Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 04 - Dirty Deeds (8 page)

“Was there anyone in particular she was having trouble with? Maybe someone she argued with? Someone who threatened her?” We reached the stairs and started down them.

“What are you getting at?”

“I was just thinking about it, and someone had to know she was going to be here. They had to follow her from her home.”

He glanced at me and squinted. “So, you think someone from Atlanta is behind this?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s someone who knew her.”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “One of her colleagues is here this week. His name is Doug Matthews, I think.”

We reached the lobby and kept walking until we were outside. Warm sunlight hit us. Clint threw his head back and soaked it in for a moment, looking desperate for some sort of relief from the agony he had to be experiencing.

“Did she ever have any problems with Doug?”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t know. She didn’t talk about work a lot, especially not with me.”

“When did you guys get here?”

“Me and Jackie? We got here Saturday evening. Why?”

I ignored his question. “How about the rest of the Georgetown gang? When did they arrive?”

He rubbed his chin. “Derek and Lillian got here at lunchtime yesterday. That Jack guy probably came an hour later. Then you and your guy. Lane must have come when we were looking for Jackie.”

“Did you talk to anyone yesterday? Have lunch together?”

He stared at me a moment. “Do you think one of her friends is behind this?”

“I’m not thinking anything. I’m just asking questions.”

His hand moved from his chin to his cheek, the rubbing motion becoming more vigorous. “We chatted with Derek and Lillian in the lobby. That’s when Jackie said she wanted to go on a hike.”

“She didn’t invite her friends with her? They haven’t seen each other in years.”

“I dunno, man. They’d just gotten here and hadn’t even unpacked. That Lillian lady was wearing a suit—on a Sunday, and she hadn’t been to church.”

“Why didn’t you go with Jackie on the hike?”

“I fell from a ladder three months ago and broke my ankle. It hasn’t been the same since. Besides, there was a race on TV. I hung out at the bar to watch it.”

It sounded like he had an alibi. But what about Derek, Lillian, and Jack?

“What do you do for a living, Clint?” I leaned against one of the massive columns and watched as the valets scurried to help people arriving for their stay.

“I work construction.” He snorted. “I know. I’m terribly out of place here. I almost didn’t come. Now I kind of wish I hadn’t, and that I’d tried to convince Jackie to do the same. Maybe none of this would have happened then.”

“How’d you meet?”

“I was installing a new tennis court in her backyard. She thought I owned the company, but I was really just a peon.” He chuckled. “When she found out the truth, she forgave me. We were inseparable after that.”

“I know this must be hard on you.”

He picked up a rebellious piece of grass that had sprung up between the bricks and tossed it into a nearby rose bush. “Jackie’s mom doesn’t exactly like me. I just had to get out of that room with her and her new ‘man friend’ for a while. They’re driving me crazy, and they keep looking at me like I’m second-class. I’ve never exactly had their approval.”

“That’s hard. I can understand where you’re coming from.” I could. Maybe no one had ever said that to my face, but I still felt it. Riley always said it was only in my mind, but I didn’t one hundred percent believe him.

Clint looked at me and raised his chin, as if I passed some kind of brotherhood test. “At least there’s one person here this week who doesn’t think I’m no good because I get my hands dirty for a living.”

“People who get their hands dirty for a living are some of the best people I know. Honest, hardworking, bone tired at the end of the day. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He scuffed his feet against the bricks for a moment before looking up. “Thanks for listening, Gabby. I’ve got to get back to the firing squad inside, though.” He found a gum wrapper in his pocket, pulled out a pen, and jotted something down. “Here’s my phone number. If you hear anything, let me know.”

I shoved the paper in my pocket. “Is there anything else I can do?”

He frowned. “Just wait.”

“I’ll pray also.”

He nodded. “I’m not so sure God wants to do anything for me. I’ve messed up pretty bad.”

“You might be surprised. I know I was.” There couldn’t ever be truer words spoken.

He pointed inside. “I’m going to get back now. Thanks again for the talk.”

I watched him shuffle back inside.

I prayed this all would turn out well. But I had a strange feeling it wouldn’t.

CHAPTER 9

I grabbed lunch at the little market, having no desire to sit by myself in the massive, swanky dining hall. Riley had a lunchtime workshop today and couldn’t meet me, so I was on my own. I found a little wrought-iron table outside overlooking the pool area and sat down with my ham salad sandwich, some chunks of cantaloupe, and a bottle of water.

I could have seen a movie and bought a round of coffee for all of my friends for the amount this meal cost me. At least at breakfast you just signed this little paper, and the hotel charged your meal to your room bill. It was a lot less painful that way.

At least, until you got the bill.

Something jabbed me in the rear, so I reached into my back pocket, and pulled out Jackie’s phone. I’d forgotten I’d stuck it in there.

I hit the button and the screen lit. Several missed phone calls caught my eye. I pulled out my purse, found some paper and a pen, and jotted the numbers down. I really needed to return this to Clint, but I wanted to get some information first.

I tried to figure out Jackie’s code, so I could see what other interesting information might be on her phone. I couldn’t crack it, though.

I sighed and stared at the numbers instead. There were three that repeated several times. One had to be Clint’s, the other Jackie’s mom, and the third … I wasn’t sure.

I found the scrap of paper where Clint had jotted down his digits, and I compared it to my list. Interesting. I saw his number listed there twice.

Twice?

I’d expected him to try to call her uncountable times. Like, every five minutes or something.

But, no, he’d tried to call at 6 and then again at 7.

If I was worried about someone, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from calling as much as I could.

Out of curiosity, I pulled my own phone out and dialed the other number. The phone rang and rang. No answer. No machine. No voicemail.

Interesting.

I dialed the third number. Before the first ring was finished, a woman answered. Breathless. Hopeful. Strained.

I knew whose number this was.

Mrs. Harrington’s.

I mumbled that I had the wrong number, apologized, and hung up.

So, whose number was this third one? Whoever it was had tried to call at 1:30—that would be before Jackie left—and then again at 2 and 2:30.

Using my smartphone, I did a quick search on the area code. I blinked at what I saw. Healthy Springs.

Someone local had tried to call Jackie. Or what if it was … someone here at the hotel?

I gulped down the rest of my lunch, stuffed Jackie’s phone back in my pocket, threw away my trash, and hurried inside. I was going on a hunch and a prayer.

I approached the concierge. “Excuse me, I’m trying to figure out who’s been trying to call me from extension,” I glanced at the paper in my purse, “1241. Do you have a list of extensions?”

“I don’t even have to look that one up. That’s the extension of our courtesy phone.” She pointed to a lone phone nestling on an intricate shelf on the other side of the lobby.

I tapped the marble-topped desk. “Excellent. Thank you.”

The information wasn’t really excellent, though, because that courtesy phone number meant that anyone could have been trying to call Jackie.

***

After I freshened up, I went back downstairs to meet Deanna. She waited for me in one of the chairs in the grand entryway. She said nothing when she saw me, and instead stood and nodded for me to follow. I quietly did just that. She was probably worried about getting in trouble because, in the short time since I’d known her, that was all she’d worried about. Finally, we turned off from the main hallway into a quieter one in the West Wing of the facility.

I looked behind me. It was just us. No witnesses.

“If anyone asks, you’re a friend,” she mumbled. “The management doesn’t exactly smile on the staff mingling with the patrons, if you know what I mean. It’s more like the peons mingling with royalty. It’s not supposed to happen.”

“Understood.” I hurried to keep pace with her.

“Did you find out the information?”

“I did. Ajay is single. Definitely.”

She let out a little squeal before quickly composing herself. “That makes my day. My week. My year!”

“So, are you going to approach him now? What’s your grand plan?”

Deanna gasped and threw a glance behind her. “Are you crazy? I could never do that. I’m not that kind of woman.”

I didn’t even bother to ask what the point of finding out his status was then. Maybe she just needed the information to feed her crush. I’d done some crazy things under the influence of infatuation before. “Did you get any sleep? You were wide awake only five hours ago at breakfast when I saw you.”

“I’ve learned to live on four hours.”

I did a double take and quickened my steps. “Four hours? Are you crazy?”

She shrugged and threw a long curl over her shoulder. “I’m used to it by now.” She stopped by a door and locked gazes with me. I half expected to need a retinal scan to get into the room. “In here.”

I slipped inside. Floor to ceiling monitors and computers filled the room on two walls. A security guard sat behind the desk, staring at the screens and looking bored to tears.

He looked our way as Deanna approached. “Ricky, this is my friend I told you about.”

The man, who was probably in his late-twenties with thinning blond hair, raised his chin in hello. “Wassup?”

Deanna nodded toward me. “Someone’s causing her trouble, and we’re hoping you can help.” She paused and cocked her head as if reenacting a Sunday night crime drama. “Off the record, that is.”

When Ricky glanced at me, I shrugged. “It’s a long confusing story. Believe me. But I can’t get the hotel involved. Not yet, at least. Not until I have more proof.”

“Trouble with your ex?” Ricky asked.

“Just trouble. I’ll leave it at that.”

He stared me down. “I’m not supposed to do this.”

“Remember when I didn’t tell anyone when you and that valet wrecked a car you took for a joyride?” Deanna zigzagged her chin, hand on hip, and full-blown sassiness on display.

His eyes widened. “You weren’t ever supposed to bring that up.”

Deanna raised her eyebrows. “I’m cashing in on that favor you owe me.”

Ricky stared at Deanna, then me, and then the door before sighing. “Be my lookout,” he told Deanna. “And after this, we’re even.”

“Done.”

As Deanna scurried away, Ricky sat up straighter. “All right. What time and what location do you need to see?” He pushed out a chair, and I lowered myself there.

“I need the camera that shows everyone coming and going out of room 3412. The time would be between 4 and 7.”

He hit some buttons, and a few seconds later, my hallway came onto the screen. He pointed to a door in the center. “That should be the room you’re looking at.”

I nodded and leaned closer. “Perfect.”

Several people walked up and down the hallway. No one I recognized, though.

Finally, someone paused at my door. “Stop right there!”

He slowed the tape. I leaned closer. That was Jackie-O leaving the room. She stepped out and looked both ways down the hall. Strange initial reaction for someone stepping out.

Unless she suspected that someone might be watching her.

My back muscles pinched tighter.

The woman was beautiful. She wore jeans, a sweatshirt and hiking boots, so she had planned on going hiking apparently. I was struck again by just how much she did look like Jackie Kennedy.

What kind of trouble had she gotten herself caught up in?

In my mind, I figured that if Jackie-O had just left to go hiking, it would at least be two hours until her kidnapper came back with the ransom note. “Fast forward a bit.”

Only thirty minutes later, a man stopped outside the door to her room.

Thirty minutes? That wasn’t enough time to kidnap Jackie, write the note, and make it back to the room.

I squinted, trying to soak in the figure. He wore a flannel shirt and baseball cap. He was so tall that his body seemed to arch forward like a stick with too much weight on it. Where had I seen that man before? He looked vaguely familiar.

He kept his head low, inserted the key card, and slipped inside. Ten minutes later, he stepped out. He didn’t bother to look around for witnesses. He simply walked away with his head down and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

I sucked in a deep breath as realization hit. I knew where I’d seen that man before.

That was the man who’d been talking to Clint in the hallway last night.

CHAPTER 10

By three o’clock, I’d composed myself. Riley and I were supposed to meet, but I was still shaken at seeing Clint’s friend leave Jackie’s room.

Ricky and I had scrolled through the rest of the tape, just to make sure no one else had stopped by in the time between Clint’s friend leaving until the entire gang arrived, me included, a little after dinnertime. They hadn’t. That left us with one clear answer.

Clint’s friend had left that note.

Did Clint know? Was his friend so desperate for money that he’d abducted a pal’s girlfriend? What had he told Clint as his excuse for being here?

The even bigger question for me, at the moment, was whether or not I should share the information. Clint had asked us not to get involved. If I admitted I’d seen the video, there would be no denying that I’d done some research. If I didn’t admit to my involvement, Jackie might be killed.