Page 4 of Devil's Deal

“Cory,there’s a problem in Subtle Indulgence.”

“Applesauce,” I said into the phone, dreading his next words based on the rash of room intrusions we’d had recently.

“I know. I knew you’d react this way.” Harlow, one of my front desk agents, knew me well enough to know that applesauce was a big ol’ darn with a sprinkle of frickity-frack on top. “Mr. Winchester called, and I heard his wife having a fit in the background. She’s convinced that someone went through their things.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll head on up there.”

I’d been walking around, checking in on the various rooms in my forty-five-room boutique hotel and making sure all the guests were satisfied. It figured there was another issue. I might as well have stayed in my office and waited for it to come find me. Since I didn’t want to make them wait, I got on the glass elevator.

The older gentleman I’d hired to run it during the day smiled as I stopped in. “I need to go to Subtle Indulgence, please. How are you doing, Everest?” I asked.

“I’m good, Mr. Letterman. How are you doing on this fine day?” No matter what I said, I couldn’t get him to call me Cory like the rest of the staff did.

I shrugged.

He patted my shoulder. “You’ll work it out, whatever it is. You’ve done a really fine job with the hotel. Real fine.”

“Thank you.” We arrived at the third floor, and I went to step out when I stopped and said, “I really appreciate you.”

A smile spread across the Black man’s face, wrinkling the character lines even more. He nodded his head. “And I appreciate you, sir. For giving me a chance.”

As I headed down the hall to the Subtle Indulgence suite, I thought what a shame it was how thankful he felt for the job I’d given him. Sure, he was in his seventies, but he was still sharp as a tack and friendly. He used up a lot of his Social Security to support his wife and pay for the additional expenses for her medical care. It didn’t leave them enough to live on.

When he’d come in for a job, what I saw was a broken man who didn’t expect to be hired because so many businesses had already rejected him based on his age. But my husband, God rest his soul, hadn’t been too much younger than Everest then, and he’d had plenty of life left in him until he was taken from me. Hiring Everest had been a no-brainer.

Smoothing down my waistcoat, I knocked on the door. The man who answered, Mr. Winchester, breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much for coming. My wife’s a little?—”

“Get in here. I want to see him right now.”

The man’s face tightened. “As you can hear, she’s a little concerned.”

He gestured for me to come in, so I passed him and found his wife standing in front of the king-sized bed with her suitcase opened on top, throwing clothes into it from the dresser. “Mrs. Winchester…” I started.

She whirled on me, hands going to her hips. “Are you the manager?”

“The owner, actually.”

“As you can see, someone went through our room.”

Since she was mid-packing, I couldn’t see that at all, but I’d never argue with a guest. “Is anything missing?” I asked, pushing the appropriate measure of concern into my tone without revealing my own anxiety.

“No, not that I can find, but that doesn’t matter,” she shrieked. “They touched our stuff. We’ve stayed here before and never had an issue, and now this. What are you going to do about it?”

Keeping my voice low and calm, I said, “Mrs. Winchester, if you?—”

“No. We’re checking out now, and I want a full refund. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Ma’am, I can assure you…” I trailed off as her husband gave me a small shake of his head. Okay, then. Apparently, there’d be no reasoning with her. “You’re sure nothing was taken?”

“No, I’m not positive, but I’m very neat and organized. The drawers were a shambles. Socks and underwear mixed, and shirts unfolded. I’d never leave it like that.”

“And the safe? Did you use your room safe?” Please, please, please let their safe have been untouched.

“Yes, we did,” Mr. Winchester said. “And all our valuables were still in there. Honey, are you sure?—”

She was understandably upset and cut her husband off again. “Of course, I’m sure. I put everything away like I always do.” She glared at me. “We used the salon services this afternoon, and when we came back to the room to change and get ready for dinner, our drawers had been rifled through. I know. I never leave things out of place like that.”

“Ma’am, of course, I believe you.”

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