Paint the Town Dead Read online

  After she got a good look at the photo, Ian put it back in his wallet and stood up. “I need to get back to work.”

  Rory cleared her throat. “I know you lied about the man in the video, the one you were arguing with. You said he was a fired employee, but I found out he’s a local PI, Oscar Carlton. Why did you hire him?”

  The hotel manager turned toward Rory and plastered a rigid smile on his face. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business.”

  “Maybe the police will be interested in seeing the video.”

  The veins bulged on the man’s neck, and Rory could tell his patience was wearing thin. “If you must know, I hired him to find out who was sabotaging the hotel.” He raised his hand in the air as if to stave off any questions. “Before you say you’ll call the owner of the Akaw to verify my statement, he doesn’t know about it. I used my own money. I don’t like the idea of someone messing around with my hotel. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

  Before Rory could ask anything else, the hotel manager headed out the door.

  Rory frowned. She didn’t know whether to believe the man or not. His explanation didn’t jibe with Candy’s description of the matter as a cold case involving Seattle, but the PI’s assistant could have been wrong. Some more investigation was necessary before deciding if Ian was telling the truth or not.

  Rory rejoined her friend in the lobby and the two of them walked to a popular lunch spot, perched on the hill above the coastline. They sat at a table on the patio and studied their menus.

  After they ordered, Liz said, “What did you talk to Ian about?”

  Rory quickly brought her friend up to date on what the hotel manager had said about Oscar Carlton.

  “Seems reasonable he’d hire someone to find out who’s after the hotel. The police haven’t had much luck.” Liz took a sip of her ice tea and sat back in her chair. “Now, where are we with the investigation?”

  “Everything is muddled in my mind. I think we need to take some notes.” Rory grabbed a clean paper napkin from the dispenser on the table and started writing down everything they’d learned so far, with Liz providing a suggestion here and there. Before long, a list of suspects and possible motives covered the white rectangle.

  After staring at the notes for a few minutes, Rory finally said, “Makes me sad looking at this.” She put the napkin down on the table between the two of them.

  Liz studied the list. “Peter’s still the best bet. He has the most strikes against him. He had easy access to her medication, their marriage was on the rocks, and he was seen in the hotel going into the ballroom during the alarm.”

  “Assuming Hulbert wasn’t mistaken,” Rory pointed out. “Peter said he was at work. Let’s say Peter was in the hotel, he could’ve taken advantage of the fire alarm. Everything was a bit chaotic. But that’s leaving a lot up to chance.”

  “That fire alarm was awfully convenient.”

  “Maybe too convenient. Peter could’ve pulled the alarm to get everyone out of the hotel. He would know what Jasmine’s class schedule was.”

  “Brandy could be involved. If the two of them were having an affair, they could have been in on it together. We can’t forget about that,” Liz said.

  “Good point. Let’s move on.” Rory stabbed at a line on the napkin with her finger. “Nixie. That girl, Tempest, said she told Jasmine about Nixie having embezzled money in her last job.”

  “If she’s telling the truth, that’s a good motive for murder.”

  “Especially if Jasmine discovered proof when she was doing the books for the convention. She had Nixie’s laptop. There might have been something on it.”

  “We didn’t find any evidence of embezzling when we searched Jasmine’s hotel room,” Liz said.

  “Could be on paper, could be on a flash drive. Or Nixie could have retrieved it after Jasmine died.” Rory frowned and sat back in her chair. “There might be other motives out there we haven’t even heard about. There’s still Ian. Something’s off with him. I don’t believe him when he says he hired Oscar Carlton to investigate the sabotage.”

  “Ian has access to every room in the hotel. He could have gotten the medication out of Jasmine’s room. Plus he knows where all the security cameras are.” With her fork, Liz speared the last strawberry in her bowl of fruit and waved it in the air. “But what’s his motive?”

  “Jasmine overheard that conversation between him and the PI. Who knows what they talked about. Probably something far more incriminating than hiring him to investigate the sabotage.”

  “Did you ever track all of Jasmine’s movements on Wednesday?”

  Rory put down her cheeseburger and consulted the list she’d entered in the app on her phone. “Candy said Jasmine went to Oscar’s office that morning. That must have been before she worked at the VivEco booth. She went straight to your class after that. She called Peter and told him about the alarm, then she went up in the elevator and got off on her floor before she returned to class. That’s all I know.”

  “Was she drinking or eating anything during class? Do you remember? I was busy teaching and didn’t really notice. Then she collapsed...” Liz said between bites.

  Rory closed her eyes, trying to picture Jasmine’s work area. “A soda. I remember her drinking from a bottle of soda. That must have been what the drug was put in. Any idea where the bottle went? You packed her things up. Did you throw it out?”

  Liz scrunched up her face in concentration. “It’s all a bit of a haze. I emptied her water basin and shoved everything at her station in her roller bag. I wasn’t really thinking straight. I’m pretty sure that included the bottle. Where’s the bag now? Did Peter get it from the convention office?”

  “It was still there earlier today. We can go find it when we get back to the hotel.” Rory pursed her lips in thought. “So assuming we’re right about how and when she was dosed, who had access to the bottle?”

  “Pretty much everyone. Anyone could have slipped into the ballroom after the alarm sounded.”

  Rory cast her mind back to the day of the fire alarm and tried to remember what she had seen in the chaos that had ensued after the alarm went off. “I remember Ian at the front desk. He could have walked around and gone into all the ballrooms. No one would think twice about the hotel manager checking to make sure they were all empty. The same goes for Nixie. She must have been around there somewhere, but I don’t remember seeing her.”

  “With everyone out of the room, how did the killer know what station was Jasmine’s?”

  “Good question.” Rory tried to picture Jasmine’s workspace again to see if there was anything distinctive about it. “Her roller bag. She painted a design on it that included her name, remember? Find the place with the roller bag and you’d find her things.”

  Liz nodded her head in agreement. “So what do we do now?”

  Rory stared at the waves rolling onto the beach and gathered her thoughts. “Let’s start with the roller bag and Ian. We’ll take care of the bag when we get to the hotel. As for Ian...we need to find out more about this case the PI was working on. Do you have Candy’s phone number? I think we should talk to her again.”

  “I’ll make the call.” Liz took her cell phone out of her purse and dialed the woman’s number.

  When they got back to the hotel, the two split up in the lobby. Rory headed to the convention office to retrieve Jasmine’s roller bag, but when she got to her destination the bag was no longer there and no one knew where it went. She continued her search, taking the elevator to the top floor of the hotel in case someone had brought it to Jasmine’s room. She was walking down the hallway when she noticed a familiar figure knocking at a door at the end of the hall. She was about to call out Brandy’s name when the door opened and the woman slipped inside.

  Rory stood stock still. Brandy had never mentioned staying at the hotel. She lived with her aunt only two blocks away. There was no need for her to be here, especially at this time of day when she sh
ould be caring for her ailing relative. Unless Brandy and Peter were having an affair. They could have lied when they told her the kiss was a one-time thing.

  Rory wondered if she was mistaken. She’d only seen the woman from the back, plus she had been some distance away. While she was pretty sure it was Brandy, she couldn’t be positive. The more she thought about it, the less sure she became. Rory took note of the room number, hoping she would have an opportunity to discover who had booked it later, and unlocked the door to Jasmine’s room.

  She was heading toward the closet when she saw the elegantly clad body lying on the bed, a washcloth draped across the woman’s forehead. Viveca propped herself up on her elbows and said in a weak voice, “Aurora, is that you? What are you doing in here?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was using the room. Are you all right?”

  “Jasmine gave me a key in case she needed me to get her up. I have such a headache, I came up for a short nap. Did you need something?”

  At least now she knew who had the second key to the room, Rory thought. Though she wasn’t sure what difference that made to her investigation. She couldn’t picture Viveca harming her favorite niece. “Jasmine borrowed a brush from me the other day. I think she put it in her painting bag. Have you seen it?”

  Viveca waved her hand in the general direction of the closet. “It’s in there. A bellhop just brought it up.”

  “Thanks. I’ll just be a minute.”

  Jasmine’s aunt lay back down and closed her eyes, placing the washcloth over her forehead once again.

  Rory slid the closet door open and rummaged through the roller bag’s contents, moving aside palette paper, the project from Liz’s class, and various other odds and ends until she found the plastic soda bottle tucked among the painting supplies. What looked to her to be about a teaspoon of liquid covered the bottom of the bottle. From everything she’d read, that should be more than enough for the police to test for the presence of GHB.

  Rory reached inside the bag to pick the bottle up and take it with her when she thought better of the idea. She’d leave it in the room and tell the police where to find it. That way no one could say she’d contaminated the evidence. Instead, she picked up a mop brush and held it up so Viveca could see it. “Got it. Sorry to disturb you. Hope your headache is better soon.”

  Rory was turning toward the door when Viveca held up a hand. “Wait. Aurora, could I ask you to do something for me? With me up here, Hully’s shorthanded in the booth again. He didn’t want to impose on you, but could you help him out? Just for an hour or so?”

  Rory went over her schedule in her mind. “I’m working at my mom’s booth soon. I can help out at VivEco until then.”

  “Whatever time you can spare.”

  After promising to get to the booth as soon as she could, Rory headed down to the lobby. When the elevator stopped at the next floor, a bellhop who looked to be about college age, dressed in an Aloha shirt and khakis, entered, smiled at her and pressed the “close door” button.

  She stared at him thoughtfully. “Excuse me,” she said. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you know how I can find out who’s in a particular room?”

  “I’m afraid the front desk won’t allow us to reveal that information, but you can call the room on one of the hotel phones. They’ll be happy to connect you.”

  “Is there any other way?” She sidled closer to him and batted her eyelashes.

  The bellhop was so short he had to crane his neck to look at her.

  Rory stared down into his eyes, and said in her sultriest voice, “Can’t you help me?”

  “Um, well, um, I don’t know.” He gulped and, plastering a nervous smile on his face, pressed the lobby button several times, mumbling something about the elevator usually not taking so long.

  Rory leaned against the back of the car. She should have known her efforts at charming information out of the bellhop wouldn’t work. She was trying to come up with another approach when the doors opened and a couple in their eighties walked in, holding hands.

  Forgetting about her quest for a moment, Rory smiled at the couple and wondered if she would ever find someone she could grow old with. She pictured a gray-haired version of herself, walking along the beach hand in hand with her husband, enjoying one of many sunsets. Her companion turned toward her. She almost gasped out loud as she recognized Detective Green’s ruggedly handsome face. She was shaking her head, trying to clear the image from her mind, when the bellhop said to the couple, “How’s the honeymoon going?”

  The question brought Rory out of her reverie. Her mouth involuntarily dropped open, and the bellhop winked at her. For the rest of the ride down to the lobby, the couple discussed the best restaurants within walking distance of the hotel with the employee. The bellhop pocketed the tip the husband handed him and glanced over at Rory, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  When they all exited the elevator on the lobby level, the bellhop drew her aside and looked shyly up at her. “I, uh, thought about what you asked. I can get you that information if you want me to.”

  Rory wondered what had caused him to reconsider. “That would be great.” She told him the room number and waited for him to go somewhere to access the information, but he just stood there and stared at her pointedly.

  Only when he held out his hand did she realize what he wanted. Wondering what the going rate for information was these days, she drew her wallet out of the pocket of her jeans and pulled a five into view. The bellhop frowned and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. She pulled up another five, then a ten. It wasn’t until she pulled out a Jackson that he smiled his approval.

  After she gave him the money, he said, “Wait right here.”

  Rory didn’t know how private investigators did it. She hoped she didn’t have to pay anyone else for information. Otherwise, it was going to cost her a small fortune. She studied the picture on a nearby wall, pretending to be fascinated by every detail, while she waited for the bellhop to return. She’d almost decided he’d taken her money without any intention of giving her the information she wanted when he walked toward her and pressed a slip of paper into the palm of her hand.

  On a yellow Post-it note was written a name in an almost illegible hand. “Kym Hough. Are you sure this is right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As the man left, Rory studied the unfamiliar name. She must have been mistaken about Brandy entering the room, after all. She continued to puzzle over it as she walked toward the trade show floor. She was halfway to the Hermosa ballroom when Rory spotted Detective Green heading into the management offices. She tried to flag him down to tell him about the bottle, but he waved her away. Afraid she’d forget to tell the detective later, Rory left a message with an officer at the police station, giving him all of the details about the bottle. Satisfied she’d done everything she could, she headed to work at the VivEco booth.

  Chapter 21

  The rest of the afternoon, Rory split her time between the Scrap ’n Paint and VivEco booths. She was waiting in the lobby for Liz when her friend raced over to her.

  “Dinner will have to wait,” Liz said. “We have to go now.”

  Minutes later, the two young women stood in a narrow alley behind Oscar Carlton’s office, hidden by a dumpster, waiting for their contact to signal the coast was clear.

  Rory wrinkled her nose at the smell of rotting garbage that assailed her nostrils. She stepped as far away from the metal container as possible while still remaining hidden. She longed to get out of the alley before eau de garbage once again became her cologne.

  “Are you sure she’s coming?” Rory whispered.

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be here,” Liz whispered back.

  “Why does she keep helping us? She must have some sense of loyalty to her boss.”

  “I think that flew out the window when she discovered he had money, but still didn’t pa
y her. Besides, once her own PI office is set up, she’ll be getting lots of referrals from me and every real estate agent I know. That’s worth a lot.”

  They waited in the shadows, not saying a word, their gazes riveted on the single-story building where the PI’s office was located. They both jumped at a mouse that emerged from behind a dumpster farther down the alley and scurried away. When Rory felt she couldn’t take the faint rustles and squeaks coming from nearby any longer, Oscar Carlton’s assistant poked her head out of the alley door. “Psst! Are you there?”

  Rory and Liz emerged from the shadows and walked as quietly as possible toward the doorway where Candy stood waiting for them.

  The woman opened the door wider and ushered them inside. “Come on, you have to hurry. Oscar left, but I don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”

  Rory and Liz stepped into the back room of the PI’s office, a small storage area that doubled as a kitchenette. A single bulb hung overhead, giving off little light. Rory could make out a small refrigerator and coffeepot as well as various bankers boxes that she assumed contained files of cases long closed, given up on, or forgotten.

  “Okay. Oscar’s office is around the corner. What you’re looking for is in there somewhere. Here.” Candy pressed a key into Rory’s palm. “This opens Oscar’s desk.”

  “Won’t he miss it?”

  “Doesn’t even know I have it. I made a copy. Just stick it under the phone on my desk when you’re done.”

  “Wait, aren’t you going to stay and be our lookout?” Rory asked.

  “It’s more than my job is worth. Just close this door when you’re done.” Candy gestured toward the entrance they’d come in through. “It’ll lock behind you. Good luck.”

  After the assistant left, Rory and Liz peeked around the corner into the main area. Candy’s desk sat in the middle of the small room, facing a picture window which gave a view of the street. A bathroom was on the far side of the room opposite the PI’s office. After making sure the coast was clear, the two of them tiptoed across the floor. They entered Oscar’s windowless office, closed the door behind them, and turned on the overhead light.