Murder is the Pits (24 page)

The coffee was the best I’d ever tasted
(could have been the timing), and the suite truly was spectacular,
worth every penny of Ruthie’s $349 per night. If it hadn’t been for
the small bar with a microwave and refrigerator, you’d think you’d
stepped back into the nineteenth century. The walls were painted a
pale yellow with white crown molding and trim, while brocade drapes
and sheers hung over the expansive windows. The living area
furniture had marble-topped tables with a couch and matching high
back chairs upholstered in royal blue brocade. An ornately carved
cabinet housed the television.

The bedroom had two queen beds with fluffy
white comforters and big pillows. Those pillows called my name, yet
I had to be minimally sociable before ripping my clothes off and
diving into bed. In fact, I was so tired I’d even sleep with Penny
Sue.

I sat in one of the chairs and gazed at the
green shrimp formation, which was Frances, approaching the Florida
coast. “What’s the storm doing?”

Ruthie sighed. “Drifting ashore at five mph.
Good news—they think it’ll hit south of New Smyrna. Bad news—that
puts the condo on the strong side of the storm. It’s moving so
slowly that forecasters predict tremendous flooding.”

“Glad I left,” I said, noticing the wind
speeds at various sites around the Florida map. I held up my cup.
“Have any Bailey’s Irish Cream for this?”

“Of course, darling,” Penny Sue drawled,
pulling a bottle from a shelf under the bar. “You’re wiped out,
aren’t you?” She filled my mug and splashed some Bailey’s over ice
for herself. Ruthie declined, being as it wasn’t even six o’clock.
“You’re pale as a ghost. What happened?”

I gave them an abbreviated—that is,
face-saving—version of the noises at the condo and the reason I
left early.

“I had a bad feeling about your staying
there alone,” Ruthie said emphatically.

Next, I filled them in on the bizarre race
or road rage incident in Palm Coast. “Honestly, I was doing eighty,
and they were gaining on me. I don’t know if they were trying to
kill each other or trying to kill me.” I winked at Ruthie. “I
received some divine intervention. At the moment my bug wouldn’t go
any faster, I saw a sign for the interstate. Needless to say, I
took it. I hit the brake and skidded up the ramp. It was short and
I had to decelerate from eighty to thirty mph in a matter of yards.
The wheels were locked, and I was skidding into bumper to bumper
traffic.” I glanced at the ceiling. “Someone up
there
helped
me. A slow eighteen-wheeler made a space and I slipped into it. If
I could find that trucker, I’d kiss him. He saved my life!”

Ruthie smiled. “There are no accidents.”

“What happened to the guys following you?”
Penny Sue asked.

“They were accelerating when I made my move.
If
they were after me, I lost them.”

Ruthie shook her head. “Evil is everywhere;
I feel it.”

I downed my drink. “I have to go to
bed.”

I slept until eleven. When I awoke, Ruthie
and Penny Sue were gone. From the shape of the bathroom, they’d
already showered, dressed, and headed to a late breakfast. Good. I
needed some quiet time, and I was famished. The clam chowder I’d
eaten for dinner was long gone from my stomach. I called room
service for Eggs Benedict and a large pot of coffee.

I found an iron and board in the closet,
along with a terry cloth robe that I put on for room service’s
sake, fished a cotton outfit from my suitcase, and switched on the
Weather Channel. Frances remained just off the coast, moving at a
snail’s pace. Jim Cantore had been in Daytona Beach earlier in the
week, but had gone south, now.

Fed and fully dressed, I located Ruthie and
Penny Sue in the gift shop off the lobby.

“We left so you could get some sleep,”
Ruthie said.

“Thanks, I needed it.” I glanced around the
shop and the lobby. “This is a beautiful hotel.”

“Yeah, too bad most of the fun people left
this morning. They were afraid of getting caught by the storm and
flew back to the Hamptons.”

“Can’t say I blame them.”

“No big loss,” Ruthie said. “I didn’t think
they were that much fun.”

Penny Sue’s brows knitted with disbelief.
“Yes they were, and they’re rich as hell. Our pledges total over
$50,000. If we’d found Chris, I know they’d be higher. She’s a
great salesperson and from New York, to boot.”

“Why couldn’t you find Chris? Did you call
her store?”

Penny Sue gave me a dumb look. “I called her
cell phone.”

She was clueless. “Penny Sue, Chris works.
She probably turns her cell off during business hours. Did you walk
down to her shop?”

“Her shop?”

“Yes, the store we’re invited to stay in.
The store with the friendly ghosts and psychic cat. The Rising
Moon! Does that ring a bell? It’s only a few blocks away, on
Spanish Street.”

“That does sound familiar,” Penny Sue
allowed.

“I hope so, after everything Chris has done
for us and the race.”

“We’ll go visit Chris this afternoon. Come
on, I want to introduce you to one of the guys we met.” Penny Sue
grinned devilishly. “He’s single.” She charged out of the gift shop
and ran smack-dab into a man walking down the hall. There was a
quick exchange of apologies, and the man headed out the side
door.

“Slow down, Penny Sue. There’s no need to
rush. Frankie’s obviously here for the duration, since he didn’t
fly home with his friends,” Ruthie said.

“Wait,” I said, following them into the
hallway. “I know that man.”

“Frankie?” Penny Sue sounded peeved.

“No, the man you just rammed.”

She tossed her hair. “I didn’t ram him, it
was a minor brush.”

“That almost knocked him down.” Ruthie
chuckled.

“Seriously, that guy came in the Marine
Conservation Center yesterday. He wanted information on nature
cruises. We gave him some brochures and sent him packing. I thought
it was strange that someone would be interested in boat tours when
the island was being evacuated. Now he shows up here.”

“Are you sure it’s the same person?” Penny
Sue peered out the side door.

“Positive. I recognize the heavy gold
necklace he’s wearing. It’s unusual to say the least—intertwined
snakes.”

“How tacky,” Penny Sue said.

We started toward the lobby. “Forget
tacky—what’s he doing here?”

“Evil,” Ruthie murmured, shaking her
head.

Geez, I wished she stop saying that! With
murders and hurricanes, even I knew the vibes were awful. I didn’t
need to be reminded constantly. But, that was Ruthie; she meant no
harm.

We took a quick tour of the ornately
furnished lobby and ended up in the bar for a cappuccino. Penny Sue
insisted, claiming the hotel’s cappuccino was the best in the
world. I shook my head.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Lame. Surely you can come up with a better
excuse than that.”

“Lame how?” She plopped her purse on a table
by the window and sat down. A television over the bar was tuned to
the local news.

Ruthie and I took seats with a view of the
TV. “Frankie wouldn’t have anything to do with your sudden desire
for coffee, would he?” I asked.

She waved to the bartender, pointed at the
cappuccino machine, and held up three fingers. He got her drift.
“Maybe. Frankie came here yesterday for lunch.”

Chocolate, men, and wine. You could count on
at least one being the motive for almost anything Penny Sue wanted
to do. She was so predictable, I almost laughed aloud.

Suddenly, Ruthie gasped and pointed to the
television.

“Frances?” I asked.

“No, a wreck on Route 1. A black Taurus.
They said the driver apparently lost control and ran off the road.
He was speeding.”

“Where? Did they say where the crash
occurred?”

“Just beyond the 298 interchange. That’s the
ramp you took to I-95!”

“Gracious! I’ll bet it was one of the cars
following me—it was about the size of a Taurus. I’d better call
Woody.” I swiveled toward Penny Sue’s chair. She was gone. It was a
small bar, so she wasn’t hard to find. She’d intercepted a lanky,
dark-haired man at the entrance. Frankie I presumed. I squinted to
get a good look at him. “Crap! I’ve seen that guy before. He was at
the racetrack watching us during the TV interview. I know it.
Ruthie, there are far too many coincidences for my taste. We have
to get Penny Sue away from him, and we need to get out of this
hotel!”

“I told you—” Ruthie started.

I held up my hand. “Don’t say it—‘evil,’ I
know. The question is, ‘What should we do about it?’”

“Pull out your cell phone and pretend you’re
talking.” I did. “Barrett,” Ruthie called to the bartender who was
making our coffees. She motioned to me. “An emergency. We have to
leave, charge it to my room.”

“Want me to put them in paper cups?” he
offered.

“No time,” Ruthie replied, then whispered to
me, “Duck your head and pretend you’re crying. Rush past Penny Sue
to the elevator. I’ll get her and meet you at the suite.”

I brushed past Penny Sue and Frankie with my
hand over my eyes. Ruthie lingered to speak with them. I found an
elevator waiting and took it to the fifth floor. A few minutes
later Ruthie and Penny Sue arrived. She rushed to me and gave me a
big hug. “Oh, Leigh. Your father?!”

Meanwhile, Ruthie unlocked the door and
dragged us in, bear hug and all.

“My father’s fine,” I said, extricating
myself from Penny Sue’s grip. “It’s Frankie.”

She gave Ruthie a hard look. “I thought your
father—What do you mean, it’s Frankie?”

“I’ve seen him before. He was at the track
when we did the TV interview. He was sitting in the
grandstand.”

Penny Sue threw her hands up. “You think
you’ve seen everyone. The guy in the hall, now Frankie. Have you
had your eyes checked recently? What are the chances that two men
you saw in New Smyrna Beach would be in this hotel? The probability
is zero!”

“You’re right,” I shouted, “unless we’re
being followed!”

“Followed?” Penny Sue slumped into a
chair.

“That’s not all,” Ruthie said forcefully.
“While you were sparking with Frankie—”

“Sparking?” Penny Sue threw back her head
and laughed. “For goodness sake, where did that come from?”

“It’s a nineteenth century hotel, so I’m
picking up the vibes. Anyway, there was a wreck on Route 1 last
night. A black Taurus ran off the road and the driver, a man, was
killed. It was on TV while you were … flirting.”

“Really?” The blood drained from Penny Sue’s
face.

Ruthie was as fired-up as I’d ever seen her.
“I told you we were surrounded by bad vibes. Now we know who’s
responsible. Like Leigh said, we have to get out of this
hotel.”

“How can we do that if we’re being watched?
They know our cars—they’ll follow us anywhere we go.”

There was only one way out that I could see.
“Chris. Her shop is down the street, and we were thinking of
staying there anyway. The men are watching us, not our cars …
unless they’ve been bugged!”

Penny Sue did a head slap. “Damn, I never
thought of that. That’s the first thing they taught us in the
anti-terrorist driving course—check for tracking devices, and it
never occurred to me.”

“If they’re bugged, we can’t move them,
right?”

“Right, but all our stuff is in them. If we
stay with Chris, we’ll need our supplies,” Penny Sue said.

“I have an idea. We call Chris and have her
come pick up the stuff from our cars,” Ruthie suggested.

“Chris can’t get to them—the cars are in
valet parking,” Penny Sue objected.

Ruthie smirked. “She can if we tip the
bellman and valet enough.”

“If we’re being watched, won’t that look
suspicious? I mean, calling a bellman to the room?”

I glanced around. “Don’t y’all have
something that needs to be pressed right away?”

Penny Sue jumped to her feet, eyes aglow, as
Ruthie poured herself a glass of wine. It was all I could do to
keep a straight face at the role reversal.

“I see,” Penny Sue said excitedly. “We tip
the bellman, to tip the valet, to let Chris in and give her the
keys to our cars.” Penny Sue started to pace. “I know … Chris is a
friend that we were helping to move. The stuff in our cars belongs
to her and now she’s come to get it.”

“Good,” Ruthie said, handing Penny Sue and
me a glass of Chardonnay. “Keep thinking.”

Penny Sue took a sip. “Nothing suspicious
about having a dress pressed and a friend picking up her
belongings.” Penny Sue strode to the closet, took Ruthie’s black
silk chemise off the hanger, balled it up, and sat on it. “Okay,
why don’t we meet our friend downstairs? That’s suspicious. If
she’s such a good friend, why aren’t we there to help her get her
stuff?”

“Because we have massages and facials
scheduled at the only time Chris can come. We’re going out to
dinner, which is why we need the dress,” Ruthie said.

“That’s good, Ruthie,” Penny Sue said with
true admiration. “You’re on a roll.”

Ruthie finished her drink and refilled the
glass. “I’m getting help. An older woman. Very stately. She used to
vacation at this hotel in its heyday. Her name’s Millie. She hangs
around because she had so much fun here. She particularly liked
wine and she could drink when she came here, since no one at home
would know.”

Lordy be, I thought. ‘Evil all around’ and
now Millie. If I lived through this, I might write a book about
it.

“You’re possessed?” Penny Sue asked, arching
a brow.

“No, only in communication. This lady had a
lot of nerve.”

“All right, assuming Chris is available and
we pull that off, how do we get out of the hotel without being
followed?” I asked.

Ruthie screwed her mouth up like we were the
dumbest people on the planet. “The chambermaid, of course.” Ruthie
waved her glass grandly. “She’ll roll us to the back door in that
big laundry cart, where Chris will pick us up.”