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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Noah turned off the water. He felt bad he’d shut Daisy down on the idea of going to the reception tonight. It would probably be fine as long as she stuck close to him. He’d apologize and tell her they could go downstairs for a bit.
The second his feet hit the shower mat, he intuitively knew something was off. Hastily, he threw a towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door, calling Daisy’s name.
When she didn’t answer, he charged into the room, unconcerned that he was dripping water all over the floor. It only took a quick scan to see that she was gone. He checked the closet and noticed the dress she’d ironed earlier was also MIA.
“Damn it, Daisy,” he muttered, reaching for his clothes. He dried off and got dressed in a matter of seconds. When he went to grab his room key, he saw a note lying next to it, written on the hotel notepad.
Nipped out for a quick appearance. Be back soon. Below that was a big cursive D and a smiley face.
What part of “don’t leave the room” did she not understand? He scrawled a note of his own, telling her to stay put and call him if she got this before he returned.
He shoved his phone into his pocket, ran his hands through his still-wet hair, and left. The night-before reception was downstairs somewhere, but the hotel was huge. He headed down to start searching.
After passing a wedding reception, some kind of work conference, and a bar mitzvah, he finally found it at the end of the hall. He entered and scanned the room for a tall, leggy blond. Unfortunately, the place was full of them. He quickly realized Daisy’s bright personality didn’t stick out as much in a room of social media stars.
There were three bars. They would be the best place to start. At the first one, Noah asked the bartender if he’d seen a pretty blond wearing a sparkly dress. The bartender had laughed, and Noah could see why. His description fit two thirds of the attendees. He tried the other bars, but no one was helpful. There were about a hundred partygoers, and he felt like he’d gotten a look at them all. Maybe she’d gone back to the room, and they’d just missed each other on the elevator.
He called her cell phone, but was sent straight to voicemail. Worry inched up his spine. As he made his way to the exit, he stopped dead in his tracks at the mention of Daisy’s name.
“Did you see Daisy Parker?” a woman said to her friend. “She was so drunk, she could barely walk.”
“Oh, yeah,” the friend replied. “Sasha said Gabbi’s BFF had to practically carry her out of here.”
Alarm bells went off. Daisy hadn’t been gone long enough to get that drunk.
“Excuse me,” Noah said to the women. “I overheard you talking about Daisy Parker. How long ago did you see her? And who was she with?”
Eager to gossip, the women told him what they knew.
“This was just a few minutes ago,” one woman said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and giving Noah a come-hither look. “She was slurring her words and could barely stand by herself. She must have been throwing ’em back pretty hard.”
“Gabbi’s bestie, Lance, was helping her,” the other woman added. “Which was weird. I thought he never left Gabbi’s side. He’s so obviously in love with her, and she has no idea.”
After watching some of Gabbi’s videos, Noah had come to the same conclusion. Lance’s body language as he followed Gabbi around and interacted with her was evident. He loved her, and she seemed disinclined to reciprocate the feeling. There was definitely some unrequited love. What lengths would he go to for her attention? And was that a motive to kill?
The women scoured the room until, finally, one of them said, “There’s Gabbi.” She pointed to a woman Noah recognized from the videos he’d been watching. “I don’t see Lance with her, but he’s usually not far off.”
“Thanks,” Noah said over his shoulder, already walking away.
Gabbi was talking to someone, but stopped abruptly at Noah’s hard stare. “Hellooo,” she said, wiggling her fingers in a wave.
“Where’s Lance?” Noah said.
Gabbi’s smile fell, and her brows creased, clearly put off by his bluntness. She crossed her arms. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m a friend of Daisy Parker’s. I think Lance took her.”
“What? No, he was just here,” Gabbi said. She went up on her tiptoes to scan the room.
“Two people said they saw him leave with Daisy about ten minutes ago.”
A confused look crossed her face. She opened her mouth to respond, but then her eyes lit up. “There he is,” she said, pointing to the entrance.
Noah’s head whipped around. Sure enough, he’d come in alone and was heading their way.
“Where’s Daisy?” Noah asked as Lance approached.
