Read Elisabeth Crabtree - Pink Flamingo Hotel 01 - Death by Pink Flamingo Online

Authors: Elisabeth Crabtree

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Hotel Owner - Florida

Elisabeth Crabtree - Pink Flamingo Hotel 01 - Death by Pink Flamingo (12 page)

Krista’s mouth opened and closed in shock. “I’m your cousin.
I’m not trying—” She snapped her mouth shut, her face coloring, as she looked from her employer to me. “Not that I love Gabriel, but …” Her face reddened even more.

I decided to spare her
any more embarrassment. “I was referring to Danielle.”

“Danielle?”
Gabriel asked with a chuckle. “What could she do?”

“Perhaps she
thinks she was doing you a favor this morning when she accused me of murdering Sylvia.”
If Sylvia and I were out of the way …
I thought, as another theory began to take shape.
“Maybe she thinks that if I go to jail, you’ll get the hotel.”
Then she’ll get Mr. Carrera and become a very wealthy woman. That would be quite the motive
. I frowned as I thought things through. There was just one problem with my theory. Gabriel Carrera was wealthy enough without the hotel.


I doubt Danielle would try to help me,” Gabriel said. “We didn’t exactly part as friends.”

Okay, there were two problems with my latest theory.
“She seemed friendly to you last night,” I said, not wanting to discard it just yet.

Gabriel
’s face hardened. “She was trying to make another man jealous.”

I didn’t bother asking who since I had a pretty good idea it was Jesse. “What happened between you two?”
I asked as we entered the elevator.

“I suspected that she was seeing someone behind my back.
That and it was clear from her behavior she was only interested in my money. I didn’t see any point to carrying on our relationship.”

“How did she take it when you broke it
off?”

“Horrible
,” he admitted matter-of-factly. “She threw a fit. Swore she’d make me pay. So,” he said as the elevator doors opened out into the lobby of Victoria’s condominium, “I sincerely doubt she’d try to help me get hold of the hotel. I’m sure she hates me just as much as she hates you.”

Krista pushed past us on her way to her car. “She’s a
certifiable wacko. I think you both should watch out for her.”

Gabriel
paused next to me and watched as Krista hurried away. “I wonder what she’s so upset about. I’d better go and talk to her.” He picked up my hand and held it between his as his dark brown eyes looked down at me in concern. “Please don’t worry about the hotel. If you need any help, anything at all, just let me know.”

I nodded my thanks and waved good-bye as he rushed to catch
up with Krista. I was just about to follow them to the parking lot when my phone rang. Recognizing Jesse’s number, I answered the phon
e
as I walked down the crushed shell pathway to my car.


Anna,” Jesse said before I could get a complete greeting out, “are you going to be home soon?”

“Yeah,
I’m on my way.” As soon as I was within a few feet of my car, I reached into my purse and took out my car keys. “Did you find Danielle?”


No, not yet.”

I froze. There was something in his voice … “
Is everything okay?

I asked as I leaned against the car door, ready to start banging my head against it if anything else went wrong today.

He sighed. “
Anna … we have a
bit
of a problem.”

“A bit?” I asked with more than a
bit
of trepidation. Considering how laid back and nonchalant Jesse had been about this whole affair starting this morning, I had a feeling that if Jesse considered whatever it was nothing more than a bit of a problem, then it was probably, in actuality, a massive, gargantuan problem of epic proportions. “What happened?”


The police are searching around the old pier.”

Huh, what do you know, I was right.

“What’s making that banging sound?” he asked.

I lifted my head off the car. “It’s nothing. I’ll be home i
n a few minutes,” I said before shutting the phone off and climbing into my car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

 

 

I sat at one of the picnic tables near the end of the boardwalk
next to a bunch of strangers as the police swarmed around the old pier. Every so often, I’d catch sight of Ryan or Luke in the distance. We all watched in rapt fascination, speculating on what was going on. The only difference between us was that I knew. I knew exactly what was happening. The police were looking for Sylvia’s body. Why else would they be down at the old pier at this time of night?

The only thing I didn’t know was what was taking so long.
Hours went by as most of my fellow watchers left to go home. A voice in my head told me to go back to the hotel. Act natural. Pretend that everything’s okay.
Only the guilty stick around to watch
, it said, but I couldn’t tear myself away.
Besides, I wasn’t guilty
, I argued back.
Someone else was.

I looked
around, hoping to see someone familiar. Someone who could have killed Sylvia, but everyone around me was a stranger and as the night dragged on, they all left one by one. I waited, anxiously biting my nails, for the coroner to come or the police to find me, but absolutely nothing happened. One minute the police were there, and the next, they too were gone.

Somewhat surprised, I made my way to the hotel. It was well after midnight, closer to three and the only one awake was
the night manager who looked up in surprise as I entered. “Your friend Jesse stopped by a few minutes ago,” Lizzie said. “He said he tried to reach you on your phone.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone.
Dead.
I shoved the phone back in my purse and zipped it up. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“No, he said he was going out and that he’d be back in a few minutes. I think he was going to check out what was happening by the old pier.” She leaned forward and in a hushed tone, said, “He sure ducked out of here fast when the police showed up. What do you think they were looking for?”

I shrugged before deftly changing the subject, which was much easier to do with no-nonsense Lizzie than the dynamic duo I had been with earlier in the evening. She was filling me in on some minor problems that had come up, when Blake strolled up to the desk, wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

“Did you see all that
excitement out there?” he asked excitedly. “Wow, I had a prime viewing location from my balcony. I saw it all. It was like watching an episode of CSI. They had dogs out there and everything.” He drummed his fingers on the desk and swung his hips to an imaginary beat as he babbled about what he saw. When he finally got to the end of his story, he took a deep breath and added, “Pretty interesting, huh?”

I nodded wearily before s
aying good night to Lizzie and walking to the stairs. Blake trailed behind, yakking away about CSI—whether TV show or real life, I wasn’t sure, since he seemed to reference both as he spoke—as we climbed the stairs. I was so sleepy that I was barely paying attention when something he said woke me up like an electric shock. I stopped in the middle of the staircase and faced him, asking him to repeat what he had just said.

“I said that I was worried about you
when I saw the police out there digging.”

“Why would you be worried about me?”
I asked, my heart beating fast. He looked up at me from the lower step and slowly smiled. He looked the very picture of the Cheshire Cat with his mischievous green eyes and bright white teeth set in an unnaturally wide smile. I realized we were having another one of those conversations again. The kind that set my teeth on edge. The kind where he hints that he knows something, but never comes out and says what it is. I almost wished that he would. If he did, then I could stop wondering, but so far, he had just been making hints. Playing with me. “What do you want, Blake?”

“Want?
Nothing but a warm bed.” He yawned widely and stretched. “Good food and a little company. A job couldn’t hurt, either.”


A job?” I asked as I continued the rest of the way up the stairs. That was a surprise. I assumed he was going to ask for money.
That is, if he was actually blackmailing me.
I looked back at him in irritation.

I suspected that it wasn’t the blackmailer’s job to make it easy on his
victim, but I assumed they would at least make it clear that they were in fact trying to blackmail a person. Although, I had to admit, whoever it was who sent Felix back to me, hadn’t actually revealed their purpose in sending the flamingo back. They hadn’t asked for money or made any demands as of yet, which I figured would have to be one of the elements of blackmail. Otherwise, how else did you know you were being blackmailed? “You want your gardening job back?”

“No, no.
” He raced up the stairs ahead of me and turned around. “I feel that my talents lie in a different direction.”

“Such as?”

He opened his arms wide. “Hotel security. Now, see I’ve noticed a problem. There have been quite a few things going missing around here. A necklace here, a bracelet there …” He paused as we reached the landing. “The garden flamingo.”

I felt an icy cold feeling wash through me as he began to circle around me.
Finally. He certainly took long enough to get to it the point.

“Now take that flamingo that always sat in the yard,” he said. “Why, he was the hotel mascot and now he’s gone. Just up and vanished. Now, where did he go?”

“Got me. Do you know?”

He was behind me now. I could feel his breath on my shoulder. “
Nope, but it is a puzzler, isn’t it? You need someone who can take care of these things for you, Ms. Hart. Put a stop to all of these problems.”

I turned my head and looked back at him. “
And you’re just the man for the job.”

“Well, I could sure try,” he
said, coming around in front of me. “I’ve even got a suspect in mind.”

So, did I.
Figuring I might as well play along, I asked him whom he had in mind.

He put his arm around my shoulder and turned me around. “Take your
new boyfriend, for instance. Do you know what he and Danielle have been up to? He showed up in town a few months ago and latched onto her pretty tight. Was asking all sorts of questions about her. Following her around. Getting close to her. Clear stalker conduct if you ask me. I tried to warn Danielle about him, but … well, she just considers that type of behavior as romantic.” He rolled his eyes. “Go figure. Just how well do you really know him?”

I shrugged
his arm off my shoulder. “I’ve known him since I was five years old.”

“Yeah, but he
left. Skipped town.” His eyebrows rose meaningfully. “Just what has he been up to? And why did he leave all of a sudden all those years ago? And just why did he come back? And just who has been stealing all those nice pretty jewels that walk through this hotel. Things to ponder, don’t you think?”


You can’t pin those thefts on Jesse. He’s wasn’t even here when most of the jewelry went missing.”

Blake cocked his head to the side.
“Who told you that?” Without waiting for my answer, he held up his hands. “Now don’t decide just yet. Think about it. Sleep on it and when you’ve decided, come and see me. You know where to find me.”

I leaned against the
railing and watched him walk back down the stairs. I hated to admit it, but he did have a point about Jesse. I didn’t really know him. Not anymore, and then there was his relationship with Danielle.

I was just about to walk to my room when someone flew out of the revolving doors. With her wet red hair in
wild disarray around her face, I barely recognized the usually stylish reporter. Beatrix Allen came to a standstill in the middle of the lobby. She was covered from head to toe in wet sand and seaweed. Scowling, she surveyed the lobby as a handful of wet sand plopped down from her shoulder to my nice clean floor. “Where is she?” she asked Lizzie who looked at her in confusion.

With a groan
, I turned and started back down the stairs, wondering what had happened to the woman and why she needed to talk to me. I made it halfway down, when I realized with a start that Beatrix wasn’t looking for me. Her eyes passed right by me and moved on, obviously searching for someone else. I found out a few seconds later, when Danielle came barreling out of the elevator. She rushed up to the reporter. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been so scared. I’ve been hiding up on the fourth floor all day long. Did you find her?”

Beatrix’s eyes narrowed. Her eye began to twitch
as she plucked a piece of seaweed out of her wet hair. “No, I did not.”

Danielle took a step back.
“What?” she screeched.

I watched as
Beatrix grabbed Danielle’s arm and dragged her into the sunroom. She pushed her into one of the cushioned chairs before turning and slamming the glass door shut.

Figuring that
they were referring to Sylvia and that I might learn something important, I dashed toward the hallway next to the sunroom and then toward another doorway that opened up into that room. I carefully opened it up a few inches and leaned forward. I was pretty far away from them, but it was lucky for me that neither Beatrix nor Danielle was in any mood to be quiet. I winced slightly as both raised their voices at one another.
I could have stayed where I was in the lobby and heard them just as well
, I thought, sliding to the floor to get a look at them from behind a potted plant.

“What’s wrong?
” Danielle yelled. “I told you exactly where she was.”

“Well, she wasn’t there. Nothing was there. Nothing but sand, shells, rusty nails, broken bottles and seaweed.”
Beatrix removed another piece of seaweed. It dropped to the tiled floor with a resounding plop. “Lots of seaweed.”

“Just how incompetent are you?” Danielle asked. “I told you exactly where she was buried. You obviously were in the wrong place.”

Beatrix sucked in her breath. “I dug exactly where you told me to dig and when I didn’t uncover anything, I went to the police.”

Danielle flinched. “The police? You called the police?”

“Yep, and do you know what happened?” she asked advancing on the other woman.

Shaking her head, Danielle took a few steps away from the irate reporter.

“Other reporters found out. They came in droves. It would have been fine, if…”
she said, her voice beginning to take on a quality only dogs could understand, “they had found a body. This is worse than when they tried to open Capone’s vault. I will never be able to live this down. Never.” She shook her finger in Danielle’s face. “The cops demanded to know who my source was.”


Bu-but you didn’t tell them?” Danielle squeaked. “You couldn’t have. It’s a rule, right? You can’t tell them.”

Beatrix stood there in silence
for a few seconds, letting the other woman sweat a little. She finally said, “No, I didn’t tell them. Luke Casey, though … Your name kept coming up, sweetie. I think he suspects that I got my information from you. Not that it was good information.”

“Well, that’s great. I should have gone to that other reporter at the
Herald
. At least he knows how to treat a lady.”

“Oh, shut up,” Beatrix responded. “They were fishing
for information, but I refused to tell them. Just because they know, doesn’t mean anything.”

Danielle crossed her arms.
“I can’t believe they couldn’t find Sylvia. We’ll go out together and look for her body. I’ll take you right to her.”

“No, count me out. So far, nothing you’ve said has panned out. I’m through with you.

“But I can prove
Anna killed Sylvia and her uncle.”

Beatrix opened the sunroom door and stepped out. “Yeah, right. When you get actual proof, come and see
me, but otherwise, lose my number.” She slammed the door shut, causing it to shake on its hinges.

Danielle sat back against the cushion and studied her fingernails, “There has to be a way to prove it,” she muttered to herself.

The sound of her cell phone ringing caught her attention. She reached into her purse and pulled out the phone. “Wonderful, just wonderful,” she said nervously before putting it to her ear and giving the caller a cheerful greeting.

“What? … No, I had no idea.” She threw one leg over the wicker armrest and began to play with the hem of her halter-top sundress. “You’re kidding! … Really? … No, of course, I didn’t say anything …” She groaned slightly before dropping her voice to a whisper. “Oh, all right, yes I did. Big deal. Where is Sylvia? I thought you said she was buried next to the old pier. Do you know how embarrassed I was?” She let out a little giggle. “I thought Beatrix was going to kill me … Oh, stop worrying. So what if they find Sylvia’s body. Everyone will believe Anna killed her.”

She stood up and began to walk toward my hiding place. I slipped back out and leaned against the hallway wall.

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