Page 48 of Sea Breezes at The Beach House Hotel

“Business is business, Clint. You know that,” chided Claudine. “You were brought on specifically for this project because of your contacts and your reputation for being fair. You must sign these papers. You’re obligated to do so. Let me get you some coffee while you think about it.”

She poured some coffee into a paper cup. “I’m serving it this way to make it easier for you to drink. Do you want me to help you?”

He shook his head and took a sip, then another. “I’ve already explained why I can’t go along with these numbers. You’ve changed everything. Now, I can’t honestly endorse it.”

“What about us?” Claudine said.

“There is no us,” said Clint. “There never was.”

“But I overheard you tell Nell you couldn’t live with her,” said Claudine.

“That was in the heat of anger, and we’ve resolved the issues that were coming between us,” said Clint. “Besides, it was a conversation you should never have overheard. It was supposed to be in the privacy of my office.”

I stood frozen in place. When Claudine started to cry, I eased away from the doorway. This, too, was a private conversation.

###

When I walked back into my office, I was surprised to see Rhonda.

“ ’Morning. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you were going to try to take the day off.”

“I’ve been thinking about Clint,” said Rhonda. “Will told me Clint’s resigning from his job and the project he was working on. I’ve had some worrying thoughts. Nothing specific, but I want to be here.”

I felt my heart stop and then start up again. Rhonda’s intuitions were usually spot on.

“The wedding party that just left was a very easy one,” said Rhonda. “Too bad all of them couldn’t be like that. I want to be sure the hospitality department writes them a thank you note.”

“Yes. It’s important to follow up with other members of the wedding party, as well. You never know when we’ll get another wedding out of that group.”

My cell rang. Clint.

“Hi, what’s up?” I asked.

“Help me,” Clint said in a soft voice and then went silent.

I gaped at Rhonda and waved her out of her chair. “C’mon. Clint needs help.”

We trotted down to the conference room and looked inside.

Clint’s face was turned away from us, his upper body sprawled on the conference table.

“Clint! What happened?” I said, rushing to him.

“I think I’ve been drugged. I can’t move. Help me. I’m going to be sick.”

Rhonda and I got him to his feet and to the bathroom in the hallway outside the door.

A few minutes later, Clint emerged from the bathroom looking ghostly white. “Claudine must’ve slipped something in my coffee. She made me sign the new contract. I need to get to her to retrieve those papers. She’s probably on her way to Miami.”

“Rhonda, you stay with Clint. I’m going to see if she’s checked out,” I said, and sprinted away.

I hurried to the front desk. “Has Claudine Everett checked out?

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” said one of the clerks. “She left in her fancy car.”

“Thanks,” I said, and trotted back to Rhonda and Clint.

“She left moments ago in her car,” I said. “We might be able to catch her.”