RESORT TO MURDER (5 page)

Well soaked, mildly puckered, and definitely
relaxed, Maggie toweled off, wrapped herself in a robe, and looked
at the time. She knew she had to call her folks at Bethany
sometime, to answer her mother's message, and supposed this was as
good a time as any. With a sigh she sat down at the phone, stared
at it for a few moments, then picked up the receiver and punched in
the numbers. She listened to the rings with a tightness in her body
which relaxed when she heard the voice of her younger brother.

"Joe! It's me, Maggie."

"Hey, Maggie. How's it going?"

Maggie heard the usual
laid-back tone to her brother's voice, and hated to spoil his mood
with her news. As an older sister she had always felt somewhat
protective of him, even though he had fought that attitude tooth
and nail all their lives, preferring, she felt, to think
he
was the protector.
She had often wondered if that was the reason they always got along
as well as they did because the only thing they fought over was who
was looking after whom.

"Are Mom and Dad there?" she asked.

"No, they went out to dinner with Aunt
Sophie. Too bad you missed them."

Maggie heard the light teasing in his voice
and laughed. He knew her well.

"Mom called here," she said, "wanting to
know if I arrived OK, so I guess you can tell her I did.” She
paused, deciding what to say. "I might be leaving sooner than I
thought, though. I don't know yet."

"Why, what's wrong?” Joe's voice was
suddenly serious, picking up on her tone.

She told him, then, what had happened,
trying to be as detached as possible, but not succeeding totally.
Her voice shook when she said that the victim was Lori, her former
student.

"Maggie, get out of there," Joe said. "Even
if you lose whatever you paid so far, get out of there. Come here,
or go back to Baltimore. Just leave. Tonight."

Joe's ordering manner suddenly annoyed her.
She would make her own decisions. She hadn't called for advice.
"Joe," she said, "I want to see Lori's parents. They must live
around here."

"Maggie..." Joe protested, his tone
exasperated.

"It's the least I can do. I
feel I have to do
something
. I'll probably leave soon,
so don't worry."

"Don't worry?"

"Right, and Joe, maybe you shouldn't tell
the folks right away. It'll only spoil their vacation. I'll tell
them when I see them. After I've left here. OK?"

"Maggie, what if they read about it in the
paper?"

"They're on vacation Joe. Have you ever seen
either of them pick up the paper at the beach? Besides, I doubt
that this will get much publicity beyond this area. It won’t make
the TV news."

"Maggie...."

"I'll let you know what I'm doing, I
promise. I'll probably see you soon.” Maggie wasn't sure if Joe
picked up on the "probably", but she hung up quickly before he
could badger her on it. She didn't know what she planned to do
herself, and didn't want to be pinned down to any promises. She
felt a twinge of guilt at putting Joe off but told herself she
would check in with him again soon. He would just have to be
patient.

She sat by the phone and looked around the
room, wondering what to do next. It was too soon to just go to bed,
and she didn't feel like sitting alone in her room. She was too
keyed up now, and knew she'd never be able to concentrate on
television or any of the paperbacks she had brought with her. She
decided to dress and go down to the main, social floor of the
Inn.

A quick call to Dyna's room a few minutes
later got no answer, so she tucked her key card into the pocket of
her slacks and left the room, not knowing what she was looking for
except perhaps a little more distraction than her television could
provide.

Her first step off the elevator lowered her
hopes. The lobby was deserted except for two whispering employees
behind the desk. The women looked up as Maggie came near and waited
to see if she wanted something. She merely smiled a greeting, which
was returned, and walked on, hearing the whispering resume behind
her.

A glance out the tall windows showed the
lawns beyond, floodlit and with a uniformed guard in sight. Maggie
felt no temptation to leave the relative security that walls and
locked doors offered tonight, and continued down the hall. The
dining room was nearly empty, only one or two tables still occupied
by lingering couples sipping coffee. The soft sound of music drew
Maggie's attention farther down, and she came to a small cocktail
lounge. She stepped in.

The music came from a jukebox, a slow
melancholy country song. A small bandstand was vacant, and four or
five people sat at scattered tables, talking quietly or just
staring at the jukebox or down at their drink. No one seemed to
notice or care particularly when Maggie walked in, and as she
didn't see Dyna, the one person she knew here so far, she went to
the small bar and sat down alone.

A bartender came over and smiled. "Hi there.
What'll you have."

The disapproving face of Burnelle flashed
before Maggie's eyes, but she blinked it away. "Bud light."

He poured it out for her, and slid over a
bowl of nuts. As Maggie took small sips and nibbled, she looked at
all the pictures on the wall in back of the bar, read and reread
all the advertisements, and gradually began to wonder if this was
really better than sitting upstairs watching television. The
country song was replaced by another one, slower and sadder.

Another young woman walked in and sat a few
stools away from her, leaning her arms onto the bar. She wore the
hotel waitress uniform covered partially with a light jacket, and
she reached for a pack of cigarettes in one pocket and tapped out
one slightly bent cigarette.

"Hey Dave, got any free beers for me
tonight?"

"In your dreams, babe," he said, grinning.
"You still working?"

"Nah. It's so slow, Roz told me to take
off."

"Yeah, it's the same here. I think we'll be
closing up early.” Neither of them said the reason out loud, but
Maggie could feel it hanging in the air: a girl was murdered; Lori
Basker was murdered. She picked up a peanut from the dish, and
looked away from them.

The bartender, Dave, wandered to the other
end of the bar and stooped down, checking the stock. Maggie felt
the waitress's eyes on her and looked over. The young woman smiled
and pointed to the dish of nuts. "Mind if I have a few? They're all
I can afford tonight."

Maggie smiled back and said, "Sure," sliding
the bowl between them. The waitress moved over one stool and
grabbed a handful of nuts, pushing half into her mouth. She was
small and slim, with dark, frizzy-curly hair framing her face. Her
bright red lipstick left prints on the end of her cigarette. A name
tag pinned near her collar said "Holly". Maggie recognized her now
as the girl with the teary face she had seen at the tennis courts,
watching them bundle up Lori's body.

Holly looked at Maggie closely and said,
"You're the one found Lori, aren't you?"

Maggie nodded

"I saw them talking to you," Holly continued.
"Must've been pretty bad, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Maggie agreed. "I guess you worked
with her?"

"Yeah. Nice kid."

Maggie guessed that Lori might have been all
of two or three years younger than Holly. It evidently was enough
for Holly to consider her the "kid".

"She just started here," Holly said, "last
month, for the summer. She was going to college, and was always
reading books and things during her breaks."

"Was she?"

"Yeah, must have been smart. She didn't hang
around with the rest of us, but then we didn't know her too
long."

Maggie remembered the tears she had seen on
Holly's face and thought Lori had evidently made at least a small
dent into Holly's life.

"Was she seeing anyone? I mean, someone
mentioned she might have been seeing the tennis pro, Rob, uh,
Clayton. Was that right?"

"Why, you got your eye on him?” Holly
laughed, then suddenly seemed to remember they were talking about a
murder and stopped. "Wouldn't blame you, half the girls around here
do. But I don't know if Lori was seeing him. Can't say I ever saw
them together. She did disappear every so often, now that I think
of it, but I don't know if she was meeting someone. Why, was the
sheriff asking questions?"

"The sheriff didn't ask many questions at
all, except for the obvious ones. He seems to be a busy man, maybe
too busy for solving murders.” As soon as she said it Maggie
realized how foolish it must sound. After all, that was the
sheriff's job. How could he be too busy to do his job properly?
Busy with what? She noticed, however, that Holly wasn't looking at
her as if she had lost her mind.

"Hah!" Holly hooted. "That sounds like
Sheriff Burger all right. The only thing he has a lot of time for
is getting himself re-elected. My guess is he's going to try to pin
it on some bum he finds passed out somewhere. That, and keep it all
as quiet as he can. Bad publicity for the hotel, you know. He gets
a hefty donation for his campaigns from the owners."

"Oh?” Maggie's eyebrows went up, but she was
unsure how seriously to take that. Could a sheriff really be that
lax?

"Uh-huh.” Holly nodded firmly. "You know,
this isn't the first time something's happened around here.” She
paused and glanced around, continuing in a lowered voice and
leaning towards Maggie.

"One of the girls, Melanie - this was when I
first started here about two years ago - was found dead in her room
here one morning from an overdose of sleeping pills. The sheriff
called it a suicide, but most people that knew her didn't believe
that. They said there was no reason for her to kill herself. She
wasn't depressed, for cripe's sake. She was thinking of getting
married! And nobody knew anything about her taking sleeping pills
either. It's like they suddenly appeared out of nowhere."

Maggie shook her head, frowning. "That isn't
really like what happened to Lori today. She was clearly
murdered."

"Yeah, I know. Sheriff
can't call it suicide 'cause no one's going to bash their own head
in - sorry,” she said, as Maggie winced. "I know there's no proof
the Melanie
didn’t
kill herself, but believe me, there's still a real creepy
feeling hanging around here about it. Like, maybe someone got away
with murder."

Maggie looked at the young waitress
speculatively. She had an intense, wary expression on her thin
face, like a young deer, Maggie thought, alert to danger. "Why do
you stay here if you're so concerned?"

"The money. Can't find a job that pays as
good around here. And I really need it right now. But as soon as I
get enough of a stake saved up, believe me I'll be out of
here."

Dave, the bartender had moved closer and
cleared his throat, trying to get Holly's attention, but she didn't
seem to notice.

"And if I were you," she went on to Maggie,
"I'd go to some other place to vacation. Someplace....” She noticed
Maggie looking past her shoulder and turned to see Kathryn Crawford
standing a few feet away in the open doorway. The older woman stood
stiffly, frowning her displeasure.

"Holly, aren't you on duty now?"

"No ma'm. Roz told me to take off early."

"I see.” The manager's gaze left Holly and
moved to Maggie. She managed a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"Good evening Miss Olenski."

Maggie nodded, feeling the tension in the
air between Holly and Ms. Crawford, wishing she could do or say
something to relieve it but unable to think of anything.

Ms. Crawford turned and walked down the
hall. Holly made a face at her back. "She probably heard me tell
you to get out of here. She's been here so long she thinks of the
place as hers and can't stand hearing anyone bad-mouth it. She
needs to get a life. Her and her daughter eat, sleep and breathe
Highview."

"She has a daughter working here too?"

"Yeah, she's her assistant. Talk about
nek... nes...?"

"Nepotism?"

"Yeah. Anyway, you know she got her job
because of her mother, and she's not any older than any of us
waitresses. But Miss high-and-mighty Crawford can't lower herself
to speak to us, except to point out what we did wrong, of course.”
Holly jabbed her cigarette out in the ashtray with some
vehemence.

"Um, Holly, do you happen to know where
Lori's family lives?"

Holly shook her head. "No, but I could find
out for you easy. Why, you want to go see them?"

Maggie nodded. "I taught Lori when she was
in tenth grade and got to know her folks a little. They sent me a
couple of Christmas cards after they moved to this area, but I
don't remember the address. They were good people. I'd like to talk
to them. Maybe there's something I can do."

Holly nodded, her face solemn. She stood up
to leave, and reached for a final handful of nuts. "I can probably
get it to you by tomorrow. And, uh, look, maybe don't worry too
much about everything I said, okay? I mean, I'm just kind of upset
and all. My boyfriend says I get too hyper about things.” She
flashed a quick grin. "So anyway, maybe, just forget it, okay?"

"Sure.” Maggie smiled back at her. She
watched the young waitress leave, turning the opposite direction
Kathryn Crawford had gone, and thought about their conversation.
Was Holly's version of an earlier death colored by today's tragedy,
she wondered, or had there really been another murder at the
Highview? And was her opinion of Sheriff Burger justified?

She didn't know the girl well enough to
answer those questions for herself yet, but she knew they would be
two more contributions to a restless night. She sighed and finished
the last of her beer, felt for the key card tucked in her pocket,
and headed for the elevator. She wondered, as she walked, if her
skin could take another soaking bubble bath or not.