Chapter 17

Wednesday morning the doors of the hotel lobby slid open and Mr. Gaulter, the heavyset hotel manager, ambled through. He waddled past the lobby's fountain with its water jets of changing colors and up to the front desk clerk where he was told of Rosita's attack. It was the last thing Gaulter wanted to hear on this bright, sunny morning. He stormed into his office, his puffy face turning an unhealthy shade of red. He shut the door, staggered to his polished wooden desk, and plopped in his rolling chair. The chair creaked under his great weight.

Cradling his head in his hands, he let out a low moan. What was happening at his hotel? This was twice in three days an ambulance had come to the Aloha Hilton. And not for minor injuries. For God's sakes, two women had been viciously attacked in his hotel. One was dead, the other lay in a coma.

No matter how you cut it, this didn't bode well for business, to say nothing of his blood pressure. The only redeeming feature Gaulter could find was the fact that most guests didn't have a clue about the attacks since the medics had used the service elevators, but that was a small consolation in his mind.

And what were the police and those detectives doing about these attacks? Nothing as far as Gaulter could tell. Nothing at all.

The phone rang and he jumped. Geesh, he was wound tight today.

A few minutes later he sat puzzling over the call. It had been Detective Lau reporting that Rosita was still in ICU and under heavy guard. She needed a guard? That couldn't be good, Gaulter thought as he took a handkerchief from his lapel and wiped his damp forehead. What puzzled him even more were Lau's instructions to spread the word that Rosita was alive and well.

Huh? The police wanted the killer to know he hadn't done a very good job? That he didn't kill Rosita? If that was indeed what he'd intended.

What in heaven's name were the police thinking, gambling with Rosita's life like that? Using her as bait for some deranged psychopath?

Gaulter didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit. He needed to think. What could he do to protect his hotel? He sat bolt upright. Where in blue blazes was Butch? Butch had been in the military, the Marines. He knew how to handle these types of situations – attacks, ambushes, predator against prey.

Oh yeah, Gaulter realized and slumped back in his chair. The desk clerk had said Butch had been at the hospital until two last night and planned on heading back there first thing this morning. Dammit. Butch should be coming here, to the hotel, not to the hospital. This was where Butch was needed. Rosita had a guard posted outside her room. What did the hotel have? A bunch of know-nothing guards that couldn't find their way out of a paper bag. They were completely worthless without a leader.

Gaulter reached for the phone. He had to call Butch. His right-hand man was supposed to be here – on the job – and now.

# # # #

Nancy rubbed her eyes, rolled over, and glanced at the bedside clock. 7:55am. She and Frank had made plans for a morning run if they woke early enough. Nancy deemed 7:55 early enough and tossed back the bedsheets.

Everyone had agreed on meeting at 10:30 for breakfast in the Sunrise Café. That gave Nancy plenty of time for a run and a shower before breakfast.

She got out of bed quietly, so as not to disturb Bess, and did a few quick stretches. Stretches were a nice way to loosen up, but her body craved vigorous exercise. At home she usually ran four days a week. She hadn't run once since arriving in Hawaii and her body missed the routine.

She did some toe-touches and then scooped her running clothes off the dresser where she'd left them last night in anticipation of a morning workout. A good brisk run on the beach was just what she needed to get her heart pumping, the blood flowing, and her mind working. If time permitted, she'd hit the weight room, too.

She wriggled out of her pajamas, grabbed her cell phone, and phoned Frank.

# # # #

At 10:30 on the dot, a freshly showered and shaved, Frank arrived at the Sunrise Café. He was hungry and invigorated. The run on the beach with Nancy had put him in a good mood. Like Nancy, running was part of his weekly routine. The fact they'd managed to spend half-an-hour in the weight room, made Frank's day that much better. He'd sorely missed his weekly workout sessions and had wisely played it smart by sticking to equipment he knew or had in his home gym. Years ago he'd learned the hard way not to overdo or try something new in hotels. You could strain a muscle, or worse, and working a case was no time to come up lame.

The Café's menu was posted on a golden pedestal outside the entrance so he perused it while he waited for Nancy. He'd worked his way through the breakfast combos when she came up behind him.

Brushing past his shoulder, she asked, "Waiting for someone?"

She'd noticed his choice of casual attire – denim shorts, tennis shoes, and t-shirt. Knowing how meticulous Frank was about everything, even his clothes, she would swear he'd ironed the shorts and t-shirt. Not that there was anything wrong with that. And there certainly wasn't anything wrong with the way his t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and chest.

"Not anymore," he said and his gaze followed the plunge of Nancy's dark green wrap top. Her hair was the way he liked it, long and loose, spilling over her bare shoulders.

Arm in arm they followed the hostess, a short Hawaiian woman with long dark hair that hung to her hips.

Frank and Nancy watched the hostess' hair swish from side to side as she lead them through the café. She weaved around planter topped half-walls that separated booths. Most of the plants were fake. Their main purpose being to prove privacy.

Once they were seated and had menus in hand, Frank asked, "Where's Bess?"

"Fussing with her hair," Nancy said with a hint of a smile. "I told her it looked fine. Didn't matter. She wasn't happy. I offered some suggestions and tried helping. None of which actually helped, I'm sorry to say. Finally, I decided it was best to leave her in peace to work it out alone."

"Been there, done that a few times with Joe. Umm, not about hair, other things. Strangely, he never takes my advice or help either."

Frank and Nancy chuckled.

A waitress appeared with a pitcher of coffee and filled Frank and Nancy's cups. They weren't quite ready to order they told the waitress. They were waiting for friends. The waitress promised to return in a few minutes.

Frank stirred cream and sugar into his coffee. "Walter e-mailed me this morning. Gotta hand it to him, he never ceases to amaze me. He may be old, but he's good. He sent a ton of information on Gwen Airedale and Diana Collins. He must've been up the half the night putting all the data together. It's way too much for one person to read. I was thinking each of us could take a file and go through it. We can compare notes as we read."

"Sounds like an excellent and efficient plan." Nancy blew on her steaming brew then carefully sipped.

Frank frowned as he peered at Nancy over the rim of his cup. "We need to print everything out first."

"The hotel has a computer room. Maybe it has a printer, too," Nancy said.

"Already checked. Plenty of computers. No printer though."

"Hmm, we could ask Mr. Gaulter, the hotel manager, if he'd let us use his office printer. He knows we're working with the police on the case and this does involve the case."

"Maybe he would." Frank nodded. "We'll track him down right after breakfast."

"Speaking of tracking people down, where's Joe? I can't believe he's late for breakfast." Nancy didn't even try to suppress a grin.

"Already had breakfast and is out working the case."

"What?" Nancy's brows shot up.

"Yeah, I know. Wonder of wonders. Joe's headed to the hospital to check on Rosita. After that, he and Detectives Lau and Kim are going to Rosita's apartment to search for evidence."

"Wow, I'm impressed. I hope they find something at her apartment, but what could possibly be there? She was attack here, at the hotel."

"Doesn't hurt to check her apartment. They may get lucky. Rosita might've written a note or kept a diary. Maybe she wrote about the creepy hotel guest that borrowed her pass key." Frank shrugged and sipped his coffee.

"I'll keep my fingers crossed." Nancy put action to words and held up a hand with crossed fingers.

"And here's Bess." Frank stood and pulled out a chair for Bess.

# # # #

Nancy, Frank, and Bess enjoyed a relaxed breakfast. The luau was their main topic of conversation. Bess was happy to hear that everyone had had a good time. She would pass the word on to Melinda and Mr. Airedale. She was sure they'd like to know that guests had enjoyed the event.

The conversation was interrupted when Frank's cell phone buzzed. He took the call and when he ended it, he seemed happy. "It's our lucky day, Nan. The hotel manager wants to see us. We can ask him about using a printer when we meet him."

Nancy and Frank said good-bye to Bess and hurried to meet Mr. Gaulter.

Mr. Gaulter's secretary showed them into his lavish office. Mr. Gaulter sat behind a large, wooden desk. He greeted Nancy and Frank and waved them into chairs.

Mr. Gaulter got right to the reason he had called. "I've asked you here because of yesterday's incident. I'm referring to one of my employees, Rosita Sanchez. I heard she was attacked and is in a coma. Her condition is stable but guarded. This is not the kind of news I like to hear. And in that regard, I have to ask, have you made any progress on the case?"

Nancy and Frank exchanged glances. Nancy nodded to Frank indicating he should share whatever information he deemed necessary to relieve poor Mr. Gaulter's stress. Nancy feared the man might have a heart attack given how flush his face was.

Frank told Mr. Gaulter about the massive information he had just received and the fact he needed a printer to print it all out. "It's a lot of paperwork to go through, but I believe the answer to who killed Mrs. Airedale and who attacked Ms. Sanchez, may be in those papers. We just need to print them out and read them."

At the words 'massive information,' Gaulter's eyes had lit up. Without hesitation, he granted the detectives access to the hotel's executive office and its computers and printers.

"Anything you need, anything at all," Mr. Gaulter said, "tell me and you'll have it. I'll put my secretary at your disposal. From this moment on, you and Miss Drew have complete and total access to anything the hotel has to offer that might help you solve this case."

Gaulter rose and shook hands with Frank and Nancy. They thanked him for his help.

# # # #

Nancy and Frank sat at the glass table in Frank's room. Two stacks of freshly printed papers lay on the table between them.

Nancy reached for one of the stacks. "I'll take the Diana Collins' file."

"That leaves me Gwen Hughes Airedale."

Frank took the Gwen's file and the two detectives settled down to reading. Silence prevailed for a while and only the occasional rustle of papers broke the silence.

It wasn't long before Nancy found something. "Frank."

"Hmm?" He lifted his head.

"Didn't you say Gwen once worked for Frazer and Frazer Designs?"

"Yes. Why?"

"So did Diana Collins."

Frank's interest was piqued. "When?"

"From August 1998 to November 2001. When did Gwen work there?"

Frank flipped through his stack of papers and found the page he wanted. He skimmed over the paper until he came to the information he was looking for. "I'd say we found our connection. Gwen worked at Frazer and Frazer from May 2001 to May 2004."

"Pretty big coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

"I would." Frank frowned as he considered this new information. After a thoughtful pause, he asked, "Who else worked there? There's got to be a third person involved in this who's connected to Gwen and Diana."

Nancy brightened. She realized what Frank was thinking. "Whoever the third person is, they're our killer."

"Exactly," Frank said.

"What do we know about our killer?" Nancy said and before Frank could respond, she continued, "We can surmise two things. One, the killer is still at the hotel. And two, he has been here since Sunday."

Frank rubbed his chin. He agreed with Nancy's deductions, but knowing where the killer was didn't bring them any closer to knowing who he was and catching him. Also, the hotel was huge. How were they going to single out the killer?

Frank ran his hands down his face. "The big question is, how are we going to identify the killer? There's literally thousands of guests here. It's like searching for a needle in a haystack. We need to narrow down our list of suspects."

Nancy smiled. "I might have an idea. Let's look at this logically. Both attacks happened on the tenth floor. If our assumption is correct that Rosita lent her pass key to a hotel guest, then in all likelihood the killer's room is on the tenth floor. Rosita wouldn't lend her key to a guest on a different floor. She'd lend it to someone she recognized, someone whose room she'd cleaned."

Frank was impressed. "Brilliant deduction, Miss Drew, and I agreed. The killer has to be a guest on the tenth floor." Frank pushed to his feet. "Didn't Mr. Gaulter say we could have anything we needed to conduct our investigation?"

Nancy nodded. Curiosity flickered in her eyes. "I believe 'complete and total access' were his exact words."

"Then he should be willing to give us a list of all the guests staying on the tenth floor."

Nancy was on her feet now and pointing an index finger. "Actually, we can narrow the list down some more. We only need the names of guests who arrived on Sunday and who are still at the hotel."

"Right again. I'll call Gaulter and see about getting that list." Frank pulled his cell phone from his shorts and called the hotel manager. After a few seconds of conversation, Frank hung up and said, "He'll have the list ready in a few minutes. How 'bout I get the list while you stay here and keep reading."

Nancy stepped forward and kissed Frank on the cheek. "I shall continue the search while you're gone. Hurry back."

Frank kissed Nancy on the lips. "I'll be back as soon as possible. I feel we're onto something."

"Me, too."

# # # #

Gaulter heard the tap on his office door. "Come in," he barked and wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

His secretary entered holding a single sheet of paper. Her not-so-subtle look of disapproval did not escape Gaulter's glare. The fifty-five year old, secretary with pursed lips, handed her boss the requested list of hotel guests.

Gaulter snatched the paper from her hand. "Thanks. Oh, I'm expecting those detectives, you know, Mr. Hardy and Miss Drew. Show them in as soon as they arrive."

"Yes, sir." The woman lifted her chin and pulled the door shut behind her. She'd made up her mind it was better to remain in the dark as to what Gaulter intended to do with that list of hotel guests. Of course, she had her suspicions, but they would remain just that .. suspicions.

Gaulter sank into his chair and eyed the paper. Giving Frank and Nancy a list of hotel guests was a huge breach of privacy, but Gaulter was willing to overlook the breach if it helped catch a killer. He rationalized his decision with the old adage, "desperate times called for desperate measures."

# # # #

Joe pulled on the latex gloves Detective Kim had handed him. He and Kim stood beside Detective Lau outside Rosita Sanchez's first-floor efficiency apartment. Lau had gotten a key from the landlord and now inserted it in the door.

Joe had met up with Lau and Kim after checking on Rosita at the hospital. The young woman was still in a coma, but her vital signs had improved. It hadn't surprised Joe to find Butch at the hospital. The guard's concern for Rosita touched Joe deeply. If anyone were to ask, Joe would have to say the big guy had a soft spot for the dark-haired Rosita.

Lau opened the door and stepped inside. Kim and Joe followed. The three men stood just inside the door. They were in the living room combination kitchen and dining room.

Lau issued orders, "Kim, you take the bedroom and bathroom. Joe and I will search this room and the kitchen."

Kim disappeared into the small bedroom.

"I'll search the living room," Joe offered and Lau nodded consent.

Joe could hear Kim opening drawers in the bedroom. Joe surveyed the living room. Not much to search as there were few furnishings. A worn loveseat was pushed up against one wall. A soft blue blanket was sprawled over the arm. Joe imagined Rosita sitting on the loveseat, blanket wrapped around her, watching TV.

His search of the loveseat and cushions revealed nothing. He turned to the coffee table where three envelopes lay open. He picked them up and looked through them. Nothing of interest, all bills. Across from the loveseat was a small TV on a cabinet stand. Joe searched inside the cabinet. Nothing of interest here either, just some DVDs.

Joe spied two framed photos on an end table. Joe picked one up. A smiling Rosita sat with an arm affectionately wrapped around an older woman. Joe guessed the older woman to be Rosita's mother. The other photo showed Rosita with the same woman and two younger women. Sisters? Joe saw a family resemblance in the women's high cheek bones and large, dark eyes. Joe returned the photo to the end table and wondered if Rosita's next of kin had been notified of her attack.

"What do you make of this?" Lau asked from the kitchen. He was pointing at something on the counter.

Joe joined Lau and saw what the police detective found interesting.

"It's your card," Joe said.

"Does the fact it's here on the kitchen counter means something? Did Ms. Sanchez plan on calling me? If so, that would confirm my suspicion that she knew something about the killer."

Joe peered at the card and his dark blond brows knotted. "Umm, what about the fifty dollar bill lying next to it?"

"Huh?"

"Why would she leave a fifty dollar bill on the counter? This isn't the most secure apartment. She's on the first floor with a flimsy lock on the door. Anyone could easily break in. Most people, especially people living alone, usually keep their money on them, not laying out in the open on a kitchen counter. And," Joe jerked a thumb at the window over the sink, "anyone walking by this window could peek in and see the money."

Joe bent for a closer look. He placed his gloved hands on the counter. "It strikes me as odd that it's right next to your card. I wonder if that's significant. It's almost as if she meant for them to be together." Joe frowned and shook his head. "That probably sounds crazy and I'm probably jumping to wild conclusions, but that's the way it looks to me."

"There could be a hundred reasons the two items are together and none of the reasons probably have a thing to do with our investigation," Lau said, but he was frowning, too. "I like to consider all possibilities. In this case, Ms. Sanchez might simply have planned to go grocery shopping after work and left the money out and ready. My card's here as a reminder to call me if she remembers something important."

"If she was going shopping after work wouldn't she have taken the money with her?" Joe countered. "That would save her time. Most people go shopping straight from work. They don't come home first and then go back out. At least, that's the way I do it."

Lau lifted his chin. "Or she could've had plans to meet friends for dinner and that's what the money was for."

Joe shrugged. "Could be. But no matter how I look at it, the money laying out in the open strikes me as odd."

"Me, too." Lau withdrew a small zip-lock baggie from his jacket pocket and shook it open. "So, until Ms. Sanchez wakes up and can tell us why she left the money on the counter, it and my card will be in police custody." With gloved hands, he picked up the card and money, and dropped them in a Ziploc baggie. He zipped the baggie and with a black marker, wrote the date on the bag.

# # # #

Frank returned with the list of hotel guests. He was on his cell phone when he entered the room. He handed the list to Nancy and ended his call.

"That was Walter. He contacted Frazer and Frazer this morning. He's sending us more information and photos of Diana Collins."

"Great." Nancy laid the list on the glass table and studied it.

Frank went to the room safe and retrieved his computer.

"Well, well, well," Nancy said. "We know most of the suspects. Lance Airedale of course, the Mansvilles, the Jameses, the Westins, and Melinda Smith."

"Joe's been suspicious of her from day one," Frank said. He hooked up his laptop and waited for the internet connection.

"I know." Nancy's brow wrinkled and her lips twisted. "Who are Andre Cullen, Louis Romo, and Jules Greggory?"

"Don't know. We could ask Bess. If they're involved with the fashion show she probably knows them. She was pointing everybody out at the luau last night."

"I'll give her a call."

A few minutes later, Nancy relayed the information she'd gotten from Bess. "One's a runway consultant. The other two are fabric coordinators."

Frank sat at the table in front of his computer and groaned. He still couldn't believe fabric coordinator was a real job.

Disdain laced his voice. "Now, I remember. They were the stuck-up bunch that kept to themselves. Too good to mingle with the masses. Can't imagine any of them committing murder. They wouldn't want to get their hands dirty."

"Are you suggesting we concentrate on the wives, their husbands and Melinda Smith?"

"At least for now. All the husbands seem a little shady to me."

"You know, Frank," Nancy sounded very practical, "we really don't know anything about any of these people. Only what they tell us and that could be a pack of lies."

"It probably is a pack of lies. I could have Walter do background checks on all of them." Frank sank back in his chair. He looked thoroughly defeated. "We're talking seven people. That many background checks will take a long time to complete. We don't have that kind of time. The fashion show is in two days and my instincts tell me that when the show's over, the killer will split. If he hasn't already."

Nancy rested an elbow on the table. "Don't start doubting yourself or our theories. The killer is still here. Remember Rosita? She's a loose end that needs to be tied up. The killer's not leaving until she's taken care of."

Frank blew out a breath. "You're right. Still, time's running out. We need to narrow down the list of suspects."

They sat in silence. Both thinking. Nancy tapping her chin. Frank frowning.

Nancy broke the silence. "We need to tell Detective Lau about Gwen and Diana working at Frazer and Frazer during the same time period. Maybe we could persuade the police to handle the background checks. They have the manpower and could complete the checks in a day or so."

"And how long will we have to wait for them to share the information with us?"

Nancy lifted a shoulder and shook her head.

Frank rubbed a hand over his chin. "We will contact Lau and give him this information. I have no problem with that. My problem is, I don't think the police could do the background checks any faster than Walter and the Hardy Detective Agency. Background checks are one of the things the agency's good at, really good at. We pride ourselves on that. We'll stick with having the Hardy Agency do the checks for us. The police will do their own background checks, I'm sure. With Walter working on this, I know he'll call me the minute he finds anything."

Frank stood and paced the room. He ran a hand through his hair as he mulled over thoughts and ideas. "I want another way .. There has to be a way .."

Nancy studied the list of hotel guests as Frank paced and mumbled. Best to let him think in peace and quiet, she figured.

Suddenly, Frank snapped his fingers. "What we need is a ruse. A ruse to lure the killer out into the open."

Nancy wasn't sure she liked the idea of a ruse and she hadn't even heard what it was yet. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

Frank placed his hands on the table and smiled. "Nan, you and I are going fishing." His dark brows bounced up and down mischievously.

Nancy folded her arms and glared at Frank. She did not look amused. Fishing indeed!

Frank spent the next twenty minutes laying out his plan. When he finished Nancy wasn't sure she liked the plan any better now that she'd heard it. She grudgingly admitted it would be faster than waiting for background checks. The plan offered the best shot at getting the killer to unwittingly reveal his identity. However, the plan could very well backfire and send the killer after them.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Glad y'all liked the beach scene. That was fun to write .. all those years ago. I'm a hopeless romantic. :)