Read Online Murder's Last Resort by Marta Chausée - Free Book Online
Authors: Marta Chausée
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too? I’d see her at Papa's in a few minutes but we wouldn’t get a chance to talk privately.
I didn’t have time to think about that right now. I had to dive into my closet and find an ivory-colored ensemble or something in earth-tones so I could disguise my tragic sallow-ruddiness. Oh, and I had to see my dentist. These nasty old plywood teeth had to go.
Chapter 19
I looked after my guests, then sat at my table. Papa’s had reserved two-thirds of the restaurant for us. We had privacy and, at the same time, all the floor-to-ceiling doors were open to the lake and the pool below and the sweet afternoon breeze. Ultra-fine mesh screens kept out the flying insects and the whole shack, perched on the rocks with its tin roof and slow-moving ceiling fans, felt like a little piece of Papa Hemingway’s Key West.
On any other day, I was all about the outstanding seafood at Papa’s. This was the first time I didn’t give a flying Frisbee for what I ate. I was watching people like a cat watches a moth fluttering against a window pane. I was studying their mannerisms, how they spoke to one another, how they shifted their eyes and held their bodies.
I had invited Lily once again. Technically, she was not a Sapphire lady, but who was going to challenge me? I was French’s wife and he was the boss of this property. I seated her on the opposite side of the room. She knew what she was supposed to do.
On one level, the luncheon went well. Usually, Sapphire women moved food around their plates in a casual fashion for twenty minutes, while chatting. Today, the ladies all ate with a gusto that was rarely seen in our competitive, skinny-bitch-not-eating-a-thing world.
During the dessert course, four to six Sapphire women commonly shared one of the richest desserts on the menu. Each tried one bite and moaned in appreciation. Then, they set their forks down in unison and smiled at each other, knowing they were the queens of self-discipline. Not today. This day, they could have been training for the Great Salmon Feed and Key Lime Pie Olympics.
On a personal level, the luncheon was a bust. Once again, I felt the heaviness of disappointment settle on my shoulders. Could they all be innocent? I felt so sure a woman had killed Torrey. I thought I understood human behavior. No one seemed off or nervous or suspicious. I felt let down and deflated, once again.
As lunch was wrapping up, I ran into Lily in the powder room of Papa’s. “What say we steal away in a few moments and you come with me to the Torreys’ original suite? Orlando PD has had it locked and sealed since Red’s death.” I whispered, making sure no one in the stalls overheard us.
“How are we going to get in?” Lily asked, looking a little hesitant.
“I have my ways, silly, come on. It’ll be fun. I have some time before I meet Dave Enderly at Luzi’s suite. Remember? They just happen to be on the same floor.”
“Oh, all right. Why do I let you talk me into these things?” she said to her own reflection in the mirror, giving her lips a fresh coat of ginger peach gloss.
“Because they’re exciting .” I chided her as I left. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”
* * *
Once Lily arrived, we sauntered through the door to the left of the front desk. If anyone had asked, we would have said we were looking for Jake. We were in luck—no one asked and we managed to give the guys tailing me the slip.
We turned past the marketing and PR offices and then took the service elevator to seventeen. We walked down the hall on little cat feet toward what had been Torrey’s original suite.
In my summer tote, I had my handy-dandy skeleton key and a few other little devices. The best one was my bump key. The Orlando PD had installed a dead bolt lock on the service entry door of the suite. This might deter the average burglar, but not me.
Lily watched in wonder as I placed the bump key into the dead bolt and tapped it with a rubber hammer. The service door
I didn’t have time to think about that right now. I had to dive into my closet and find an ivory-colored ensemble or something in earth-tones so I could disguise my tragic sallow-ruddiness. Oh, and I had to see my dentist. These nasty old plywood teeth had to go.
Chapter 19
I looked after my guests, then sat at my table. Papa’s had reserved two-thirds of the restaurant for us. We had privacy and, at the same time, all the floor-to-ceiling doors were open to the lake and the pool below and the sweet afternoon breeze. Ultra-fine mesh screens kept out the flying insects and the whole shack, perched on the rocks with its tin roof and slow-moving ceiling fans, felt like a little piece of Papa Hemingway’s Key West.
On any other day, I was all about the outstanding seafood at Papa’s. This was the first time I didn’t give a flying Frisbee for what I ate. I was watching people like a cat watches a moth fluttering against a window pane. I was studying their mannerisms, how they spoke to one another, how they shifted their eyes and held their bodies.
I had invited Lily once again. Technically, she was not a Sapphire lady, but who was going to challenge me? I was French’s wife and he was the boss of this property. I seated her on the opposite side of the room. She knew what she was supposed to do.
On one level, the luncheon went well. Usually, Sapphire women moved food around their plates in a casual fashion for twenty minutes, while chatting. Today, the ladies all ate with a gusto that was rarely seen in our competitive, skinny-bitch-not-eating-a-thing world.
During the dessert course, four to six Sapphire women commonly shared one of the richest desserts on the menu. Each tried one bite and moaned in appreciation. Then, they set their forks down in unison and smiled at each other, knowing they were the queens of self-discipline. Not today. This day, they could have been training for the Great Salmon Feed and Key Lime Pie Olympics.
On a personal level, the luncheon was a bust. Once again, I felt the heaviness of disappointment settle on my shoulders. Could they all be innocent? I felt so sure a woman had killed Torrey. I thought I understood human behavior. No one seemed off or nervous or suspicious. I felt let down and deflated, once again.
As lunch was wrapping up, I ran into Lily in the powder room of Papa’s. “What say we steal away in a few moments and you come with me to the Torreys’ original suite? Orlando PD has had it locked and sealed since Red’s death.” I whispered, making sure no one in the stalls overheard us.
“How are we going to get in?” Lily asked, looking a little hesitant.
“I have my ways, silly, come on. It’ll be fun. I have some time before I meet Dave Enderly at Luzi’s suite. Remember? They just happen to be on the same floor.”
“Oh, all right. Why do I let you talk me into these things?” she said to her own reflection in the mirror, giving her lips a fresh coat of ginger peach gloss.
“Because they’re exciting .” I chided her as I left. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”
* * *
Once Lily arrived, we sauntered through the door to the left of the front desk. If anyone had asked, we would have said we were looking for Jake. We were in luck—no one asked and we managed to give the guys tailing me the slip.
We turned past the marketing and PR offices and then took the service elevator to seventeen. We walked down the hall on little cat feet toward what had been Torrey’s original suite.
In my summer tote, I had my handy-dandy skeleton key and a few other little devices. The best one was my bump key. The Orlando PD had installed a dead bolt lock on the service entry door of the suite. This might deter the average burglar, but not me.
Lily watched in wonder as I placed the bump key into the dead bolt and tapped it with a rubber hammer. The service door
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