"I believe that. Can you get me a list of
anyone who was, or could have
been mad at you for your promotion?
Say, anyone at the hotel who wanted your current job
?
"

"Sure. I want to point out that the sabotage started months after I got the job
,
though
."

"It's just an angle to explore," I explained. "And please pardon this question,
but
have any complaints been made against you by any employee?"

"None," Edward said emphatically,
and
without offen
s
e. "You're welcome to check with Louisa."

I changed tactics
because I didn’t want Edward to focus on the personal angle
. "Tell me about the sabotage."

Edward
relaxed
in his chair and rolled his shoulders
,
like he was limbering up.
He was a muscular man, and broadly built, his shirt stretching across his
chest.
I saw no hint of a beer gut.
"It
started with
little things, things that our guests would pass off as carelessness, or sloppy work, but things just didn't sit right
when I looked at
them
altogether
. Too many lost bookings for rooms or
lost
reservations
in
the restaurant. Then the refrigerators were left open two Friday nights in a row. Weekends are big for us.
We g
e
t a lot of company dinners
,
as well as couples and families.
We fully stock the
refrigerators in preparation. Needless to say, those nights,
everything spoiled and needed
restocking
. After the second incident
,
I got a guy in from the manufacturer to replace the
locking
mechanism
on the doors. It seemed okay
;
then a month later it happened again, right before a wedding. The wedding breakfast was for two hundred,
canapés
and drinks for three hundred
,
and
an
evening buffet. We lost thousands
,
and that's not including the discount we had to bung the couple for being late on
serving
everything. We'll be lucky if they don't tell all their rich friends that we screwed
up
their special day."

"Sounds stressful."

"It wa
s.
Something similar to the wedding catastrophe
happened two weeks later. We had an awards dinner for a bunch of suits. We had to call every
vendor
we knew and beg for supplies. Our
vendors
supply other restaurants and hotels
too,
so I can only hope they kept their mouths shut
,
or we'll be a laughing stock
. This may seem like a big industry
,
but not when
the mud
starts flying,
"
Edward finished, his voice edging towards despair.

Most of this I already knew
,
but it was good to hear from Edward. He was one unhappy man and I got it. He finally
attained
the job he
’d
worked
his entire career
for
,
and some little shit was trying to screw him over. He
appeared
remarkably calm about it, even though it looked like he was counting the days until he was fired.
"There were other incidents?" I pressed.

"After the second incident with the refrigerators, stuff started
disappearing
from the guest rooms. Jewelry, phones, laptops, iPods. Expensive stuff. Some of the guests, understandably, wanted the police called in."

"Did you call the police?"

"No. We put in theft reports and reimbursed all the guests
as well as
interviewed every staff member. Not only do I now have guests who will never book here again, but I also have pissed
-
off employees
from the wait staff to the chambermaids
. Morale is rock bottom. No one trusts anyone."

"And the rotas have been messed with too?"

Edward nodded. "Yes. I now have to personally speak to every employee to confirm
what days
they're working. I have to keep the schedule
s
on me all the time. It's a pain in the ass."

"Can I see copies of all the crime reports
,
please?"

Edward
swiveled
in his chair and opened a cabinet behind him, his fingers walking over the files until he pulled one out. "Here," he said, passing it to me. "This is all of them."

"My boss mentioned something about
canceled
conferences?"

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