Chapter 15 #2
And what if it had been Ricky who had chanced by instead of me?
Would Cole have made a play—another play?
—for him, too, like some kind of indiscriminate himbo?
Or had he been flirting with Ricky only because it was his job, while really being interested in me?
Either way, I was offended, and if it was the latter scenario, I questioned his judgment, since Ricky was clearly the better-looking of the two of us.
I pulled myself up to my full five feet, eight inches and, no longer finding anything particularly appealing about Cole, said icily, “No, thank you. I don’t have time to see your pickleball court. I need to get inside to Ricky.”
“Is he in there?” Cole said, tensing as if to rise from his bench. “Do you want me to come—”
“No!” I barked as I sailed haughtily past him into the lobby.
My line of sight into the lounge as I entered the lobby brought my curious gaze to rest on Cecilia Rose’s attorney, Bradley Benson, sitting at one of the tables in close conversation with a woman who had her back to me.
My first thought was that it was Lis, which made sense as she was Cecilia’s heir, but the hair was more auburn than red, and besides, I had left Lis down on the beach.
What was he talking about with Rachel Rose?
I knew Ricky would want a report, and I had by now completely forgotten that Ricky had decided that he and I were no longer a team.
I mentally scrambled for an excuse to loiter, hoping I could overhear something.
I ambled over to the desk, where Mary Alice was working at the computer and Erik was reading in a chair behind her.
“Thanks again,” I said, leaning an elbow on the desk. “For letting us keep the room, I mean. Really helped us out in a pinch.”
“It was my pleasure,” Mary Alice replied with a smile. Rachel and Benson had to be talking extremely quietly; no sound had carried in from the lounge so far. Of all the times for Rachel to discover discretion.
“Thanks for the ice, too,” I said, leaning further toward the partition with the lounge, straining to hear.
“Not a problem,” Erik piped up, looking up from his book. “You need some more?”
“Sure.” Thanks, Erik. A good reason to be here at last.
“I can bring some more down to your room.”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “Don’t do that. I’ll wait here, and then I can take it down.”
“O-o-okay,” Erik said, giving me a funny look as he got up from his seat.
I still hadn’t caught a peep from the lounge, which apparently meant I’d missed the conclusion of the meeting, as at that moment, Rachel swept out toward the elevator, followed shortly by the attorney, who joined me at the desk.
“Why hello, Mr. Popp. Hi, Mary Alice,” he said, turning quickly from his cordial but perfunctory greeting of me to flashing a warm smile at Mary Alice.
“Hi, Brad,” she said, beaming back.
“Hi,” he said again, still smiling. Something was going on between these two.
“Do you need something, Brad?”
“Mmm, yeah,” he said huskily, then, following her darting eyes and turning briefly to remember that I was there, he gave a little jump and said, “Yes. Right. I’m wondering if you have a room available for us to use tomorrow morning.
I need to read Cecilia’s will. I’d do it at her house, but the fire marshal’s still not letting anyone in, and everybody’s already here, so … ?”
“Hmm,” Mary Alice said, consulting her computer.
“We’ve still got a mostly full house. …” I felt a pang of guilt.
“I have two empty rooms,” she said, “but I’m not sure how everybody would feel about them.
One is the suite where Richard and Rachel were staying, and the other is the room below it, where Mr. Popp and Mr. Warner were staying until Richard fell. ”
“You probably don’t want to use the suite,” I said. “The sheriff’s office might want to come back for another look—you know, now that we’ve found the rug.”
Mary Alice and Brad both looked at me as if I was spewing gibberish.
“Didn’t Tawny say anything? About the rug? Down on the beach?”
“I haven’t seen Tawny,” Mary Alice said.
“But I suppose if the sheriff comes back, the suite will be off limits.” I wondered if perhaps Tawny had made the call to the sheriff from the parking lot, or if she had passed through the lobby when Mary Alice wasn’t around.
The sheriff would be coming, right? Tawny had seemed so eager to help, but it occurred to me now, too late, that maybe I should have stuck around long enough to make sure the report of the rug made it to the right place. Where had my head been?
“Maybe downstairs is better anyway,” Brad offered. “Folks might not even realize it’s the room where Richard fell.”
“Okay,” Mary Alice said. “Do you mind—can I run down there and see if we ever cleaned that room? If not, I’ll need to ask Erik to do it tonight. Excuse me a second,” she said, hustling to the elevator.
Brad turned his back to the desk and leaned against it with his elbows up behind him.
“So,” I said slowly. “Is that what you were meeting with Mrs. Rose about? The will?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny, your honor, what I was meeting with Mrs. Rose about,” he chuckled. “But, no, not about the will—at least, not directly. I’ve been consulting on a little matter for her.”
“Were you the attorney for Richard and Rachel as well?”
“No,” he said. “They live in California, so that wouldn’t have been very convenient. No, Rachel’s had a few questions about something that’s come up since they’ve been up here, so she asked me for some advice.”
I remembered something about Rachel meeting with a man while her daughters were at the movies, the night her husband had died. I wondered if this, not some far-fetched caper with a hitman, was the missing piece of that puzzle.
“So was this your first meeting?” I ventured, trying to still sound casual.
He gave me an amused grin. “You’re very curious. No, we met once before—the night her husband died, as a matter of fact, though before we knew about it. We had this little follow-up because that particular incident rather changed the contours of her problem, as you might imagine.”
“Aha,” was all I could get out before, at the same moment, the front doors opened, admitting Wiley and Lis, and the elevator doors opened, bearing Mary Alice and Erik.
“Brad, we’re all set for tomorrow,” Mary Alice called.
“Wonderful,” he replied, turning to Wiley and Lis. “Mr. Rose, Ms. Rose, this concerns both of you—especially you, Ms. Rose. We’ll be reading Cecilia’s will tomorrow morning, downstairs. Ten a.m., okay? Mary Alice can give you the room number.” He gave a cheery wave and headed for the doors.
Lis turned to Wiley as they walked to the elevator, a look of confusion on her face. “Did he say especially me? He said ‘Ms.,’ not ‘Mr.’?”
“Yes, that’s what he said,” Wiley said gruffly.
“Here’s your ice, Mr. Popp,” Erik said, holding out a dripping bag.
“Thanks,” I said, my head swirling as I tried to keep up with everything happening all at once.
“It’s no problem,” Erik shrugged. “But I really could have delivered it myself. The ice machine’s right next to your room.”