Kiss and Tell (9 page)

“Did you recognize the voice of the person who called?” Esme asked her publicist after drinking all her water.

“No,” Janine said. “But I'm fairly certain it was the same person who called the television studio earlier today. At least, the voice had that same strange electronic quality to it.”

Esme visibly sagged at the news. Her lips trembled, and she clutched the robe Janine had helped her into. “Why is this happening to me?” she said, a slight edge to her voice. “Who did I hurt so desperately that I deserve such revenge?”

“Easy, easy,” said Janine, and put a comforting arm around her writer. “I know Nancy will find the person, and no one will remember any of this a year from now. Meanwhile, you need to get ready for the reading. Let's go back to the room. We'll order lunch, and I'll make you a cup of tea.”

Esme sighed and turned her attention to Nancy and Bess. Nancy could see the dark circles under Esme's eyes. The romance writer gripped both girls' hands and said, “Won't you have lunch with us? It's the least I can do for you.”

Bess grinned and impulsively reached out to give Esme a hug. “We'd love to, right, Nan? We can grab our stuff and change upstairs.”

“Sure,” said Nancy. “Give me a second, though. I want to ask a few people if they saw anyone near this door.”

“We'll wait for you by the elevators,” Janine said.

Nancy made a quick tour of the women's locker room while Bess retrieved their clothes and went to join Janine and Esme. Nancy asked several people if they'd seen anyone around the Jacuzzi; most gave Nancy an apologetic smile. But the last woman she asked told Nancy that she'd been heading to the pool from the locker room when she saw a tall person wearing a trench coat and hat standing by the Jacuzzi door. Pressed, the woman couldn't give Nancy a better description, but Nancy already knew more than she had started with: whoever had locked them in the room fit the description of the person Sam had chased the night before.

Nancy hurried to the elevators. Bess handed her a robe, then shot her an expectant look. “I think we've got a suspect,” Nancy told Bess, Janine, and Esme. In the elevator ride up to
Esme's suite, Nancy shared her news with the three women.

“That sounds like the same person who set the fire last night,” Bess exclaimed.

Nancy agreed, slipping into her tennis shoes. “I'll call hotel security and tell them to keep their eyes out for someone fitting this description. In the meantime, we have to figure out how this person always knows where Esme will be, and when.”

Inside her robe, Esme shivered. “This is just too creepy.”

The elevator opened on Esme's floor. Nancy was the first to get off, and when she started down the hall, what she saw surprised her. At the end of the hall, someone was letting himself out of Esme's suite, someone with a pile of papers in his hand. That someone was wearing a trench coat and hat!

“Stop!” Nancy cried. “Don't move!”

The tall, trench-coated figure hesitated for a moment. The person was wearing sunglasses and leather gloves, and it was impossible for Nancy to get a good look at the face. When she called out, the figure took off at a run, and Nancy raced after him. Turning a corner, she just saw the person step into another elevator. As the doors closed, a paper fell to the floor. Nancy scooped it up and quickly scanned it. The thief had stolen Esme's manuscript of
Telling All!

By now, Esme, Janine, and Bess had caught up
with Nancy, who was frantically waiting for the second elevator in this bank to arrive.

“It was our man,” Nancy announced. “He stole Esme's manuscript!”

The other elevator arrived just as Esme fell to the floor in a dead faint. “We'll take care of her,” Bess told Nancy. “You go after the guy!”

Nancy guessed that the thief wouldn't bother to get off at another floor, but would travel all the way to the lobby—the easiest route out of the hotel. When her elevator reached the lobby, Nancy had her suspicions confirmed. She spotted the retreating figure of her suspect weaving his way through the crowd. At the hotel's revolving doors, the person stopped to see if he was being followed. Catching sight of Nancy, the suspect quickly pushed his way through the doors and out onto the street.

Ignoring the stares of hotel guests, who were surprised to see a woman in a bathrobe and sneakers race through the lobby, Nancy took off at a run. At the front entrance, the suspect was dashing across the hotel's circular driveway toward the street.

“Stop that man!” Nancy cried.

The suspect turned, saw Nancy, and dropped several more pages of Esme's manuscript, which went flying away in the wind. Nancy darted between parked cars and chased the suspect onto the busy city street.

“You're not getting away from me this time,”
Nancy said through gritted teeth as she pursued the thief up the street.

She was no more than fifty feet behind her quarry, weaving around noontime pedestrians. Nancy felt herself getting closer. A stoplight at the end of the block turned yellow, then red, and Nancy had to wait a moment to make sure a car in the cross traffic didn't hit her. In that moment's hesitation, Nancy saw Esme's harasser hail a cab.

“No!” Nancy cried, but it was too late. The yellow taxi squealed to a halt, and, with a last glance over the shoulder at Nancy, the suspect got into the waiting cab. By the time Nancy darted between the passing cars, the cab was gone.

Burning with adrenaline and frustration, Nancy tried hailing a cab herself. One after another, yellow taxis passed her by. Then she realized: she was wearing a bathrobe! No one would pick her up dressed like that. Dejected, Nancy turned and headed back to the hotel. There, a bellhop closely scrutinized Nancy as she passed through the bronze and glass revolving doors.

“Don't ask,” she said, shaking her head ruefully. “You don't want to know.”

Bess was waiting for her in the lobby. “What happened?” she asked.

“I lost the guy,” Nancy said in exasperation. “He took off in a cab.”

“Esme's pretty upset,” Bess said to Nancy as
they made their way toward the elevators. “She's got other copies of
Telling All,
but that one had all her notes and revisions on it. She'll have to redo all her work.”

“I was so close,” Nancy said, getting into an elevator.

Bess reassured her friend. “Don't worry, Nan,” she said. She pushed the button for Esme's floor and the doors closed. “I have a feeling that wasn't the last time we'll see that person. You'll get another chance.”

Inside the suite, Nancy saw that Giancarlo and Janine were having a rough time trying to calm a distraught Esme. “We will find this person,” Giancarlo was saying. “We will get the manuscript back!”

“It's not that simple,” said Esme, the tears in her eyes ready to spill over. “Don't you see? This person isn't going to stop at stealing my manuscript. Whoever it is wants to ruin me entirely!”

“Cara
—” Giancarlo tried to take Esme in his arms, but she threw him off.

“You're no help!” she cried. “Where were you when this happened? You're useless except for a photo opportunity. I should just drop you right now!”

Nancy coughed uncomfortably. “I'm afraid I lost our suspect,” she said, trying to break the tension in the room.

Esme, clearly embarrassed at the sight of Nancy and Bess and by what they'd just overheard, immediately composed herself. “We think,” she
said, “that whoever stole the manuscript was the same person who called Janine to tell her we were locked in the sauna.”

“That's likely,” said Nancy. “The theft was clearly planned. But we need to find out how that person got into this room.”

Nancy quickly got on the phone to Terri, the Barrington's manager. After letting her know about the theft, and learning that there were no missing keys to Esme's suite, Nancy hung up. “They're going to change the locks, but it seems to me that this person must have an inside track at the hotel. How else could he get into Esme's room not once, but twice?”

“You mean the spider,” Bess guessed. “You think the person has a pass key?”

“Could be,” said Nancy. “Still, after Esme's reading, I want to do a little legwork to see if Terri or anyone else has any idea how this person keeps getting into Esme's suite.”

Janine ordered club sandwiches for the girls, a big tossed salad for Esme, and iced tea all around. Nancy hadn't realized how hungry she was, but after they changed back into their street clothes, both she and Bess wolfed down their lunches. When they were done, Janine prepared a pot of Esme's special herb tea, and the girls went downstairs to wait for Esme's reading to begin. There, in an intimate parlor off the hotel's main lobby, Brenda Carlton greeted Nancy and Bess with a hearty hello.

“I got a tip that Esme's reading is going to have
a surprise ending,” Brenda told them, her face open and eager.

“From your source?” Bess asked.

“None other,” Brenda agreed.

“Won't you give us a hint who your source is?” Nancy asked. “That person may be able to help us figure out who's been harassing Esme.”

“Why should I help you?” Brenda asked, arching her dark eyebrows. With that, she walked toward the front of the room and took a first-row seat.

Just then Nancy spotted Kim entering the room. “Now where has she been all this time?” Nancy wondered aloud.

“Janine said Kim has been feeling sick today,” Bess explained. “I guess she's feeling well enough to come down for the reading.”

In Kim's hands was a large manila envelope, and she was studying its contents. Bess went to choose seats, and Nancy casually walked over to the assistant. As Nancy approached, Kim stuffed the sheaf of papers into the envelope and clasped it shut. Nancy's heart skipped a beat. Kim had a manuscript in that envelope. Was it the stolen copy of
Telling All?

Nancy was about to question her when she heard someone call out her name. She turned to see Sam Fanelli waving to her as he approached. Kim used that moment to sneak away.

“How's it going?” Sam asked. “Any news?”

Nancy told Sam about getting locked in the
Jacuzzi, the theft of the manuscript, and how she'd chased the suspect. Then she shared with him her suspicions about what Kim might have in the envelope she held. The whole time Sam stood close to Nancy and listened intently. Nancy tried not to think about his warm brown eyes and the way his longish hair curled at his collar.

“Do you think Kim's the suspect you chased?” Sam asked.

“Could be. Would she fit the profile of our harasser?” Nancy countered.

“I'm still waiting on that program,” Sam said ruefully.

By now the room was filling with guests. Pia was sitting inconspicuously at the back of the room. Nancy spotted Bess beckoning to her from the seats she was holding. Esme entered, along with Giancarlo and Janine.

“I guess we should take our seats,” she said quietly.

“I'll sit with you,” Sam said. “We can go over all this stuff after the reading is over.”

Like a true friend, Bess had saved two seats for Nancy. She shot her friend a knowing look as Nancy and Sam sat down and Esme moved to the front of the room. “Watch out, Drew,” Bess whispered. “Esme's stuff can be pretty romantic.”

Nancy blushed and was keenly aware of Sam's hand draped lightly across the back of her seat. He wasn't exactly putting his arm around her,
but he was definitely moving in that direction, and Nancy found herself a little uncomfortable—and maybe a little excited.

The crowd hushed. Esme took a sip from the teacup she'd brought with her. “I'm going to read a section from
Passion,”
she said. “I hope you enjoy it.” Without further introduction, Esme flipped through the book she held and started reading. As the woman's husky voice filled the room, Nancy sneaked a peek at Bess, who had her eyes closed and was obviously drifting off into Esme's romantic universe. As the writer went on, Nancy, too, found herself escaping into Esme's story. A young woman, caught in a dangerous country, hiked through enemy territory with the man sent to rescue her. Each night they camped out beside a romantic fire, and each day they passed through beautiful but treacherous countryside. As the tension built, Nancy became all too conscious of Sam's proximity, his hand on the back of her chair, the fact that his fingers could so easily reach out to touch her hair.

In the midst of this reverie, Nancy became aware that Esme was having difficulty reading. The writer was constantly interrupting herself to cough and sip tea and clear her throat, until finally she held her hand to her neck, obviously choking.

Then, right in front of her audience, Esme fell to the floor, unconscious.

C
ALL AN AMBULANCE
!” G
IANCARLO
shouted, rushing to Esme's side.
“Cam mia!”
he cried, taking Esme into his arms.