Murder on the Orient Espresso(2)

It had become our little joke, but now, with this beautiful woman spidering all over him, my use of his last name seemed less … cute. I mean, how was I supposed to mark my territory when I didn’t even call said territory by its first name?

‘I’m sorry?’ Pavlik was still ogling Zoe.

‘Jake, the desk clerk is ready for us.’ I stuck my hand out to the other woman. ‘Hi, I’m Maggy Thorsen.’

‘Zoe Scarlett.’ We shook professionally. Kind of.

‘Zoe was with the Chicago Convention Bureau when I was the sheriff’s office liaison to the bureau.’ Pavlik, having put his eyes back in his head, seemed to realize an explanation was called for. ‘We worked together a couple of times and when Zoe moved to Fort Lauderdale and became the conference organizer for Mystery 101 a couple of years back, she asked me here to speak.’

‘And we’re very glad to have you back.’ Zoe was bouncing up and down. Or parts of her were.

‘How nice,’ I said lamely, thinking, Scarlett? Like Miss Scarlett in Clue?

The woman in question turned to Pavlik. ‘Are you two … together?’

Apparently she’d missed our clinch, or maybe that sort of thing was common behavior between strangers in a Florida hotel line. Either way, the conference organizer recognized the way the question sounded and actually blushed. ‘I mean, I’m not sure a double room was specified.’

I glanced at Pavlik. Hadn’t he told her I was coming?

‘I’m sorry,’ the sheriff said, ‘I—’

‘Missy?’ Zoe called to one of her minions in the milling mass near the elevators, the millers seeming to have regrouped. ‘We’ll check with my assistant, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of making sure there are enough towels and the like. Missy Hudson!’ Zoe Scarlett put a command edge in her voice this time. ‘I swear that girl just pretends not to hear me when—’

‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ interrupted one of a foursome of golfers that had fallen into line behind us, toting bags of clubs that could have stocked a Cro-Magnon arsenal. ‘If you aren’t quite ready to check-in, would you mind if we play through?’

‘Oh, no. Not at all.’ Zoe waved for us to step out of the line. ‘We may need to handle our situation with the hotel’s event coordinator anyway. You just go ahead.’

The men hefted their golf bags as a young woman of about twenty-five with hair just on the blonde side of brown reached us. ‘I’m sorry, Zoe. Did you need something?’

‘Missy, this is the featured speaker for our forensic track, Sheriff Jacob Pavlik. I don’t believe you were on the committee the last time he spoke at Mystery 101.’

‘Good to meet you, Sheriff Pavlik. I’m Missy Hudson.’

‘Jake, please, Missy,’ he said, shaking the young woman’s hand. ‘And this is Maggy Thorsen.’

‘Oh, of course.’ Missy flashed a smile at me. ‘I received your email saying Ms Thorsen was accompanying you, which was no trouble at all, given that Zoe had already requested a suite for you.’

Again, Zoe flushed. ‘Well, good. Not to worry, then.’

It didn’t take a mind-reader to realize that Zoe Scarlett – and could that be her real name? – had designs on something more than putting on a kick-ass conference this weekend.

‘Is that Larry? Thank God.’ Zoe was looking past her assistant and toward the front entrance of the hotel.

I turned, following her gaze through the floor-to-ceiling windows to a lanky man who was stubbing out a cigarette as a curly-haired younger guy spoke to him. As we watched, Smoker held up a hand to Curly-top that seemed more stop-sign than farewell and stepped into the revolving door.

If ‘Larry’ was trying to get away from the kid, he didn’t succeed. Curly-top followed him in.

‘Missy, can you handle this?’ Zoe asked, already moving away.

‘This’ presumably being Pavlik and me. ‘Not to worry, we can just get back in line,’ I said to Zoe’s retreating back.

Then I noticed the dozen or so people who’d queued up since we’d moved aside. The way things were going, it would be hours before Pavlik and I were alone in his reserved suite.

‘No need to do that,’ Missy said. ‘I have an inside track.’

Stepping to one side of the desk, she stuck her head through an archway. ‘Excuse me, Louis, but we’re getting backed up out here?’

A man came out, struggling into a red-and-gold uniform tunic. ‘I’m so sorry, Missy. We’ll bring out two more clerks immediately.’

‘That would be wonderful. The people arriving now will be anxious to get checked in – and changed, of course – before tonight’s event. And could you also give me the welcome packet for the Flagler Suite?’