Joell looked at the ceiling and mumbled something about strength.
“No. The models.”
“I didn’t. They’d all arrived and checked into their rooms by Monday evening. Mr. Gold arranged for a meeting room, but I never went up there.”
“Did you hear any rumors? Anything that might make them leave on their own?”
“No. Nothing.”
“You’re fairly certain they wouldn’t have left Mr. Gold in the lurch. At least not voluntarily.”
“I can’t imagine it. Besides, all of their things were left behind in their rooms.”
“So, you knew that all eight of them were indeed here?”
“I never saw them with my own eyes. Mr. Gold said he’d arranged for them to arrive Monday evening so they could relax and rest up for the hectic days ahead. I took care of the booking and checked that they’d signed in.”
“That’s considerate of you.” Joell leaned closer. “What aren’t you telling me? I need information.”
“Nothing. I’m just upset that this happened in my hotel. These models are the highlight of the conference. If they’re not here, we could have a female riot on our hands.”
Joell raised one eyebrow. “So that’s all you’re concerned about? Your hotel’s reputation being ruined by disappointed women?” She frowned at the hotel manager. “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“Look, if you’re accusing me of something, I’ll have to call my lawyer, but shouldn’t the police be asking these questions?”
“Maybe. Why haven’t you called them?”
Crowe suspected Joell might be off her game… or perhaps she was simply trying to trip the man up. People usually call the Leagueinsteadofthe police.
“Mr. Gold wanted this to be kept absolutely quiet.”
“Is that all that’s stopping you?”
He looked like a trapped animal, glancing left and right for an escape.
Joell leveled her most intense stare at him.
Crowe knew that look well. It was the kind of stare that could make anyone confess to tipping over a litter box, even if they hadn’t.
“To hell with what he wants. I’m calling the police.” He pulled a cell phone from his pocket.
Joell grabbed his wrist. “That won’t be necessary. I was just leaving.”
Uh oh. Crowe suspected her intimidation tactic had backfired.
22
Joell stood on shaky legs after swimming about forty laps across the Olympic-sized pool. Usually, at this point, the mansion’s pool would be replaced with a creek on Funky Mountain, but Bas had given Chad the responsibility, and he didn’t know everything yet. Hey, every job comes with a learning curve, and he’ll learn not to mess with PMS. Oh, yeah.
Now that Joell was feeling better, maybe she could get somewhere with her scrying. She’d never forgive herself if she failed this ‘easy’ mission.
At one point, she swam so hard her bathing suit top came untied. She just heaved it over her head and threw it onto a lounge chair. Crowe crawled back down from his tree and waited by the pool, trying to look like he didn’t see anything.
Wrapped in a towel, Joell strolled over to him, kneeled by the pool and scratched behind his ears. “Did you have a decent view from your tree?” she asked casually.
He looked up at her with wide eyes and mewed innocently.
“Uh huh. I saw you.”
