Really Dead, Page 25

  Brandon followed him into the room, pulled Glenn’s backpack out of the closet and dropped it on the bed.

  “Mind driving me to the airport?”

  “Can we take the MG?”

  “Okay,” Glenn opened the top drawer of his dresser, grabbed a stack of boxers, and threw them on the bed. “We have to make one stop on the way, at the salon across the street from the Crystal Hotel.”

  “Who are you and what have you done to my dad?”

  “What?” Glenn laughed.

  “You don’t do salons. If you tell me you want a mani-pedi, I’m taking you straight to the home and locking you up! I’m not ready to deal with pre-senile dementia.”

  Glenn tried to control the giggle that was bubbling up inside him. “Maybe I want a Brazilian wax?”

  “You can stop talking now.”

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  Glenn was waiting outside the doors of the salon when a white-coated technician unlocked them. She didn’t recognize the man in the picture of Ted that Glenn had printed out, but with the help of the receptionist she found what services Ted Robarts’ credit card had paid for on March nineteenth. He’d paid for a mani-pedi, a massage, and a cut and colour. (No Brazilian.) While the technician went to check the colour file of the person who’d received those services Glenn watched Brandon drive by three times as he circled the block.

  “He went brown, dark brown.” The technician walked out of the backroom holding an index card in her hand. “Looking at this formula, he must have been a blonde to start off with.”

  “He?”

  She looked at the card again. “Definitely a he.”

  Glenn profusely thanked the girls who had helped him and promised, again, to recommend their salon to Ariel Downes and Chris Regent when they were in town on the press junket for the movie they were currently making in the British Virgin Islands. He even went so far as to say that movie might be previewed at the Toronto International Film Festival, when lots of stars would be staying in the hotel right across the street and, being a senior producer at Butler Entertainment, he assured them that he’d use his connections to get their salon noticed by the right people.

  It was during the turbulent two-and-a-half-hour flight to Miami that the puzzle pieces in Glenn’s mind started to fit together and take shape. He barely noticed the turbulence.

  He made two phone calls while waiting to make his connection in Miami. The first one was to James — and James picked up. With the arrangements made to get him from Virgin Gorda to Soursop, Glenn made his second call. Dex gave him the receptionist’s name — Holly Stewart, aka friend of Ted/Phil/Jake. Following the detailed instructions Brandon had given him he tried to connect his computer to the airport’s wi-fi. Technology was on his side, but time wasn’t. His flight was called just after he’d entered Phil London’s name into the IMDbPro search box.

  “Well, hello, Phil Lunden!”

  IMDbPro had found several people whose names were similar to Phil London, but Glenn now knew that he had to focus on Phil Lunden. He studied Phil’s IMDbPro photo — he had blonde hair, lots of freckles, and a killer smile. Checking out Holly Stewart and Jake Purcell would have to wait until he was between flights in San Juan.

  The only thing he had time for in San Juan was a full-speed sprint from his arrival gate to the Air Sunshine departure gate.

  James was waiting for him at the airport in Virgin Gorda.

  “You didn’t tell anyone I was coming, right?” Glenn said as he jumped into the front passenger seat of James’ Jeep.

  “No one except Malvin. He’s going to take you over to Soursop.”

  The sun was setting but there was still enough light left for Glenn to get a look at the island when Malvin circled it for him. Soursop was one nice island.

  The only thing that didn’t seem to fit was the over-sized billboard that was being built on the north end of the island. Had the recession actually touched the Butler’s to the point where they had to sell advertising space? As the boat rounded the northern point Glenn saw the front of the billboard and realized how wrong he’d been. It wasn’t an ad. From the other side it looked like the front of a large plantation from the southern States, painted white with wide steps leading down from the veranda to what looked like a front lawn that went to the very edge of a cliff. It even had shutters beside the windows that had been cut out along the front of the fake building. Glenn was reminded of the movie sets he’d seen in the lakeshore studios in Toronto when he’d been investigating the death of a security guard on a movie shoot a few years earlier. From the front they looked like real houses. It was only when you walked behind them that you saw how fake they were.

  I spent the day wishing Glenn was on the island with me. And pacing. And swimming. And picking up the phone to see if there was a dial tone. I walked to the hotel (to burn off more frustration) and sent him an email, but I had no idea if it actually went anywhere.

  Chris and I had lunch together, but I barely heard a word he said. (And he used so many, many words!) The only words I paid attention to were: “I put those discs back like you asked me to.”

  It was while I was walking back to my villa that Rob and his crew pulled up beside me on the road.

  “Want some company?” he asked as he slid off the back bench of the cart. “We just finished our shift.”

  “Okay.”

  Rob slipped his hand into mine as we walked down the pathway to beach. “So …” Rob seemed reluctant to finish his thought. “Maybe I’ve been reading your signals wrong, but I don’t think I have. Ria?”

  Uh-oh. It was moment of truth time, I could feel it coming. “Yes?” We’d danced around our mutual attraction for years, but we’d never had to really address it. Each time our lives had crossed paths one or the other of us had been married. This wasn’t a hypothetical situation, something I could daydream about in an adolescent way, it was really happening. I had motive (he was incredibly sexy), I had opportunity (we were in the same place, at the same time) … but did I have the intent? If I said yes to Rob, I’d be saying no to Glenn.

  “Once this whole Kate thing is all figured out, how would you feel about coming with me to St. Thomas for a couple of days? I’ve got two days off and …”

  “Rob,” I stopped him, “I’m seeing someone.” It was the truth, sort of. I was in an undefined relationship that I hoped to define once Glenn and I were able to talk for longer than ten minutes without worrying about losing our connection.

  “I know, James told me, but the guy’s not here and we are. He wouldn’t have to know.”

  Adolescent girls were attracted to bad boys. Given my track record (especially including my divorce), I too had a habit of finding them irresistible. When Glenn had talked about his white-collar criminal he’d said he was a grown-ass man who’d acted like a child. It was time for me to act like what I was — a grown-ass woman. “I’d know.”

  “Yeah, but …”

  “It’s not going to happen, Rob. Not now.” I didn’t put a time limit on that negative response.

  “Got it.” Rob looked around, as if he was looking for somewhere else to be.

  Thankfully, Bear chose that moment to come trotting down a pathway from the road. “Hi, kids. How’s it going?”

  Neither one of us answered.

  “I just heard some juicy gossip.” Bear broke the silence, perhaps sensing the unspoken tension.

  “Do tell.” Rob sounded interested.

  “Mandy’s moved out of James’ place and into Dan’s.”

  “Good,” I said out loud by mistake.

  “I thought you’d like that.” Bear smiled at me just as the radio on his belt crackled to life.

  “Bear? You there?” a male voice asked.

  “Bear here.”

  “We, ah, we have a little problem with Gary’s camera.”

  “What kind of problem?” Bear’s eyes closed to slits.

  “He kind of lost it.”

  “Well, tell him
to look for it. We’re on an island, for Christ’s sake. It didn’t swim away.”

  “Actually, it sort of did. He was getting scenic shots from the speedboats and he got artsy, leaning over the side to get an angle on the waves. They hit a big wave.” The man stopped talking.

  “And?”

  “And he lost his grip on the camera.”

  “I’m near the front dock. Bring him in there.” Bear pushed a button on his radio and stuck it back on his belt. “I am surrounded by imbeciles! Can you believe it? He dropped a camera! In the ocean! Rule number one in cameraman school — don’t ever drop the damn thing.”

  We heard the speedboat before we saw it. It rounded the northern tip of the island and flew past us, bouncing over the waves as it headed for the main dock south of us. Bear picked up the pace, and we matched his steps.

  “Maybe I’ll just kill Gary and toss his corpse out into the water to hide the evidence? Wow, did I just say that? Sorry. Call me insensitive. I’m pissed off. See ya.” Bear broke into a run, leaving us behind.

  “Well, I should get going. I have to white balance some cameras.”

  Maybe Rob really did have to do something with the cameras, or maybe he was just making an excuse to leave the painfully awkward situation — I’d never know. “Okay. See you later.”

  He sounded angry when he said “Sure” before turning and walking in the other direction.

  I kept on walking toward the main dock. I could hear Bear screaming at someone and saw his little arms flailing around as he made his point. Bear’s yelling was drowned out by the sound of a powerful boat motor. Like the speedboat before it, it came around the northern tip of the island and as it passed me I saw that it was the Butler B boat.

  It gave me an idea, something to do. I could go over to James’ villa and use his phone to call Glenn. With a burst of renewed energy and purpose, I jogged to the main dock.

  Bear had his back to me as I walked down the dock. He was holding up a single digit salute as the speedboat pulled away from the dock and had just lowered it when the Butler B yacht arrived. “Good God, Gulliver’s come to the island.” Bear was staring at the Butler B yacht.

  “Who?” I looked at the boat and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Glenn was standing on the stern deck, holding a rope, ready to jump onto the dock once the boat was close enough. “Glenn.”

  “No, Gulliver,” Bear corrected me. “Look at the size of him! I’m going to feel positively Lilliputian standing next to him.”

  “He’s not that tall, he’s only six-four and a bit. And his name’s Glenn.”

  The big smile that spread across Ria’s face was exactly the welcome Glenn had been hoping for. He leapt off the boat a little too early and almost ended up in the water, but managed to land on the dock without looking like too much of a spazz. The little guy standing with Ria had to be the one they called Bear, but they really should have called him Cub. Malvin took the rope from him and he started to walk toward Ria, who hadn’t moved a muscle in either her body or her face. “Did you know that your phone’s not working?”

  Her smile turned into a laugh. “I had noticed that actually, but thanks for dropping by to tell me.”

  “No problem.” He stood in front of her, not sure if he should hug her. “Mind if I stay for a bit?”

  She made the hug decision by reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck (after he bent down enough for her to reach it). Glenn hugged her back, hard, picking her up off the dock.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Me too.” He put her down and smiled at her little friend. “You must be Bear. I’m Glenn.”

  “So I’ve been told, but I’m thinking there’s more to this story than I’ve heard. That was quite the hug.” They shook hands. “And I’d love to hear the rest of it now, but —”

  “Bear?” A woman’s voice came out of the radio on his belt.

  Bear put the radio to his mouth as he was walking away. “Please tell me you’re calling with good news?”

  “Not exactly,” the woman started.

  “So? Should I check-in or something?” Glenn hoped she’d say no.

  “I guess so. They didn’t make me check-in, but they knew I was coming. Grab your bags and I’ll take you to the front desk.”

  He smiled. “I’ve already got my bags. All of them.” He slid the backpack off the shoulder it had been hanging from.

  “No way! I’m so proud of you.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. The truth is Brandon did the packing.”

  The lobby of the hotel was a beehive of activity, people carrying movie equipment, people pushing racks of clothing around (most of them held what looked like fancy ball gowns to Glenn), even the guy behind the front desk was involved in the production somehow — a makeup person was dabbing his face with a little sponge. It wasn’t until they were right at the desk that Glenn realized he was looking at Ted Robarts, a.k.a. Phil Lunden. Man, how he wanted to get Ria alone to tell her what he’d learned (and for a few other reasons that would hopefully come to fruition).

  “Hi, Ria,” the makeup girl said once she’d finished touching up Ted’s face. “Here,” she bent over, took a small glass jar out of her toolbox-sized makeup kit, and handed it to Ria. “This is the stuff I was telling you about. Try it. It does a great job covering freckles.”

  Glenn liked Ria’s freckles. He liked them a lot. Especially the ones on her chest. If she covered them up he wouldn’t get to play connect the dots again.

  “Thanks.” Ria took the jar. “Ted, this is a friend of mine from Toronto. He’s going to be staying here. Do you need him to check-in?”

  Ted ran a hand over his head to smooth his hair and smiled the fakest smile Glenn had ever seen. “Any friend of yours, as they say.” He turned to either face the camera that was shooting him or get into position to put his hands on the keyboard that was sitting on the counter in front of him. “I’ll need your name, sir, and home address.”

  Glenn gave Ted his address first, he wanted to save the best for last. If Ted was a newspaper reader the chances were that he’d recognize Glenn’s name and maybe, just maybe, he’d feel a little uncomfortable. Watching people’s reactions when they found out who Glenn was often told him a lot. “The name’s Cooper, Glenn Cooper.”

  Ted’s fingers froze over the keyboard for less than a second. “That’s Glenn with two ns?”

  “That’s right.” Bingo. Ted knew exactly who Glenn was.

  “Would you prefer a room in the main building or perhaps one of the suites in the beachfront …”

  “He’ll be staying with me,” Ria cut-in.

  Jackpot!

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  Driving the golf cart was a blast. The bigger tires gave it great traction. Everything was bigger and better at a Butler Hotel — especially Ria’s villa. Glenn felt as if he should have dressed better to fit in with the luxury surroundings. He left his backpack in the front hall, not sure of where it would end up spending the night.

  They sat at the table on the patio by the pool and compared notes — Ria bringing him up to speed on what she’d learned and Glenn doing the same in return, neither one of them venturing into the minefield of a discussion about the current state of their relationship.

  “I get that he’s an actor, and that makes a lot of sense from what I’ve seen, but I still don’t understand where the CSIS agent bit comes in. Do you?” She asked him.

  “Not yet. I did a quick search on the name Jake Purcell before I left, but I didn’t find anything.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t if he’s really a secret agent.”

  “He’s not a spy, he’s an actor with a career that was going nowhere who saw a chance to play the role of a lifetime and he went for it, including stealing the real Ted Robarts’ identity. That reminds me, are your phones working yet?”

  “They weren’t the last time I checked.”

  Glenn stood up and walked to
the patio bar. There was a base for a cordless phone, but no handset. “Where’s your phone?”

  “Down there,” Ria pointed at the pool.

  “Interesting place to keep it. Should I ask why?”

  Ria shook her head. “There’s another one in the living room. Who are you going to call?”

  “If your phones are working it means we can get Internet access.” He found the cordless phone in the living room and took the handset out onto the patio. It was a waste of energy, though. There was no dial tone.

  “You know what bothers me?”

  “The unreliable phone service down here?” Glenn put the useless phone down on the table.

  “Why did Winnie do all that stuff? She stole Ted’s shoes, left his footprints in the sand, and left the foot where it would be found. Maybe she’s trying to frame Ted? Maybe she’s really the killer?”

  “But you saw that video, you said she didn’t —”

  “What if it was edited? To make it look like Winnie couldn’t have done it?”

  Ria’s theory didn’t sit right with Glenn. “I can see where you’re coming from, except for one thing — why? Why would Winnie kill Kate? You said they were friendly with each other.”

  “To protect Dan. We know Kate had something on him …”

  “But Ted’s the one pulling the scam, we know that now. My bet is that Kate recognized him and figured out what he was up to. She was a TV addict, you should see her place. She even had a poster for his show on her wall.”

  “But our Ted is almost thirty years older than Phil Lunden, and he’s dyed his hair. You really think she could have recognized him? You didn’t recognize him and you and James used to watch that show all the time.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think like her. I’m not star crazy. And it fits. The whole premise of this show is respectable professionals who make complete asses of themselves as they compete for the chance to manage a real luxury hotel, right? A fake contestant would turn the whole thing into a joke before it even got broadcast. Ted wanted his second shot at stardom and if the show got killed he wouldn’t get the chance to be famous again. When Dan fluffed Kate off she went to Ted and threatened to expose him.”