Wine, Dine and Christmas Crimes Maria Swan (read e book txt) 📖

small ribbons of light appearing to filter from the walls. Maybe from the doors of the lower floors? Why is it so important?”

“You left your fingerprints everywhere. We are trying to work out a time sequence and also eliminate people like you who were here for a specific reason.”

“Oh, I get it. So if Miss Martin dropped a shoe into the chute you would have found her fingerprints. Smart. Did she?”

“Did she what?” Brenda spoke for the first time.

“You know, drop her shoe?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head all at the same time. “Seriously, Monica, what’s with this shoe dropping?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like a modern day Cinderella, you know.” The minute I said it, I knew they’d all assume I’d been smoking something really nefarious. “Is it okay to go look at the pool?” I figured I’d already made a fool of myself with my footwear theory, so what the heck! We walked out of the authorized personnel place, and I noticed Detective Ross’s partner coming from the elevator landing. She must have seen us. She waved.

“I need you to retrace what you did after the dinner and the cleaning up was done. Did you dispose of the trash using the 24th-floor chute? I’m asking because I was told you always take care of the cleaning. In other words you make sure when the job is done the house looks like it did before you started.”

Leta liked that a lot. I figured she would go through every little detail and probably spend more time retracing than it actually took to do the job. B-o-r-i-n-g. I had to get out of there. But Brenda followed them around like her life depended on every word Leta said. Come to think of it, her future financial life probably did.

“I’m going to go say hi to Kay.” I went straight to the elevator before anyone could stop me. No one tried. The minute the door closed I realized I was on the direct line, and in a zip I was back down to the lobby. No biggie, I simply got into the regular elevator and pushed the 24th floor, but suddenly the door opened again, and who came flying in but Double Wide. What?

The person of interest had his back to me while he checked the floors, the only lit button was 24. He didn’t push anything, turned around, and said, “Looks like we are both headed to the same floor.”

After I found a way of actually making sounds, I said, “Kay Lewis’s place, I assume?”

His puzzlement couldn’t be faked. He cocked his head and looked at me, a full head shorter than he was.

“Oh, I know you.” He smiled. “You’re that newbie. Kay told me about you. You’re the poor soul who had temporary charge of THE condo and that open house that never happened.”

And on that, the elevator stopped on the 24th floor, and we both stepped out. He obviously had visited Kay before. His stride showed no signs of insecurity. I followed him. The condo’s door was ajar. He tapped lightly, it opened more, and he walked in, calling out for Kay. And once again I tagged along. I was getting good at it.

Well, Kay’s place was like I had imagined, only better. High ceilings, big windows, view to die for, and pale blue silk everywhere. Silk moiré covered the sofa and matched the tie-backs through the whole main room. I caught a glimpse of the fabulous Christmas tree, much better than it looked in the pics. Then I caught a glimpse of a disheveled Kay, in a drab caftan that covered her from neck to toe. She sat at the dining room table, surrounded by used tissues, her face puffy from crying.

“Thank you for coming.” I was sure that was meant for Mr. Dale Wolf because when he drew closer, she noticed me, and her expression changed. Not in a good way. “What? Monica, how did you get in?” Her eyes bounced from Dale Wolf to me, and that was not at all the welcome I had expected.

“She was on her way up,” he said. “I assumed you were expecting her.”

All she did was shake her head and pull fresh tissues from the box on the table. I had to say something I guess.

“Sorry, Kay, I was upstairs, you know, the 28th floor. The detectives are grilling poor Leta, something about ice cubes and trash on the night of your party.” Saying that felt good. Teach her for not inviting us, her coworkers and friends—although she wasn’t very friendly today, at least not to me. “I drove in with Brenda and frankly got bored. I figured I’d stop by and say hello, didn’t know you weren’t—uh—well.”

Perhaps I’d said enough, time to bow and slowly backway to the door, except...

“Wait. You said they are asking Leta about trash? Her too? Sit down. You too, Dale. You do know what trash they are really talking about, don’t you?”

I didn’t, but maybe she was talking to Dale Wolf again. Either way, I sat and prepared myself for some juicy gossip. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

NINETEEN

FOR TWENTY MINUTES I listened to Dale Wolf and Kay Lewis recall the virtues of the deceased Miss Martin. While they both knew that wasn’t her legal name neither seemed eager to discuss her real identity, or maybe they didn’t know it.

I had to confess that in those twenty minutes I learned more about myself than about anyone in that room. Wolf and Kay’s families were from the same small town in Oregon. Wolf’s real estate career was inspired by Kay’s success. They were friends, but according to Kay, she didn’t particularly approve of Dale Wolf’s business antics.

Ana Martin had been cleaning residences at The Nest for the past eight months. She spent three nights a week in Kay’s condo. The rest of the week she shared a room somewhere downtown where she worked as a kitchen helper in an Asian restaurant. Every Thursday evening