Page 51 of Sunset Beach
He scrawled the name on the pass and handed it to Corey. “Keep that displayed on your dashboard and park in one of the visitor slots near the lobby. That’s only for tonight, though.”
“You were brilliant,” Drue said, as she stepped out of the BMW. “Understated but persuasive.”
“I played Second Elf from the Left in our kindergarten production ofSanta’s Secret Workshop,” Corey said modestly. “My parents said I killed.”
“This is some spread, huh?” Drue said, as they surveyed their surroundings. The low-slung white stucco architecture of the main building was nearly obscured by lush tropical landscaping. Huge tree ferns and palms intertwined above a red tile walkway that led to the glass-enclosed three-story atrium. A white-uniformed doorman silently opened the doors as they approached. “Welcome to Gulf Vista,” he murmured.
The lobby was dominated by a huge marble fountain, where water gurgled softly and bright orange koi flitted among shining copper pennies.
“Very impressive,” Corey said, as they walked through the lobby. “I wouldn’t mind getting married here.”
“Any prospects?” Drue asked.
“Not lately. Where do you want to start our mission?”
“Let’s just walk around, get the lay of the land,” Drue said.
They moved through the lobby and out through another set of large glass doors to a jungle-like garden with more winding red tile walkways. Irregularly spaced uplights cast the area in moody shadows. “They must spend a fortune on all this landscaping,” Corey observed.
“It’s kind of creepy if you ask me,” Drue said. “I keep expecting a coconut to fall on my head or a spider monkey to spring out at me from one of those palm trees.”
Eventually the walkway led them to a sprawling patio and pool area.
“That’s more like it,” Drue said. It was dusk now, and the kidney-shaped pool seemed to beckon in the waning light. There was a thatched-roof tiki bar, where a bartender in a Hawaiian shirt with a hibiscus tucked behind her ear wielded a silver cocktail shaker. Strings of cafélights crisscrossed above the pool, lending a festive atmosphere. Guests lolled on chaises and chairs around the pool, sipping drinks. Beyond, there was another line of perfectly spaced royal palms, and beyond that, they heard the distant sound of waves washing ashore on the beach.
Drue pointed at a three-story wing to the north. “That’s the wing where Jazmin was working the night she was killed,” she said. “Zee’s report said the hotel’s security cameras showed her rolling her cleaning cart from that wing to the laundry room, which was where her body was found.”
“What now?”
She grabbed his hand. “Let’s take an innocent stroll that way.”
“What if we get stopped?”
“Who’s going to stop us?” she scoffed. “We’re young and beautiful and in love.”
They approached a set of double glass doors leading to a small lobby in the north wing, and Drue’s hopes were dashed.
“Damn,” she said, pointing at the key card slot. She tried the doors, but asexpected, they were locked. Drue looked around, hoping a guest would appear with a key, allowing them to tag right along, but nobody was around. She glanced upward and saw a small video camera pointed in their direction.
“The laundry room should be around here somewhere,” she mused, moving away from the doors and out of camera range. She pointed at a narrower, concrete walkway that led toward the back of the wing. A discreet sign tucked into a mass of ferns proclaimed:SERVICE AREA. TEAM MEMBERS ONLY.
“I love a company that refers to employees as ‘team members,’” Drue said, following the walkway toward the rear of the building. When Corey didn’t reply, she turned to see him still standing in front of the guest wing.
“Come on,” she called. “Let’s check it out.”
“Is that wise?” he asked, joining her reluctantly.
“If one of the ‘team members’ comes along, they’re not going toshootus,” Drue said impatiently. “We’ll say we got lost. It’s not like it’s the hotel vault we’re trying to break into. It’s only a laundry room.”
“I bet they have some really high-thread-count sheets and towels here, though. Probably Egyptian cotton,” Corey said.
As they progressed around the building the impressive landscaping gave way to cracked concrete and weedy-looking pine straw. The sidewalk ended abruptly in front of a set of solid-looking steel doors with a key card reader.
“Damn it,” Drue fumed. She looked up at the security camera pointed toward them, and pivoted quickly in the opposite direction with Corey following closely this time. A few yards away, she stopped and peered around the branches of a bedraggled-looking hibiscus. The grass beneath it was beaten down and littered with cigarette butts.
“Looks like we found the team’s smoking lounge,” she told Corey.
“But did you find any clues to who could have killed the girl?” he asked.
