Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes (21 page)

“Uh-oh,” Matt said, “I should have brought you through the back entrance.”

Celina clung to his arm in wide-eyed amazement while Debbie Sue kept looking away from the flash, refusing to answer questions. To her dismay, Edwina was taking every advantage of the opportunity, posing and smiling like a ce
lebrity. She wasn't just answering questions. She was asking them as well.

“Which one of you actually crawled out on the ledge?” A reporter called out.

“She did,” Edwina said, attempting to turn Debbie Sue to face the cameras. “Debbie Sue Overstreet. That's O-V-E-R—”

“What's going on here?” The commanding voice came from a vertically challenged but powerfully built man in an expensive tan suit. He pushed his way into the center of the commotion and said to the press, “Ladies and gentlemen, please allow our guests to move on. They've been through a terrible ordeal. I'm sure they'll be happy to speak to you later.”

W
ith practiced skill, the man ushered all four of them forward until they soon found themselves standing in what appeared to be a private office. He took a place behind a massive desk that hunkered in the middle of the room and with a sweep of his hand, invited all of them to take a seat. Homer popped up from somewhere and was now standing just behind the man, wringing his hands, sweating profusely and looking down at the floor.

“Hey, Homer, how's it going?” Edwina said.

The man behind the desk gave Homer a thundercloud of a look, then turned his attention back to Debbie Sue and her friends. His mouth tipped into a reptilian smile and Debbie Sue knew instantly this was no social visit. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I'm Otto J. Pembroke. I'm the
general manager here. As I understand it, you've had an interesting stay with us.”

“It's been more than we bargained for, that's for sure,” Edwina said. “When we leave Sunday—”

“I'm afraid you're going to be leaving before Sunday. We've taken the liberty of securing your personal items and we'd like you to leave immediately.” He continued to smile, but his tone left no doubt of the finality of his statement.

Panic shot through Debbie Sue. Their plane tickets were booked for Sunday. They didn't know of another hotel. And even if they did, they couldn't afford to pay for it. NAPI had paid for this one. She bristled. “You can't—”

“Oh, but I can.” His smile was gone and his face had turned into a reddened mask of rage. “In less than two days you've been responsible for nine-one-one calls no less than three times. You've instigated a riot in our establishment and caused the destruction of one of our lounges. You took advantage of one of our housekeeping personnel by bribing her to allow you illegal entry into a guestroom in which you were not registered. You called the fire department
and
the bomb squad, forcing an evacuation of the entire hotel. And now there are men and women from the press everywhere.”

Debbie Sue angled a glance at Edwina and saw her wilt under Pembroke's attack.

The lanky brunette friend said, “Well, when you put it that way…”

Debbie Sue stepped in before Edwina could capitulate. “Now, just a minute. It wasn't all our fault.”

“The Anson is a refined hotel,” Mr. Pembroke went on, lifting his head as if he smelled something foul. “We offer our guests the utmost in privacy and respect. Perhaps you'd be more comfortable at another establishment in the city. One that's more accustomed to accommodating your kind of people.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Pembroke,” Matt said, “but—”

Debbie Sue grabbed his arm, stopping him. She couldn't let Matt defend what she and Edwina had done. And she didn't intend to be insulted by someone nearly a foot shorter than she was.

She stood up and planted a fist on one hip. “You know, Mr. Pembroke, our
kind
of people are just plain country people. We don't have big-city ways, but we're smart enough to know one thing.” She pointed a finger at the office door. “Right outside that door is the press. And they want to hear from us, any and everything from us. They'll want to hear how easy it was to bribe a maid with a measly forty dollars into opening a guestroom door. They'll get a big kick out of hearing how a window on the sixth floor was left unprotected, enabling anyone—man, woman or
child
—to crawl out onto an unprotected ledge.”

“Yeah,” Edwina piped up. “And I'm gonna tell 'em how this dignified hotel served so much liquor to customers in the bar that they dragged an innocent woman into a free-for-all.”

“And most of all,” Debbie Sue said, “they'll want to hear how three people responsible for bringing a serial killer to justice, after grave risks to their own lives, could be put out
on the street like the day's garbage. And as for us staying in one of the lesser establishments, I'd say we're already there.” She swerved a look among her three friends. “Let's go, y'all. We'll still have time to find another hotel after we've given our interviews to the press.”

Mr. Pembroke's entire head had turned a vivid red. Beads of sweat had broken out along his brow. Rising slowly from his seat, he turned to Homer. “I believe there are two economy rooms available, are there not?”

“Yes, sir. We have two as of this morning.”

“Fine, please escort our guest to their new rooms.”

“Excuse me,” Debbie Sue said, “but these
economy
rooms you're talking about—are those the best you have available? If you're not sure, I'll be happy to step out to the registrar's desk and check. I'm sure the press will maul me and force me to talk, but I'll do my best to get back here.”

Homer jumped in, smiling for the first time since the meeting began. “That won't be necessary. The best we have is the Presidential Suite. And it
is
available until Sunday evening, when the emir arrives.”

“Is that so? Tell me more, Homer,” Debbie Sue said, grinning.

“The Presidential is on the penthouse level. It has a large living area with a private dining room and kitchen. There are two separate bedrooms, each with a private bath, and a spectacular view of the city.” He looked at his employer. “That is, if Mr. Pembroke approves.”

“Gee, I don't know,” Debbie Sue said, frowning thoughtfully. “That sounds terribly expensive.” She turned to the
other three members of her group. “Do y'all think we can afford something like that? Maybe we should leave….”

Mr. Pembroke stopped her with a rumbling noise from his throat. His smile was gone and little bubbles of saliva had gathered at the corners of his mouth. He ran his hand down the front of his suit and adjusted his pocket handkerchief. “Please allow the Anson to provide this suite to you and your party at no expense. It's our way of thanking you.” He gave them his snakelike grin again. “If you'll follow Mr. Hess, he'll escort you. I'll have your luggage sent up immediately.”

Debbie Sue sent him her best beaming smile. “Oh, my goodness. That is just wonderful, Otto. Thank you. We're all anxious to get to our suite. As you said to the press yourself, we've had a terrible ordeal.”

Edwina grabbed his hand and pumped it vigorously. “Hey, thanks, Otto. You ever get out to Salt Lick, Texas, you be sure to look us up. Debbie Sue's got a spare bedroom and I've got a fairly new trailer house. We'll show you some Texas hospitality.”

Before their luck had time to change, Debbie Sue walked toward the door. Homer, Edwina, Celina and Matt followed close behind. They walked wordlessly through the lobby and waited until the elevator door closed before breaking into raucous laughter.

“I must say, Mrs. Overstreet,” Homer said, wiping a tear from his eye, “I've never seen anyone talk to Mr. Pembroke like that. It was worth everything just to have witnessed it.”

Homer produced a key from his breast pocket and placed
it in a slot on the control panel. The elevator zoomed past the lower hotel floors and came to a stop at the penthouse level.

Celina stood aghast when the elevator doors glided open onto a foyer flanked by two intricately carved doors. She had reached Fairyland. She was sure of it.

Homer opened both doors in grand fashion and stood back.

And there it was. The Presidential Suite. Celina and her newfound friends walked in slowly, looking around in awe. Even Matt appeared dumbstruck by the opulence.

The cover of one of Celina's favorite magazines,
Architectural Digest
, had nothing on this suite. The décor was French Provincial, done in gold and ivory with splashes of navy. Vibrant impressionistic art hung in gold gilt frames. Over-stuffed couches and wing chairs provided ample seating for a large group. From where they stood, they could see a formal dining area and a hutch full of gleaming dishes. Fresh bouquets of flowers were everywhere in exquisite arrangements and artful color combinations. Their fragrance touched her nostrils.

Her eyes tried to take in everything, but stopped at a pearl white baby grand piano elegantly filling a corner. Celina gasped and ran to it, with Matt trailing her. She ran her fingers over the piano's gleaming finish, touched two of the keys.

“Do you play?” Matt asked, coming to her side and smiling.

“Believe it or not, I do. Though not well. My grandmother had me taking piano lessons for years.”

“Great day in the morning,” Edwina said, approaching them. “What do you suppose something like this costs?”

“Several thousand a night, I'm guessing,” Matt said.

“Get out! That's not right, is it? Homer, is he right?”

“To be precise,” the night manager said, “it's three thousand, nine hundred twenty four dollars a night, without tax.”

“Without tax,” Debbie Sue echoed.

“And we have it for two nights?” Celina asked.

“Yes, ma'am. Tonight and tomorrow night,” Homer answered.

Celina looked at each of her companions, who all looked at one another. Together they began squealing. Debbie Sue and Edwina ran from room to room, yelling out to each other their new discoveries, but Celina hung back with Matt.

As he was leaving, Homer handed the key to Matt. “I trust this will be safe with you?”

“Absolutely,” the detective replied.

“Hey, y'all,” Debbie Sue yelled from somewhere.

Celina and Matt, along with Edwina, followed her voice.

They found her gawking at a large, fully stocked refrigerator. “Look at this. Hell, I was just hoping for something with a bigger icebox and maybe some regular-size bottles of water. This thing is loaded.”

“This whole experience is pretty amazing,” Matt said. “It kind of dwarfs the treat I had planned for your last night in New York.”

“You have something special planned for tomorrow night? Oh, Mattie,” Celina gushed. “That is so sweet. Tell us what it is.”

“Yeah, Mattie, tell us,” Edwina said, grinning.

“I was hoping to take all of you to dinner at Tavern on the Green. It's a New York landmark located in Central Park. It really should be seen in the evening.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Celina said. “I've heard of Tavern on the Green my whole life. Thank you so much, Matt. We can't wait, can we girls?” Celina looked at her friends.

“You two should go alone,” Edwina said. “You don't want to be dragging us old married women around with you.”

Celina frowned. “I wouldn't think of going without you and Debbie Sue.”

“Don't forget,” Matt added. “I'm not letting any of you out of my sight.”

“Ah, but did you mean that literally?” Edwina asked.

“Absolutely. Until you leave the city or Rogenstein is arrested, if you go, I'm there.”

“Then you'll have to accompany me to Bergdorf Goodman tomorrow,” Edwina said. “I'm not leaving here without a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. I've got two hundred fifty dollars burning a hole in my pocket. With what I already planned on spending, that'll give me just enough.”

Matt laughed. “I'm not an expert on shoes, but whatever your heart desires.” He made a sweeping movement with his hand and bowed from the waist.

“I've got a great idea.” Celina dug into the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of champagne and handed it to Matt.

“I'll get the glasses,” Debbie Sue said. “I saw some in this fancy dining room.” She headed for the dining room, but Edwina stopped her.

“Just hold everything. They may not charge us for this palace, but are they gonna charge us next month's mortgage payment for what we take out of that refrigerator?”

“They wouldn't dare,” Debbie Sue declared and continued toward the hutch in the dining room. Momentarily, she returned with four champagne flutes. “Let's have a toast.”

Matt poured the glasses full.

“Sounds good to me,” Celina exclaimed, enthusiastically picking up a glass. “What are we drinking to?”

“How about 'til two in the morning?” Edwina guffawed.

Debbie Sue gasped. “Ed, I'm serious. I want to have a moment of silence. I want us to make a toast to Cher. We only knew her for a few hours, but she was a colleague. She didn't deserve to end up in a trunk.”

The four of them grew silent. They bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Then they opened them again. Celina sniffled.

Edwina wiped away a tear. “To Cher. She came to my rescue.” She gulped down her glass of champagne.

“And to successfully stopping her killer,” Matt added.

“And to a wonderful trip to New York and new friends.” Celina said softly.

“Let's drink to all those things. Plus getting to stay in a hotel room that cost more than my trailer house,” Edwina said. “Do you realize I've never done something like this in my whole life and probably never will again?”

“The fridge is full of champagne. Let's start with that and just keep on going,” Debbie Sue said. “If we need more we'll call room service.”

“Now you're talking, ledge walker,” Edwina said. “Now you're talking. Like I said, 'til two in the morning!”

 

The next morning, while Matt showered, Celina sat on the balcony overlooking Manhattan, sipping her morning coffee, a newspaper folded to the crosswords. For the first time in days she was alone with her thoughts. Her two new girlfriends were enjoying their own moments of solitude.

The dinner reservation Matt had made was for eight o'clock. Confusing feelings kept Celina from concentrating on the crossword puzzle. She was excited for an evening of fun and a romantic interlude, but what would happen for her and Matt after that? Her window of opportunity to explore that question was barely open. Tomorrow, her bus would leave within an hour after Edwina and Debbie Sue's morning flight.

There had been no talk of future plans between her and Matt or even the casual exchange of a desire to continue beyond her departure. From the way he looked at her, the way he behaved around her, she had to believe Matt felt the same thing she had come to accept. She was falling in love. She only hoped the opportunity to nurture those emotions would continue.