Page 29 of What Doesn't Kill You…

Rodrigo stood. "I'll get it. You'd better sit back down before your watch dog attacks."

Max sighed but sat down. "You can't control me with a series of growls," he told Violet.

"And yet, you prove otherwise," she replied, picking up a pair of sunglasses from the table beside her and slipping them on.

"Look who I found," Rodrigo said as he came back out onto the patio.

He was followed by Abasi, dressed in the blue uniform the resort preferred. His version consisted of a T-shirt with the words Wedding Island Resort embroidered on the chest, and a pair of long, modest dress shorts. He was also pushing a food cart.

"Somebody hired you?" Katrina looked genuinely stunned.

"I interview well," Abasi said. "Plus, they're seriously short-staffed." He grabbed a bottle of Coke from the cooler on the trolley then plopped on the other end of the sofa from Max.

When they stared at him, he held up his hands. "If you're waiting for me to serve you, you're gonna starve."

Rodrigo went over to the cart. "You just can't get good help these days," he drawled.

"What'd I miss?" Abasi asked. "By the way, the fish is for me. I added it to your order."

"What? You want me to serve you?" Rodrigo shook his head as he handed Abasi the fish. "You sorely misunderstand the role of a service industry professional. You're probably going to get fired before you're of any use to us."

Abasi didn't seem worried. "You'd have to blow this place up to get fired. They're desperate. Now, I'll ask again, what'd I miss?"

Katrina replied, "The estate is locked up tight. Access on three sides is blocked. Rodrigo thinks wandering over to check out Damien's driveway will set off too many alarms. Oh, and somebody searched the bungalow while Max and Violet were out this morning."

"No surprise there," Abasi said. "I'da done the same thing after finding out my favorite reporter had booked a room. They find anything interesting?"

"Only that Max and Violet didn't share a bed last night," Rodrigo said.

"Way to reinforce your cover, guys," Abasi said with disgust.

"Do any of the hotel staff work at Poole's house?" Rodrigo asked as he handed out the food.

"Nope, he's got his own staff," Abasi said. "Sometimes he'll pull in some of the more experienced people from the hotel, like when he's got a special event on, but that's rare."

"So, we can't get in that way either." Rodrigo sat back down.

Max felt his stomach tighten and suddenly his chicken sandwich didn't look so good. "How are we supposed to get eyes on the place then? If I can't see who's meeting Poole, this whole venture is pointless. Ideally, I'd like to get into the house and check out his office, see if there's any evidence lying around that would help, but at the very least I have to find out who his silent partner is."

"The florist." Violet decided to use words again, although they still sounded like a growl. Her sunglasses dwarfed her face and turned her into a scary bug. The kind that would sting first rather than wait until it felt threatened. "Flower deliveries. House plants."

Everyone stared at her.

"What?" she demanded.

"We need more words," Rodrigo said.

"The florist will deliver to the estate," she gritted out.

'"You should listen to her," Max said with a grin. "She is a florist, after all."

"I've missed something," Abasi said to Violet. "Care to share?"

She growled again.

"You growl a lot," Abasi said, proving he had no fear. "Ever thought of getting that checked out by a specialist? There's probably something stuck in your throat."

Violet's growl turned deeper and more threatening.