Murder among the Palms Page 13

  “No worries. I’m ready to roll.” If he were being honest, Darian was also looking forward to breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Performing and detecting both made for hungry work. “You were pretty impressive in rehearsals yourself. I can’t wait to tell Bryce and Hanson once we get home. Just a matter of time before they coax you up on stage.”

  “Mention it to them and I’m taking the fifth. I’m a cop, remember? I know my rights.”

  They found Zara running the front desk. When she saw Darian, she ran out from behind it to kiss his cheek. She also gave Argo a quick hug. Argo didn’t seem entirely comfortable with that, but Darian knew he wasn’t used to the openness of people in Florida compared with the more reserved social traditions in the north. “Oh, my gosh! Awesome to see you! My parents told me what happened yesterday with those reporters. It must have been awful!”

  “We managed,” Darian said. “Your dad drives a mean getaway car.”

  Zara rolled her eyes. “I think that was the high point of his year, if not his life. He’s talked about nothing else since it happened. Mom says he missed his calling as a Hollywood stunt driver. So what can I do for you? I hope you haven’t come about Ange’s car. It’s definitely not here, and I can’t imagine who called her. Sure wasn’t me.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Darian said. “Either some miscommunication or a prank. She’ll get over it.”

  “If you want my theory, it was Rikki disguising her voice.” Zara winked. “I heard that when she couldn’t find Lanislaw, Ange marched right into her office and shut the door behind her. The two of them stayed in there forever, according to my sources. That confrontation was way overdue, if you ask me. Not that I’m any expert on relationships.”

  “Tensions are definitely running high around the house,” Argo agreed with a sigh. “That was one reason we wanted to eat breakfast here. Too much drama and yelling for my tastes. I mean, I try to be supportive, but it’s been rough. You’d think they’d rein it in for my sake, if not for Darian’s.”

  “Oh, come on, Argo. You can’t blame my mom for being upset. Lanislaw really did a number on her, dragging her in and interrogating her like she on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. I tend to agree with her that this shell game with the car was another one of his sleazy techniques.”

  “There’s nothing sleazy about a thorough investigation. Sometimes cops have to use creative means to get at the truth.”

  Darian snorted. “I should have known you’d side with him. Brothers in blue and all that rot. I do mean rot literally, by the way.”

  Argo’s jaw hardened. “If your mom is innocent, she has nothing to worry about.”

  “If? What do you mean if?”

  “Enough. Zara doesn’t want a ringside seat in your latest manufactured crisis.” Argo turned to her with an apologetic smile. “In-laws! Am I right?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Zara said primly.

  “One day, you will. Unless you end up luckier than most people.”

  Zara leaned forward, lowering her voice. “If it’s any consolation, Ange wasn’t the only one who got ticked off. Mr. Lampson cleared out of the luxury suite this morning, not even five minutes after that Laddersoff guy gave him permission to leave.”

  “Totally understandable.” Darian darted Argo an accusatory look. “You said he was Gabrielle’s friend. He must have been upset by her death.”

  “More like he didn’t appreciate the way the cops treated him,” Zara confided. “Rude and arrogant, he said. Oh, sorry. No offense, Argo.”

  “None taken. As far as I’m concerned, Stuart has nothing to apologize for. If I were working this case, I’d be doing exactly the same things.”

  Darian grunted. “All right, you’ve made your point—for the tenth time, at least. Can we please eat now? Oh, Zara, one other thing. Is Kyle around? I was hoping to say hi to him.”

  “I’m sure he’s around somewhere. I’ll give him the message.”

  “No worries if you can’t find him,” Argo said, rolling his eyes. Without waiting for Darian, he turned and stalked off.

  “Thanks,” Darian whispered to Zara. “I have to admit, I’m getting tired of apologizing to him for my family’s behavior. It’s not like his sister and her husband never argue in my presence. A judgmental attitude comes with the badge, I guess.”

  “Sorry it’s not going well for you,” Zara said. She gave him a hug. “I’ll call the restaurant and tell them to comp your meals. Maybe that will lighten his mood.”

  “I’ll take anything at this point.”

  “Glad to help. I’ll see if I can rustle up Kyle for you. Sounds like you two have a lot to talk about.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Darian found Argo already seated, studying a menu. “Good job,” he said when Darian slipped into the chair opposite him. “Should I be worried that you seem so comfortable complaining about me?”

  “Nope. It’s strictly method acting. Used by all the finest stars on stage and screen.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that.”

  They were careful not to look too cozy while they ate, since Darian thought it likely that the waitstaff knew who they were and would report their observations to Kyle, Zara, or both. From the tables around them, they overheard a few snippets of gossip about the murder.

  “I heard the mob rubbed her out,” one woman confided to the friends she was seated with, all of whom nodded sagely.

  “A drug deal gone wrong,” came another patron’s guess. “Happens all the time on the beach out there. That’s why they close it off at night.”

  “Saw something she shouldn’t have,” was the next suggestion. And finally, the most intriguing of all,

  “What if there’s a serial killer in town? What if it’s someone staying at the hotel?”

  Darian couldn’t help noticing that none of these dire scenarios actually motived anyone to check out. If anything, their fellow diners seemed to find each lurid new idea more exciting than the last. As he munched on his eggs Benedict, he mentally replayed their conversation with Zara. Was she right about Rikki engineering the phone call about Ange’s car? Could it have been a ruse to get Ange to Mermaid Towers so they could finally talk? Rikki wasn’t generally sneaky, but he could see her taking desperate measures in in a dire situation like this one. Anyway, who could argue with apparent success? Rikki was still in the guest room, as far as he knew, but at least they were communicating.

  Argo seemed to be reading his mind, as usual. “One step at a time, Darian,” he said, wiping his lips with his napkin. “Just let life happen. That’s how we need to handle things sometimes.”

  “It’s not easy, you have to admit.”

  “It’s not supposed to be. What’s the alternative? You’d get bored with constant peace and tranquility. I’m not just talking about your moms’ relationship, either. I think it’s better if people’s personalities complement one another’s. Right?”

  “Do we complement each other?”

  “What do you think?”

  Darian considered the question. “I see us as kind of like air and earth. I’m air. You know. Imaginative and idealistic. Too much so. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to studying poetry and stuff like that.”

  “So I’m earth? As in dirt?” Argo bit back a grin.

  “As in grounded. Logical. You keep me from floating off like some kind of crazy party balloon. I’m depending on you to get me through this, Argo.”

  “I promise you that. Whatever the truth is, we’re going to find out and make sure justice is done.” Argo slipped a hand under the table, closed his strong fingers around Darian’s, and squeezed.

  “I feel more tethered to reality already,” Darian whispered. Just then, through the glass doors of the restaurant, he saw Kyle hovering around, watching them.

  Argo spotted him, too. “Looks like Zara delivered your message,” he said. “Ready for your encore performance?”

  Kyle, wielding a cloth and a spray bottle, feigned su
rprise when Darian came out of the restaurant alone. Argo remained at their table, scowling over his freshly refilled cup. “Not lingering over coffee with the old ball and chain?” he inquired while he pretended to polish the already-pristine glass doors.

  “No, I’ve had more than enough for one morning,” Darian grumbled. “Enough caffeine, and enough of a certain person’s controlling ways. I told him I wanted some time to myself, and he didn’t try to stop me.”

  “Trouble at home, huh?”

  “You could say that. I suppose Zara filled you in?”

  “It wasn’t like we were gossiping or anything. She was just concerned for you as a friend. The same way I am.”

  “Thanks, Kyle. I appreciate that.”

  “So do think your moms are going to break up?”

  “I have no idea. But lately things don’t seem great between them. This mess with Gabrielle made things much, much worse. It’s like all their trust in one another evaporated. I’ve never seen either one of them act the way they do lately. I hardly know what to think or believe.”

  “What a nightmare for you.” Kyle edged closer, slipped an arm around Darian’s slumped shoulders, and gave him a quick squeeze. It took all Darian’s acting skills to lean gratefully toward him and not pull away.

  “I never thought I’d see one of my moms accused, or at least suspected, of murder. I’m not even sure how to process it all.”

  “I can imagine. It’s all so unfair. But look at this way. How could you prevent any of this? Ange is ruled by human nature, same as anyone else. You feel your loved one slipping away…well, you do crazy things. We’ve all been there.”

  Darian squinted at him. “I would hope we haven’t all considered murder the solution to our romantic problems.”

  “Surely not, but you see what I mean. How many times do we blurt out things like ‘I’m going to kill him’? I’m just saying that in the right frame of mind, with enough external pressure, any one of us could snap.”

  “Well, I’m not convinced my mom is guilty, no matter what Lanislaw says. I know better than most people that cops sometimes cut corners when they’re eager to solve a case.”

  “At least you’re going into this whole disaster with your eyes wide open. I’m sorry I’m not being much help. The truth is, I’m not sure about the proper etiquette when an old friend’s mom is under investigation for killing someone.”

  “If you figure it out, maybe you could write the first guide.”

  “Now there’s a million-dollar idea. I’m glad you’re trying to find the bright spot in this horrid situation. Not that I expected any less of you, Darian.”

  Kyle turned on his old flirtatious grin, which no longer worked on Darian. It had quite the opposite effect, in fact, but he pretended otherwise.

  “Thanks, Kyle. Believe it or not, just talking about it helps. I don’t want to keep you from your work, though. Maybe I should go.”

  “Oh, no need. I could take a short break.” Kyle stashed his cleaning supplies under the lush fronds of a nearby potted plant. “Come with me. I just may have the perfect stress reliever.”

  Knowing Kyle, Darian found that promise a bit unsettling. Nonetheless, he followed him through a series of doors, hallways, and down a back staircase marked “Staff Only.” Eventually they emerged in a spacious but deserted men’s locker room.

  “It’s always quiet this time of day, but this week it should be even less popular than usual. We’ve had a lot of employees call in sick since...I mean, over the last couple of days. No surprise, really. You should hear some of the rumors floating around.”

  “I did encounter a few in the restaurant,” Darian admitted. “Serial killers and mob hits seemed to be trending among the guests.”

  “Downright ghoulish, isn’t it? Then again, both of those choices exonerate your mom, so maybe we should encourage them.” Crossing the room, Kyle opened a supply cabinet and took out two folded squares of cloth Darian assumed were towels. When Kyle shook them out, however, he saw that they were soft white robes emblazoned with the Mermaid Towers logo.

  “Put this on,” Kyle said, handing him one. When Darian hesitated, he tilted his head with pity. “Go into one of the shower stalls if you’ve grown shy in your old age. I doubt anything’s changed much since my last eyeful, but have it your way. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I still have no sense of shame.”

  To Darian’s astonishment, Kyle placed his own robe on a bench and started stripping down right in front of him.

  “So we’re going to…uh…?”

  “Yes, darling. We’re going to hit the steam room. Trust me, your skin will glow. I suspect you need it after enduring that harsh northern weather. I didn’t want to say anything, but the cold isn’t doing your complexion any favors.”

  “Won’t you get in trouble, sneaking off while you’re on shift?”

  “Not likely. Who’s going to notice? Gabrielle’s past caring, and Rikki isn’t coming in until this afternoon, if at all. Besides, she’s got way bigger problems to worry about than me goofing off for a while.”

  Tying the belt of his robe, he walked to a corner of the room and reached for a control panel affixed to the wall. He dropped his hand without actually turning the knob.

  “Well, how do you like that? Someone’s already used it this morning and couldn’t be bothered to turn it back down. Typical—they’re flaunting the rules now that the boss is out of commission. On the bright side, we won’t have to wait for it to heat up. Now get yourself changed. Chop-chop!”

  Kyle made a slicing motion in the air, which made Darian wince. Again he had to remind himself that Gabrielle had been strangled and not stabbed, though presumably Kyle didn’t know that yet. As for his other comments, Darian thought it wisest not to comment on the blatant hypocrisy. Reluctantly, he stepped behind a row of lockers and began to undress. He experienced a brief moment of nervousness, wondering if an attempt at seduction was the worst he had to fear from Kyle. Remembering a self-defense move Argo taught him, he placed his key ring in the pocket of the terry robe. Keys, tucked in a fist with the point facing outward, could be a formidable weapon if one had the courage to use them. Darian wasn’t sure he did especially against a lifelong friend. But better to have protection and not need it than need it and not have it.

  Another thought occurred to him, too. It might be safer to confront Kyle here, in the open, rather than behind the closed door of the steam room. If Kyle got uncomfortable, he might abandon the whole idea and escape back to work. Under the circumstances, Darian wouldn’t have minded cutting the interview short.

  He took his time unfastening the various button and snaps on his clothes while Kyle waited. Darian could hear him tapping his bare foot on the tile floor.

  “Kyle, can I ask you a question? You can probably guess what it’s about.”

  “No need to mince words. You’re wondering about Gabi’s murder, and if a psycho slasher might be hanging around waiting for new victims.”

  “Something like that,” Darian admitted, kicking off his shoes. “Do you blame me, though? I’ve got Rikki, you, and Zara to worry about. In some ways I’d almost feel better if I knew the killer was someone who had a specific beef with Gabrielle. As long as it wasn’t my mom, Ange.”

  “And you figure I might know who had it out for her. That’s the real purpose for this promising little interlude, isn’t it? I should have known you weren’t really flirting with me. Not that I blame you for sticking with Argo. He reminds me of one of those massive pine trees you see in the nature documentaries. Do they grow a lot of guys like that in those vast northern forests? Maybe I should go up there on a trip sometime. Do some sightseeing.”

  Darian tried not to imagine Argo’s reaction if Kyle came rolling into town for an extended visit. Especially since he’d need a place to stay. “Safe to say you’d get an eyeful, and so would my neighbors. You’d stand out for sure.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Before we dig into the murder, are you happy, Da
rian? I mean, really happy? I imagine you enjoy ferrying rich, spoiled boys through the raging waters of English lit, since unlike me, you always preferred reading about things to actually doing them. Still, are you sure you don’t miss your home here?”

  “Sometimes I do. But yeah, I’d say I’m happy. I like my job, I have my own place, and of course there’s Argo.”

  “So you think it’s going to last with him?”

  “I’m going to do what I can to make sure it does. We both are.”

  Kyle paused, and though Darian couldn’t see his face, he sensed the weight of his disappointment. He almost felt guilty until Kyle spoke. “Well, I’m glad to know you’re still the same plucky Darian from high school. No matter how hopeless the challenge, you never hesitate to give it all you’ve got.”

  “Thanks,” Darian grumbled, pulling on the robe. He wouldn’t let Kyle’s little barbs, which had seemed so amusing when they were kids, stick to him. He took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the lockers. “But let’s be honest, Kyle. You haven’t exactly steered clear of futile causes. I know all about you and Carl, and Lanislaw does too. If I were you, I’d come clean about the whole situation before you find yourself charged with obstruction of justice.”

  “Oh, we’re back to Carl again. The cops have been hassling me about him, too. All right, so Gabrielle fired him for petty theft. But murder? I don’t see why. It was a wrongful termination suit at most.”

  “Tell me about the theft he supposedly committed. Was it money? Stuff from guests’ rooms? Or was it something bigger—like sneaking into empty rooms and staying there overnight?”

  Kyle blanched. “How did you know?”

  “I have my sources. You were helping him, weren’t you? Directing him to unused beds and covering for him until he had to move to the next room. If the hotel was full, you probably helped him find a discreet spot to hunker down until his next shift started—someplace like a locker room, for example.”

  A long silence stretched between them. Darian imagined he could actually hear the pressure mounting inside Kyle’s body. Or maybe it was the steam hissing behind the closed door beside them.