Bad Hair Day 7 - Dead Roots (21 page)

“Butler has been taken into custody for running a smuggling operation, but not for murder,” Vail told the crowd. “Too bad no one can prove anything about the work-related incidents.”

“You said the manager had been boating in illegal aliens that he hid on the thirteenth floor?” Cynthia asked.

“No, he secured them in Oleander Hall,” Marla replied to her cousin. “I gather he was too spooked by the ghosts in Andrew’s domain. Dalton and I took a peek at the speakeasy. There’s a beautiful bar up there. It’ll make a great lounge once the hotel is refurbished.”

“I can’t believe Grandfather was a bootlegger.”

Marla didn’t tell them about the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter emanating from the Prohibition-era hideout. Residual hauntings weren’t harmful, and the creepiness would only add to the resort’s ambience. She’d still like to thoroughly examine the hidden level, but it would be difficult until proper lighting was restored.

“Butler was quite clever,” Vail said. Marla gave him an indulgent smile. The cop in him just couldn’t help commenting on the criminal mind. “He’d learned about the passages from the original blueprints and converted the tunnels to his own use. The manager was involved in more than transporting illegal aliens, however. He’ll also have a charge of human trafficking brought against him.”

“What’s that?” Cynthia asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Letting go of Marla’s hand, Vail hunched his shoulders. ‘Traffickers bring in thousands of people to the States each year, and Florida is one of the top three destinations, thanks to all our waterways. These foreigners are forced to work on farms, in factories and brothels. Runaways and the homeless are potential victims, too. It’s a form of modern-day slave labor.”

“Tell them about debt bondage,” Marla suggested, knowing Vail got his kicks from discussing bad guys.

“Butler’s men were charged one thousand dollars each for transportation. This debt supposedly is deducted from their weekly pay, along with food, housing, and supplies. Meanwhile, they live in substandard dormitories, have no medical care, and no access to the outside. They’re kept under control with guns and physical force. Under these conditions, it takes the workers years to get free.”

“What did Butler do with a continual influx of people, then?” Cynthia persisted. “I know you followed him to some farm, but he couldn’t use all those workers at just one place.”

“They got shipped to other citrus groves, strawberry farms, or labor camps up north. We’ve uprooted the entire network.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t expect such excitement at our family reunion,” Marla said. “I’m just sorry Aunt Polly had to die.”

“May she rest in peace,” Anita added. “We need to say kaddish for her. When will we be able to…plan the memorial service?” Marla’s mother addressed her question to Vail.

“It’ll probably be a few more days yet until the toxicology report comes back.”

“I can start cleaning out her apartment,” Marla said. Sadness tinged her voice. “You know, I think she had a premonition. Aunt Polly wanted to find the treasure so she could buy back the resort and leave it as her legacy.”

She’d already explained to her family about Polly’s marriage to Vincent and about finding her wedding dress, letters, and will. No one begrudged her being the woman’s heir. She’d been more like a daughter to her than a niece, after all.

“Aunt Polly kept returning to Sugar Crest to search for the alexandrite stones,” Marla went on. “She made Seto promise not to expose the manager’s operation when she found out about it. She’d planned to right his wrongs when she bought the place.”

“Marla suspected at one point that your family might retain part ownership of the upper floors,” Vail offered. “That would have prevented a sale to the theme-park developers. It seemed a viable motive to get Polly out of the way, assuming she was the only one who knew about it.”

“That didn’t turn out to be the case,” Marla said, sniffing the jasmine-scented breeze.

Anita addressed her. “I don’t understand why Papa’s possessions are still in the tower. How come Mama didn’t sell his stuff? And after she died, why didn’t the hotel owners clean out those rooms?”

“Well, now, you know the documents that were in the humidor? Ruth’s will left her personal goods, including the furniture, to Polly. According to a copy of the
real
bill of sale that we found for the resort property, the family doesn’t own the two top floors, but Ruth and her surviving children have the right to reside there as long as they live.”

“Remember,” Vail said, “Butler would not have needed to dispose of Polly for this reason, even if she was the only one who knew about that provision. He was in favor of the hotel being restored, so he could continue his smuggling operation. When Polly got wind of his activities, that’s when she became a threat. But she didn’t want to ruin the resort’s reputation before she could afford to buy it back, so she kept silent.”

“It was Jeffrey who funded Donna Albright’s campaign for the living-history experience,” Marla reminded them. “He wanted the hotel destroyed, along with Polly’s letters and all evidence of his parents’ illegal union. Greed and fear of exposure were his motivators.”

Marla scanned the crowd but didn’t see Lori. She felt sorry for her cousin, but at least Lori had been released from an unhappy marriage. Marla would find her later to express condolences and offer encouragement.

“Awesome,” Rochelle said, sashaying into view, her young face aglow in the moonlight. A breeze lifted the hem of her floral skirt. Wearing a ruby tube top and strappy heels, she flaunted her assets in front of her young male cousins. “Andrew must have been happy you found his humidor, but it’s a bummer the jewels were all gone.”

“I think Seto buried the humidor. That’s why he hung out at the ruins, so he could make sure it was safe,” Marla said. She tightened the glittery shawl she wore around her black cocktail dress. “Besides Ruth’s will and her sale agreement for Sugar Crest, we found the detective’s report in the document pouch. Seto had enclosed a confession as well.”

She paused while her relatives hung on her words. ‘Those two visitors who wore Cossack hats…It was a disguise meant to fool Andrew into believing they were from his home country. Once they were admitted to see him, they showed their true colors. They were Nazis spies.”

“Oh, wow,” Rochelle breathed, a dreamy look on her face.

“Here comes the best part. Seto and Andrew killed the men, bashing their heads in with those heavy candlesticks on the fireplace mantel. The stress of the event made Andrew ill, and he staggered out, after his trusted caretaker promised to dispose of their bodies. Mulch dragged them into the secret passage and later buried them under his flower beds.”

“You’re saying Papa was a murderer?” Anita said, gasping. Her shock was reflected on the faces of her siblings, who stood by with their families, glued to Marla’s tale.

“Rumrunner, bootlegger, killer. Grandfather was a lot of things, but he wasn’t done in by any of Ruth’s siblings as she suspected. No, it was the stroke that got him. He died of natural causes. I think Polly figured it out and wanted to mend fences this weekend by bringing everyone together.”

“What about that nurse’s aide? Did you ever find out who hired her to take care of Polly the night she died?” Anita inquired.

“Yeah. Would you believe Polly hired the woman herself?” Marla’s face split into a sheepish grin. “Here I was ready to accuse Wanda Beake, because of a resemblance between the two. When I looked through Polly’s papers again this afternoon, I found a phone number for another nursing service. Polly didn’t want anyone to know she needed help, so she hired the aide and instructed her to pretend she’d been sent as a gift. Apparently, this woman had worked for the other agency previously and still wore that name tag. That’s why they said she wasn’t in their employ when Dr. Angus called.”

“Did you contact this person?” Anita said. “She would have been the last person to see Polly alive.”

“I spoke to her briefly on the telephone. Polly was fine when she left, around eleven o’clock that night.”

“So what’s going to happen to the resort?”

Marla shrugged. “Champagne has been put in charge until a new manager is appointed. She wanted to fire the steward, but Harvey promised to go on the wagon if she’d keep him. Brownie will stay on as dessert chef until she finds another position. She really didn’t do anything wrong, except to act as a snoop for Jeffrey.”

“I thought the council already voted to sell the place,” Cynthia said, smoothing her linen pants set.

Bruce smiled at his wife. “Another development company has made a better offer. They’ve got plans to explore the site’s archaeological value, so the ruins will remain untouched. But they’ll restore the grand hotel. It’ll be a gold mine, with its legends, ghosts, scandals, and secret passages. This will be a true living-history experience with a glimpse into the past.”

Marla’s jaw dropped. “Bless my bones, is that your doing?”

Rubbing his hands together, Bruce nodded jovially. “It promises to be an exciting project. I think we’ll leave Butler’s special effects in Oleander Hall and charge extra for folks who want to stay in the haunted wing. The concierge level, of course, will move to the penthouse. And the speakeasy will make a great lounge, as you said.” He made a slight bow.

Marla gave his shoulder an affectionate swat. “Leave it to Bruce to see that the hotel remains in the family.”

She had one more piece of unfinished business. Spotting her brother chatting with one of their uncles, she waved. “Hey, pal, can I see you alone for a minute?” She glanced at Vail. “You won’t mind, will you? I’ll be right back.”

He tilted his head. ‘Take your time. While I’m waiting, I’ll hit the bar for a drink refill. This whole
megillah
has left my head spinning. Ma, can I get you anything?” he asked Anita.

Marla beamed with pride as she watched him fold Anita’s arm into his own and stroll away. Her fiancé seemed much more comfortable with her family than when they’d first arrived. That had been her goal in bringing him along, after all. She felt a warm glow of satisfaction. Dalton would fit in just fine with her family.

“So tell me, bro,” she said to Michael, “did you talk to Charlene about your problems?”

He regarded her warmly. “Yep, and you were right. She had some good ideas that will help us get off the ground.”

“You may not owe Polly any more money, but you’ve lost your savings.” When they reached a darkened corner, she rummaged inside her purse and then withdrew her fist. “I’m giving these to you on one condition. You don’t tell anyone about this exchange.”

She opened her palm, and gleaming in the moonlight were three smoky stones.

Her brother’s eyes widened. ‘You found the jewels. Where?” he choked out.

“They were under a false bottom in the humidor. I don’t think even Seto knew they were there. He might have given them to Polly otherwise.” She leaned forward. “Promise me you’ll use these stones to clear your debts with any extra going into your retirement funds.”

He didn’t make a move to take them. “Are there more?”

“No, this is all that was left. Don’t argue with me. I want you to have them.” Marla chuckled. “In my mind, this isn’t the real treasure. Would you believe we’re all descended from Russian royalty? I found another document in the humidor: Andrew’s true identity papers.”

His face sobered. “We’re all his heirs. Those stones belong to our parents: Ma and her brothers. They should sell them and divide up the money.”

“Not really. Ruth may have put the proceeds from the hotel sale into her estate, but she left her personal possessions to Polly. That means these belong to me now. I’m giving them to you along with my blessing.”

“But you—”

She shook her head, soft waves of hair brushing her face. “I don’t need them. I’ll get Andrew’s furniture and paintings that I suspect will fetch a decent price, plus whatever Polly has in her accounts. I’ve been thinking of adding spa services to my salon. Maybe now we’ll be able to expand.”

If she had anything left after paying off her loan from Miriam, that is. She’d rather move the salon to a bigger space in a more upscale location. That wasn’t her main reason for wanting a change. She couldn’t stand dealing with her landlord any longer. They’d had too many run-ins for their continued association to remain pleasant. Getting away from him had become her new goal.

“Marla, I still feel bad about taking what’s rightfully yours. How can I ever…?” Michael’s voice broke.

“Consider it an investment for my niece and nephew.” She hugged him, patting his back.

After dropping the stones in his palm, she strode away.

Vail stood by the pool tapping his foot. The Jamaican steel band had kicked off the dance party with a fast beat, and a mass of jiggling bodies crowded the deck. Waitresses strolled among the seated observers, hawking tropical drinks with chunks of pineapple and party umbrellas while flaming torches added to the ambience. Fuel tainted the air with a chemical scent.

“I guess your good deed got accepted,” Vail said when she accosted him with a kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” Grabbing her hand, he wormed through the throng toward an isolated section of beach, where they shed their shoes.

Marla’s feet sank into sand as he led her along the shoreline. Edging closer to the water, she splashed into the sea foam, feeling the sting of salt water on her legs. The guitar music receded as they increased their distance, and soon she heard nothing except an occasional seagull taunting its prey with a shrill cry and the soothing swoosh of the ocean. Out to sea, moonbeams cut the crests into sprays of diamonds.

She gave Vail a sidelong glance. His impressive profile quickened her pulse. He looked handsome in a gray sweater, black trousers, and sport coat. His clothing highlighted the silver streaks in his hair.

His gaze darkened as he halted to face her. He said nothing, clearing his throat in an uncharacteristic manner.

Her toes sifted warm sand while she waited for him to speak. Would this be good news or bad? Her stomach muscles clenched.