"Keats, just because the pen matches the chest wounds on the victim doesn't mean that Esteban is the murderer. Hundreds of pens were issued in that special design. The only thing we can do is get a listing of everyone who owns one." Ryan said, after Keats had explained the entire ordeal.
"But if Esteban is the Ladykiller, then it'll be too late for Sloane…wait a second…" Keats stopped abruptly, her expression slowly changing. Ryan remembered the face because she wore it so well and so frequently.
"What? Keats, what are you scheming?" He asked, hiding a smile.
"Well, if I can distract Sloane somehow, then I can pretend to be her long enough to find out if Esteban is the murderer!" Keats exclaimed, her excitement rising.
"C'mon, Keats, Esteban wouldn't believe the switch for a second. For one thing your hair is undeniably red. You told me hers had been dyed blond."
"Wigs can be little miracles in themselves if you're lucky enough to have a good one put on the right way." Keats argued. Ryan shook his head.
"The personality, the mannerisms, the tone of voice…are you telling me that you can fake all that?" He asked skeptically. Keats nodded proudly.
"My sister and I use to play that game all the time with Mom and Dad. We had everyone fooled. Trust me." But how do I get Sloane out of harm's way?
"A wedding shower? Keats, you didn't have to do that." Sloane gasped at the suddenness of it all. Keats shrugged and guided her into the Corsica, taking her to the Lab for the impromptu shower.
"That's what Maid-of-Honors are for, right?" She replied sunnily.
She walked into the Miami Dade Police Department feeling a bit remorseful for lying to her sister, even though she had the best of intentions. Sloane followed a few steps behind, taking in her surroundings.
"What an odd place for a party…" She murmured to herself. Keats took her into the Lab, wherein she found Ryan, Calleigh, and Eric examining her progress from the previous night.
"Sloane, these are my superiors slash colleagues: Calleigh Duquesne, Eric Delko, and Ryan Wolfe." Sloane shook hands with everyone, smiling widely.
"Guys, this is my sister Sloane." Keats placed her arm around Sloane, putting her in a loose choke-hold. Sloane's eyes began to roam from Ryan to Delko, then back to Ryan again. She knew that one of them was her twin's lover. She giggled at the thought of Keats doing normal girlish things like…falling in love.
"Which one of you is my baby sister's mentor?" Sloane asked, the last bit of the question muffled by her sister's hand. Keats' look of pure venom told Sloane to shut up.
"I'm her mentor." Ryan said, vaguely confused by their response.
"Not bad…" Sloane let her eyes travel up and down the length of Ryan Wolfe until Keats was as red as a tomato.
"Sloane…um, Calleigh is going to show you where the party is, and I'll be there a little later. I forgot the pink champagne!" Keats said with a modest chuckle. Calleigh gave Delko a knowing look and led Sloane to one of the empty interrogation rooms.
"I really don't think you should do this…" Ryan said, as soon as they were alone. Keats gave him a frown that perfectly characterized her stubbornness.
"If Esteban is really the ladykiller, then this is the best opportunity we have to prove it. If I get in trouble, I'll give you a ring…" She said, grabbing a bag with the contents of her disguise.
"Listen, Keats, you're not going anywhere near Esteban without me." Ryan replied edgily. Keats felt a sudden knot in her stomach and she wondered what kind of life she had maintained without Ryan Wolfe.
"This is a monumental risk you're taking, June. For a multitude of reasons. But I'm trusting you because you've been right so far. Keep the streak going…and another thing, ask for help if you need it. Don't be a hero." Horatio told her before she left. Ryan drove her to the hotel in his silver hummer.
"I want a hummer…" Keats said mournfully.
"You'll get one soon enough, I guess." He said, parking the hummer near the hotel entrance. They headed toward the nearest restroom so that Keats' could pull off her 'amazing transformation', as Ryan put it.
"Sometimes I wonder how my sister can stand wearing high heels and tiny dresses all the time." Keats mumbled as Ryan pulled the zipper on her gown. She turned to look at him, feeling very awkward in clothes that definitely didn't suit her.
Ryan's roving gaze brought a touch of crimson to her cheeks, so she began tugging at the hem self-consciously. She began tying her hair back and fit the wig to her head, fluffing it out in most of the right places.
"Where did you find that thing? It looks incredibly authentic." Ryan felt around and adjusted the wig, seemingly more astonished with every passing second. Keats wrestled with the strap-on heels and stood upright, balancing herself on the bathroom sink.
"She's definitely a masochist…why would people subject themselves to the torture of walking on a toothpick?" Keats muttered, flailing her arms in an effort to keep her poise.
"Ah…you know, I might just go barefoot and pretend I'm trying to seduce him." She said as she hopped out of the shoes. Ryan's lips tightened.
"Don't make this any more complex than it has to be." He said grimly.
Keats fooled one of the maids into letting her into Sloane's room and she sat on the bed wondering how long she'd have to wait for Esteban. The plan was for Keats to lure him to the pool. Ryan would be there sitting at a table with his gun close by in case something hazardous were to take place.
And then Keats would proceed to ask him strategic questions, possibly saving a glass he had used for lab analysis, or something of the like. It was a good plan in theory, but Keats worried that the follow-through would be less than lucrative.
She heard a knock at the door and leapt in fright. She shook her head dizzily and made herself answer the door in true Sloane fashion.
"Who's there?" Keats asked in a sing-song voice. A low laugh could be heard from the other side.
"It's me, querida…" Esteban waltzed through the door and took her in his arms, whirling her around until she felt rather lightheaded.
"Mmm, I missed you! I've been waiting for you so we could go take a swim in the pool together." Keats said, nuzzling into him.
"Sure. Anything for you." Esteban waited as she grabbed her bags and the two of them walked hand in hand toward the hotel's outdoor pool.
Keats shed her dress warily, trying to muster up some false bravado. Buck up, Keats. Sloane has no qualms about wearing a bikini in public.
She sat by the edge of the pool and broke the surface of the water with her toe. She felt Esteban's eyes on her and she worried that perhaps her acting was not good enough. But when he began rubbing her down rather sensually with sunscreen, she felt satisfied that the ruse was working.
"Baby, I want to send a few presents up to your room. Some of them are from family…the guy who's sending it up needs a key. Can I borrow one to give to him?" She gently bit down on his earlobe to deflect from the obviousness of her question. Sloane uses this technique to get her way all the time…I guess she's the typical femme fatale.
Esteban wordlessly shoved the keycard in her hand, ripping his shirt off and plunging into the pool. Keats recoiled from the splash and Ryan watched her as she slipped by, tossing the keycard on the table. Room 237 was written on it in black permanent marker.
"Check out his room." She whispered. Ryan tapped the card a few times against the tabletop, reluctant to leave Keats unsupervised. Eventually and with great effort, he forced himself to investigate Esteban's hotel room.
Keats returned to the edge of the pool just as Esteban was climbing out of the pool. He leaned down and Keats wondered what he was doing. He hooked his arms under her knees and lifted her effortlessly, his muscles gleaming in the sunlight.
"It's your turn…" Esteban whispered as he dropped her into the pool. Keats plummeted straight to the bottom, inhaling water as she went.