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She opened her suitcase and began unpacking. Her formal dress needed pressing. Hopefully, the hotel’s laundry service could handle it. The outfit she’d planned to wear tonight was also wrinkled, and she decided to iron it, on the off chance she could talk Noah into changing his mind. He wasn’t paying attention and probably assumed she was ironing something for tomorrow. She finished and hung the short jumpsuit in the closet.
“You working on your work presentation?” she asked.
“Nah. Still trying to figure out who the culprit is. Since it’s not any of the contestants, I’m looking at friends and family now. There’s always the possibility they hired a stranger, but I have no way of tracking that.”
She walked up behind him to look at his monitor. Headshots of all the candidates were in a spreadsheet. “Okay, so, two have dropped out, one died, it’s not me. That leaves six. I think we can rule out Cho. The girl from the lobby? She seems too sweet.”
“Maybe,” he said. “That would leave five. You know enough about any of them to take a guess at who would be so ruthless?”
“No. I kind of knew Megan, one of the gals that backed out, but even that was superficial.”
“Do you have the name of someone I could contact about security for the event?”
“I have the email they sent saying I’d been nominated.”
“That’s a start. Will you send it to me?”
She did and then worked on compiling a few videos she could post every couple of hours. “I can post now, right? Since everyone knows where I am anyway?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s fine.”
After posting a video using the beach footage, she recorded another that explained where she’d been the last day and a half, and scheduled it to post automatically in two hours. While she hated using a death in the family as an excuse—people might think she was gunning for pity points—it was the truth, and she couldn’t afford to mess around. Missing that time set her back, and she had to catch up.
She took a video of her room and the view, carefully avoiding Noah, and set that one to post in the morning. Those would be her last big pleas for votes. The polls closed tomorrow afternoon, so she had to get in as many as possible in the next sixteen hours.
“Noah,” she said. “Can we revisit going to the party tonight? It’s starting soon. We could just stop by for a second, say some hellos, eat some shrimp, and leave.”
“Sorry, Daisy,” he said. “Still not on board. The contest organizers replied to my email, and security is a joke. They think colored wristbands will keep unwanted guests out. Of the few people they hired, none of them will be armed and don’t have any authority to arrest. They’re all rent-a-cops meant to act more as bouncers than security.”
She knew her pouty face wouldn’t change his mind, but she hadn’t come all this way to sit in a hotel room. Noah was being overly cautious. No one would be stupid enough to shoot her in a ballroom full of people. The bigger the crowd, the better.
When he excused himself to take a shower, she made a hasty decision. This was her only shot at freedom. She’d just pop down and say hello, have a quick drink, and be back before he knew it. As soon as the water started, she slipped into the sparkly jumpsuit she’d brought for the event, threw her hair into a messy bun, grabbed her heels, and tiptoed out.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Before heading to the party, Daisy took the elevator to the roof and posted a quick video begging for last-minute votes. She had to dig deep to put on the happy-go-lucky persona, and she felt like a traitor to her family for seeming so peppy, but she had to finish this. This award, in her mind, meant freedom.
By the time she got downstairs, the video already had a hundred likes. She slid up next to the bar and ordered a cosmopolitan, which the bartender produced quickly. A man approached her, and she thought nothing of it. She also wasn’t surprised when he started a conversation.
“I recognize you,” he said. “You’re Daisy Parker, right?”
“Guilty,” she said. She looked away and scanned the room for anyone she could excuse herself to go talk to.
“I voted for you,” the man continued, reaching for something behind her. When she turned around to grab her glass, he was swiping a napkin back and forth.
“Awesome,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, I think you’re the best new talent I’ve ever seen. Your videos really make me want to travel Europe.”
“I appreciate it.” Her stomach somersaulted, and she sipped again, hoping to settle her nerves. Was it guilt over ditching Noah? No, that wasn’t it. A bout of vertigo hit, and she grabbed the bar to steady herself. Something felt wrong.
“You okay?” the man asked. “You don’t look so good.”
“I do feel kind of funny,” she said. “The room isn’t spinning, is it?” She tried to joke, but fear crept in. Was she going to pass out?
“How ’bout I help you to your room,” the man offered.
Normally, she would never agree to such an offer, but her stomach was in full revolt, and she didn’t want to barf in the middle of the party. She grabbed her phone, intending to call Noah, but gave up when her fingers quit working.
