I was halfway up the stairs before Carmel stopped me.“Here,” she called, rushing up to meet me.“Take these.”
“Gloves?”I asked, taking the floppy blue nitrile gloves from her.“Why?”
“Just in case they change their minds,” she repeated, giving me a half-smile.“And the ladies are still staying here, the gall, so just mind your Ps and Qs.I’ll try and slow them down with afternoon tea if they come back before you’re done.”
“Thank you,” I said fervently.“Seriously.Thank you.”
“Go, go, go,” she urged, already heading back down the stairs.“I’m gonna go grab the last eclair before Sienna steals it.You just hurry!”
#
THE ROOM WAS THE SAMEone I'd been in months ago.About the size of a decent hotel room, it was far cozier than your standard Holiday Inn, appointed with antiques and handmade bedding accented by dark wood floors and trim with milk painted walls in robin's egg blue.
Well, it had been when I was there.
Even with all of the sisters’ work, the room was nearly wall to wall mess.The bedding was piled in one corner, trash bags and cardboard boxes stood in stacks in the middle of the room.The bed frame was crooked, pushed diagonally away from the door like someone had just shoved it wherever it would be out of the way.The smell of stale, sour cat urine was heavy, especially near the bundled up rug I remembered as being hand-woven and ornate. The dresser, nightstand, and chair were all pushed against the wall opposite the bed, some scratches on one side of the dresser that made me think Charlemagne had gotten bored when left to his own devices.Carefully, I picked my way across the room and chose the plastic tub to start looking through.The gloves were tight and my hands started sweating pretty much the second I put them on, but I was grateful for them as soon as I lifted the lid.The contents stank of something rotten, something fishy and metallic.Did Carmel pack open cat food in here?Jesus...I wondered briefly if the sisters' cats—Alice B.Toklas and Gertrude Stein—had got into the room and maybe buried something in the debris, leaving a present for their humans in the wrongest of wrong places.Reluctantly, I moved the first layer of things around.Socks—a few clean, folded up pairs but mostly loose, worn ones.A few pairs of underpants, undershirts, two ties, and a salmon-colored Henley that would've looked awful on Tubbs.The next layer down was papers, mostly torn up or crumpled, some heavy manila envelopes of the interoffice mail sort, all foxed around the edges from long and repeated use.Also empty.
Most of the ruined papers were receipts from places around town (I had no idea you could spend over a hundred dollars at Cucina Roma, Lester Cove's only Italian restaurant that wasn't a pizza place—it was tiny and served mostly seafood pasta and none of their four entrees were over eight dollars).A few were from LA, names I recognized and some I didn't.One was from Lester Cove Free Library.Which, ironically, wasn't entirely free since they charged for copies and faxing.
Because faxing was still a thing, I guess.I mean, apparently, some people still lived in the Stone Age or something.
The sound of voices in the hall made me freeze.It was Sienna, talking to someone I couldn't hear respond.She’s just on thephone, I realized and my breath rushed out in a softwhoosh.Shoving the receipt into my hip pocket, I kept digging.The rest of the box wasn't fruitful, just disgusting, so I moved to one of the open cardboard boxes stacked nearby.It was more trash, more food wrappers and drink containers.It looked like Tubbs had been existing largely on junk food and canned seltzer water with a few beers thrown in for good measure.There were take-out boxes from the Pelican and a few other places in town as well as used napkins from the fast-food franchises in Bangor.He was only here one night before moving to the boat.Did he just pack his trash in with his luggage or something?Gross.
A few more boxes and bags later and all I'd learned was Charlemagne (or one of the Moons’ cats) peed on everything fabric he could find due to the fact there was no litter box and no accessible kitty potty chair, Tubbs overpacked, and he didn't throw out his trash.I was going to need a long, scalding shower when I got back to Witte House.Working the gloves off was a relief, even though it was a pain in the ass to get it off of my casted hand and I considered just leaving it there till I could get some scissors and cut the glove away.I stuck them in my pocket, part of my brain stuck on the possibility of this being evidence and not wanting to give anyone more reasons to think I was a killer.One final look around the room didn't turn anything up, no flashing lights and pointing arrows showing me some clue I'd missed, so I eased into the hall and, once I was certain no one was coming around a corner, hustled myself downstairs.
"Damien," Sienna called before I could reach the front door."Did you find what you were looking for?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted."Hey, do you go to the library often?"
Sienna's offended expression told me the answer.
"Sorry, sorry!Do you know if they keep records of the stuff they print out?"
She raised a brow at me."I have no idea.I don't see why they would."
I nodded."You're probably right.I'm heading out.Tell Carmel I said bye."
Sienna followed me to the door."I thought of something after you left yesterday," she said in a low tone, aiming not to be overheard by Carmel's lynx ears."When you asked about the fight?I didn't think about this till later.Tubbs, he was angry as all get out.Not just at Anmorata.At Ms.Sommers too.A different kind of anger though.With Anmorata, it was kind of more annoyed.”She darted a glance past me to make sure we were alone.“He got real froggy with Ms.Sommers though, told her she needs to get her head out of her ass and something about she should know how these things work.She seems like a nice enough lady, nicer than that other one anyway.But Tubbs, he was really in her face.She was just sort of...frozen, I guess is the way to describe her.”
“This was in front of Anmorata?”
She shook her head.“She’d already gone.Ms.Terhune had her PA take her back home.”
“Nate.”
Sienna nodded.“It was disgusting, is what it was.The entire thing.Like one of those godawful reality shows but in our foyer.If we’d had any other guests, I don’t even want to being to think of how that would’ve gone.Bad enough already we’re down a room right before the Weems check in next week.”She glanced back to make sure Carmel wasn’t listening before adding, “That Ms.Terhune, she had a quiet word with Tubbs after.I don’t know what she said to him but he took off like the hounds of hell were on his heels.If I had to guess, she got on him about how he was treating Ms.Sommers.”
I thought of Pamela’s quiet, removed grief at the tea shop the other day, her worry that Tubbs had been alone when he’d died.How Gwendolyn had been so firm that he’d been alone...
How would she know?
Maybe I’d been looking in the wrong direction.Or maybe she just knew more than she wanted Pamela to know.
Anmorata Blue wasn’t the only person missing.Where was Nate?I thought of the profile I’d seen passing me after leaving the tea house.Had that been Nate after all?Skulking around waiting for...what?For the ladies?Then why hadn’t he gotten them into the car and driven away?Why had he been just waiting there like a creeper?It reminded me of some of the paps and super fans Max had to deal with, parking in front of his house and the hotels he’d been known to stay at, waiting for a glimpse.
Wait...Had he taken the pictures?He’d been in a position to at the cocktail party...
"Thanks," I said to Sienna."That might change things a bit I think."Maybe, maybe...
