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Frosted (Moreno & Hart Mysteries) Page 6
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“Stop. You like me. But there’s nothing here. I like you, too, Adam. I’ve forgiven you for being an ass because I realized that you didn’t intend to be an ass. But there is nothing between us. Nothing. I’ll help you with this situation, and then I’m leaving.”
Scarlet slipped into the chair across from Krista. “Well, aren’t you two getting chummy.” She winked at Adam.
Krista glared at her and then noticed the expression on her face. Scarlet had new information. “What did John say?”
Scarlet looked at Adam. “Seems someone searched your apartment top to bottom, Adam.”
“Someone broke in?” he asked in disbelief.
“You keep your key under the mat. Who else knows about it?”
“I—I don’t know. Not many people. Just my friends.”
Krista tipped her head back and sighed, exasperated. Everyone was a friend to Adam.
“It’s a temporary apartment,” he said. “I bought a place in Hermosa Beach, right there on the beach—you’d love it, Kay—the surf, the sand. A huge wall of windows opens right onto the deck and—”
“Focus!” she snapped.
“I—I had already sold my other place and there needed to be some work done on the beach house. I rented the apartment for a couple of months. I don’t even have anything valuable there, it’s mostly in storage. I thought the house would be ready when I got back from Africa, but it’s not. They said two more weeks.”
Krista tried to figure out what Adam meant. “So,” she said, “you’re telling me that not very many people knew you had the apartment, that you don’t have anything of value there because all your important things are in storage.”
“Yeah! Exactly.”
Scarlet slid over her phone. “Here are the photos my brother took of your place. Can you tell if anything is missing?”
Adam scrolled through the pictures, obviously upset and confused. “Why would someone do this?”
“Is anything missing?”
“I can’t tell. I don’t think so.”
“They didn’t take your iPod.”
“It’s not worth much,” he said.
“But it’s easy to lift and sell. You don’t see anything missing?”
“No. They made a mess. I need to go back.”
“Stay put for now,” Scarlet said. “John is filing a police report and you can amend it later if you discover something is gone. The manager is going to change the lock, and you can get the new key from him when you return.”
“They were looking for something specific,” Krista said.
“That’s what John and I think,” Scarlet said.
“I don’t have anything that’s worth much,” Adam said.
“Did you buy anything in Africa?” Krista asked. “Art? Jewelry?”
“No—I sent postcards to my friends, and I got my mom this pretty scarf. It’s white. You look pretty in white, Krista.”
She was going to strangle him. No one would blame her, right? “You bought nothing else while you were there? As a souvenir? For yourself?”
He thought for a moment and shook his head. “Some clothes. That’s it.”
“Let’s go back to the lodge,” Scarlet said. “And Adam—tonight I want you to think about what you might have that would prompt someone to poison you to get you out of your apartment.”
Krista understood exactly what Scarlet was thinking. “If he was sick, really sick, he would go to the hospital.”
“And someone could search his apartment,” Scarlet said.
“But that didn’t work because he didn’t get sick.”
“So they had to find another way to get him out of town.”
“After he left for the resort, they searched the apartment.”
“And didn’t find what they were looking for, so followed him to the resort.”
“Tried to search the suite while Adam was skiing.”
“And you were there,” Scarlet said. “So they still haven’t found whatever it is they’re looking for.”
Krista and Scarlet looked at Adam. “Dave’s the one who convinced you to vacation here,” Krista said.
Adam shook his head. “Dave? Yeah, but—wait, are you thinking ... No! He wouldn’t do anything like this. He’s here with me because we’re friends.”
“Dave could have hired someone,” Krista said.
Adam looked truly upset. “Dave’s my manager, but he’s also a friend. I wouldn’t have any of these roles without him. He wants me to succeed. He only makes money when I make money. I mean, I pay Trina out of pocket, but Dave only gets a commission on what I earn.”
Krista glanced at Scarlet. Was she thinking what Krista was thinking? Scarlet nodded. Good, they were on the same wavelength.
“Adam,” Krista said quietly, “could this all be a publicity stunt?”
“No! I promised you that I wouldn’t lie to you. I haven’t, I swear.”
“Could Dave have put this all together without telling you?”
“No,” Adam said again. He stood up, agitated. “I don’t understand you, Krista. Why are you suspicious of everyone? I trust Dave. He would never do anything to hurt me, and he knows I was freaked out after the champagne. That’s why we wanted to get away this weekend.”
The waiter came over with the check. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brock, we’ve been busy—is there anything else I can get you?”
“The car.” Adam handed the waiter his credit card. “We’re going.”
#
Scarlet drove the Jeep in the thick fog, her wipers on intermittent to help visibility, defrost on max. Adam sat in the back, his head against the window. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. The guy needed to grow up, but she understood how upsetting it could be to find out the people you trusted the most might be using you. Lying to you.
It reminded her of her conversation with her brother yesterday, when he didn’t joke back to her. He was hiding something. Maybe not lying, but definitely keeping something from her. She was about to ask Krista if she’d noticed anything odd about John’s behavior over the last month or so, when her partner said, “If Dave is responsible for this as a publicity stunt, it was a bust, so why hire someone to break into the suite?”
“And why toss his apartment?” Scarlet added.
“Remember the day you were assigned as my trainer?” Krista asked.
“I’ll never forget. I think I told you to keep your mouth shut.” Scarlet almost smiled. “I didn’t want to be a trainer.”
“You scared me. But I was determined to stick it out. I wanted to be a cop, a good cop, so badly, and you were one of the best. You’d made detective after just five years. You had a reputation—”
Scarlet snorted. “Hardly.”
“You did. Mostly good—yeah, sure, you were intimidating, opinionated and bitchy, and some of the guys hated you, but that’s because you didn’t take their bullshit. You never made a big deal about being a female cop—you were a cop first and last, never playing the game.”
“We all had to play the game. It’s part of the old boys’ network. I just decided to take it head on because I don’t play politics well.”
“I wanted to do that, too. But anyway, after telling me to keep my mouth shut, you gave me the best advice I’ve ever received. You said, ‘Trust your gut.’ I’d always heard about how cops developed instincts after years of training and being on the job, but I was a rookie practically right out of the academy, and you told me to trust my gut. And I have—it’s saved my ass, it’s saved your ass, and so far, it’s never been wrong.”
“And what’s your gut saying now?”
“This isn’t a publicity scam. This is real. Dave is up to something, but I don’t think he’s the one behind the notes or the champagne or tossing Adam’s apartment.”
“Whoever trashed Adam’s apartment was looking for something.”
“And why not search while he was in South Africa for ten days?”
“Because whatever they’re looking for wasn’t in the apartment
until Adam came back.”
“Bingo.”
Scarlet loved talking things out with Krista. “And the apprentice has become the master,” she teased.
Krista laughed. “You were a good instructor, Obi-Wan.”
“Adam said he didn’t bring anything back from South Africa—just clothes, right?”
Krista turned in her seat, “Adam, do you have those clothes here with you?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You weren’t listening to our conversation?”
“Not really. I was thinking.”
Deep thinking, Scarlet thought.
“The clothes you bought in South Africa—did you bring them here with you?”
“I guess—why?”
“This all started when you returned from that shoot. Scarlet and I think the break-in might have to do with something that happened overseas, something you bought, or borrowed, or were given.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
He shrugged. “You can check everything out. I don’t care.”
Scarlet rounded the last turn and the lodge came into view, a welcome beacon on a cold, foggy night.
A second later, the lights went out. The lodge was black. The only lights were Scarlet’s headlamps cutting a surreal path in the misty night.
“Shit,” she muttered. She stopped the Jeep just short of the roundabout and drew her gun. “You got him, Krista?”
Krista had her own gun in hand. “Yes.”
Scarlet left the keys in the ignition and the Jeep running as she got out. Krista slid into the driver’s seat and locked the car.
Scarlet kept away from the Jeep lights, her boots sinking into the snow as she stayed off the path in case someone was lurking.
Damn, damn, damn.
Her feet were already freezing. She stopped for a moment, her back against a redwood tree, listening and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark. Who was in the lodge? The wedding party was still at the restaurant. If Mr. Oliver, the asshole manager, was right that meant the only guests left in the lodge were Dave and Trina.
Plus there was the staff—Mr. Oliver, the night manager, Chad, Vince, those who worked in the restaurant and housekeeping. Maybe eight, ten employees.
But there were other places to stay in the area, such as the motel five miles down the mountain. The ski lodge they’d been to earlier had a hotel attached. There were private residences throughout the mountain and the small town of Bear Springs where Adam’s car was being fixed. Plenty of places for someone to stay, waiting for the right time to make their move on Adam.
Trust your gut. The advice Scarlet had given Krista as a rookie cop was advice she also lived by, and her gut said it was no coincidence that the power had gone out as soon as she’d driven within sight of the lodge. Someone had been waiting for them.
She looked back at the Jeep. No one was approaching the vehicle. No one had come out of the lodge or the storage shed—which was more than a shed because it housed all the ATVs and snow plow equipment for the facility. It was like a small warehouse. If all had gone well, they would have driven up to the door and left the Jeep to be taken to the garage by the valet. The two of them would have been easily able to protect Adam. But it was dark, and someone may have thought they’d have the element of surprise. And some people looked at a female P.I. —especially one who was slender and petite like Krista—and thought they could take her out. Most people wouldn’t assume that they’d both been cops, that they’d been trained, that Scarlet was a marksman or Krista had a black belt.
With the lights out, that gave Scarlet’s group the disadvantage if they entered the lodge, because they could be jumped from the entrance or behind.
What if they assumed she wouldn’t wait for the valet, but drive all three of them into the garage? Why cut the lights in the lodge? To force them to stay out here? A lot of assumptions. And nothing felt logical.
Scarlet’s feet weren’t getting any warmer or dryer standing in the snow. She peered around the redwood and saw no one. Staying as close to the trees as she could, she trudged as quickly as possible toward the lodge. But instead of going up the front steps, she walked around to the back. The wide deck circled the lodge and had several access points. In the rear of the lodge, the restaurant and bar opened up onto the deck, but would the bar even be open tonight when all the guests were at the other restaurant?
As she rounded the back, the glow of several heat lamps illuminated the deck, making the trees and snow-covered mountain even darker.
Cautiously, she trekked up the mountainside, sinking into the snow and getting icy chunks in her boots. She stayed low until she reached the stairs that led to the deck, and then shook the snow out as best she could and walked up the stairs.
No one was on the deck.
Scarlet stayed close to the building as she crept over to the doors. The wall was made of glass, and anyone waiting for her would most certainly see her from the glow of lamps. But she didn’t really have a choice, so she picked up speed and pushed open the doors.
Inside, it was quiet. She walked away from the windows, toward the bar area where a fire burned in a huge stone fireplace. Movement in the bar had her shifting her gun to her left.
“Hey!” a voice said.
She couldn’t make out the figure. “Who are you?”
“Vince. I’m working the bar tonight. What’s going on?”
Vince, the flirty bellhop who’d carried her bags.
“You tell me.” She pointed her gun down and away from him.
“The power went out. It happens sometimes.”
“Isn’t there a back-up generator?”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
No help whatsoever. Scarlet glanced around. She didn’t see anyone else in the lobby. “Is there really no one here?”
“The wedding party is at the restaurant up the road. They’ll be back by eleven and asked us to keep the bar open until midnight.”
“What I meant was, is it true that only the wedding people and Adam Brock’s group are in the lodge this weekend?”
“Oh—yeah. We only have thirty-eight rooms, plus the three suites on the penthouse level. The wedding booked everything but the penthouse.”
“What staff is here?”
“Uh, most everyone. Because of the wedding. There are rooms over the garage for staff.”
“But here—in the lodge.”
“Mr. Oliver. Me. Janice in the kitchen until ten.”
Scarlet had seen no movement in the lobby. She left Vince in the bar and walked along the edge of the room, up the three stairs to the lobby level. The power hadn’t come back on. Why wasn’t Vince checking on it? Was Mr. Oliver doing it?
She called Krista. “Vince the bell hop is in the bar. I don’t see anyone else here.”
“No one has approached us.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Maybe we should just leave the car here and go inside, secure Adam in his room.”
“Hold up a minute.” She had an idea. She pocketed her phone and ran across the lobby to the staircase. She tried to use her card key to unlock the door.
It didn’t work.
Well, shit. The power goes out and the electronic keys don’t work. If someone was planning an ambush, it wasn’t in the stairwell.
She went back to the main doors. She opened them slowly, looked around.
Movement to her left had her both ducking and pushing open the door, using it as a shield in case someone had a weapon.
The movement startled whoever was standing on the veranda. He turned and ran in the opposite direction. Scarlet pursued. The guy leaped over the edge of the railing and down into the snow bank. He wore black, and as she reached the edge she lost visual as he disappeared among the trees.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
She wanted to follow him, but visibility sucked in the light snowfall. Now, his tracks would be visible, but she didn’t know if they would be in the morning.
&
nbsp; She needed a flashlight and better shoes. And back-up. It would be foolish to track that bastard at night by herself, especially when she didn’t know the area well.
Frustrated, she walked back to the car.
Krista rolled down the window and said, “I saw someone run toward the garage.”
“He jumped off the porch. I didn’t want to follow when I don’t know where the hell he’s going, but I want to track him.”
“Let’s get Adam upstairs and secured first.”
“With the power out, the elevator and the card keys don’t work. Pull over to the side under the awning. We’ll hunt down Mr. Oliver and get the power back on.”
No sooner had Scarlet spoken when all the lights in the lodge turned on.
“And that concludes the evening’s power outage,” Krista said, glancing around. “Now it’s time to find out what the hell’s going on.”
Chapter Six
They settled Adam into the suite with Trina and Dave and instructed them all to stay put. After changing into heavy-duty boots, Scarlet and Krista went downstairs in search of Mr. Oliver.
They found him behind the front desk. His cheeks looked flushed and his tie was askew. Clearly, the power outage had rattled him.
“What happened?” Krista asked him. “The power was out for fifteen minutes.”
“I don’t really know.” He looked older than Scarlet had remembered and had a tremor in his voice. “I was in my room working on the books when the lights went out. I waited a minute—we have an automatic back-up generator. It’s not uncommon for the power to go out on occasion. But the back-up didn’t go on. I first went to the control room to check the fuses and the first thing I noticed was that the back-up generator switch had been turned off. We only do that during maintenance of the system. But that means that if the power goes out, the generator doesn’t know and won’t turn on.”
“So someone knows how your system works.”
He straightened his tie and seemed to get back some of his composure. “It’s a standard system,” he said stiffly.
“But it means,” Krista added, “that someone intentionally turned it off.”
“How many people work here, Mr. Oliver?” Scarlet asked.