I needed to look at everyone’s shoes. But getting a good view was going to be difficult.
I debated my options. Just ask if I could take a look at everyone’s shoes. But that would be weird, and hard to explain.
I tucked my hair behind my ear. I fiddled with the small floral earring on my right earlobe. It was a gift from an ex-boyfriend. I tried to mask my face of my delight as the plan popped into my head.
I got up for another glass of juice. As I poured it, I glanced over my shoulder. No one was watching me. I removed the earring and hid it in my left hand. I returned to the table with the refilled glass of juice in my right hand. I tossed the earring under the table as I sat.
I waited a few minutes and then gasped, “Oh no. I lost my earring.”
Charlotte looked over and checked out my other ear. “No big deal. Not like they’re nice.”
I ignored her. I got on my hands and knees and crawled under the table. I tapped each person on the leg. They each lifted their foot up. I took a quick glance at their shoe for blood or any tread resembling the mark I’d seen on the photo, making a semicircle.
“Let me help,” Sabrina said. She joined me under the table. As she crawled in front of me, I got the best view of her shoes. The x-patterned tread was covered in dirt and dust. No blood.
I got to the end of the table. No matches. “Oh well,” I said to Sabrina as I stood.
“Don’t give up. Let’s keep looking.” She remained on her hands on knees and kept up her search.
The rest of the group continued with their lunch, oblivious to our search. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my lunchtime on my hands and knees looking for a not-lost earring. Those quesadillas were going fast.
I returned to the floor but quickly exclaimed, “Found it!” I stood back up and Sabrina walked back over.
“Oh good,” Sabrina said. I put the earring back on. “Did you find it with the back still on it?”
“Oh…oh no. The back was still on my ear when I noticed the earring was gone. That’s how I knew I’d just lost it.” Jack was right. I was a rookie.
Sabrina nodded understanding and took a closer look at my earring, back on my earlobe. “They are pretty.”
“Thank you for your help,” I said to Sabrina. She sat back down between the boys. I glared at Charlotte as I returned to my seat. She shrugged and continued eating her salad.
Just because the shoe each guest wore now didn’t have blood on it didn’t mean they were clear of the murder. They could have washed the shoe. Even if I could remember what shoe they had worn that night, they could have changed shoes before visiting Dr. Higgins.
I sat across from Geri, the most experienced safari traveler of the group. I think she had packed four pairs of shoes. “How many shoes did you bring with you on vacation?” I asked Hazel, who was sitting next to me.
“Umm…” Using her fingers, she counted to four. “Four. Why?”
“Just wondering. Are all of them like them?”
She looked down at her dusty hiking boots. “Oh no.” Using her fingers again, she counted off her shoes. “I brought these, smart shoes for the city, sandals for the pool, flats for dining. This isn’t a place for heels, is it?”
Four shoes. I looked around the table. I doubted anyone had gone on vacation with only one pair of shoes. No way I’d be able to inspect everyone’s shoes.
“Do you need an extra pair, dear?” Geri asked. “Maybe the gift shop has something.”
“Rookie can’t afford the boutique, Geri,” Jack said.
I nodded. He was right. I couldn’t. I’d been in it a few times. The clerk didn’t even get up anymore when I entered. Although I had bought that pink scarf for Charlotte’s birthday.
“Just curious.”
“You are a curious one,” Jack said. “And you sure do lose a lot of things.”
I became defensive and tried to whip up an excuse for my many questions. Fortunately, the staff intervened.
“Naomi, Leticia was asking to see you,” Advice told me.
Now, that seemed curious. I looked around the table for someone’s reaction. No one noticed. I got up and walked slowly to reception. The list of reasons she could want to see me was long. Could she kick me out of the lodge for my investigation? Probably, but where would I go? It’s not like I could just go to a hotel down the street.
Had someone seen me go into a staff-only area? Going through the Wallaces’ laundry? Or borrowing the surveillance camera’s memory card?
Or had she known all these things all along and finally put it all together?
I tried to think positive. Maybe the internet was back up and she wanted me to be the first to know! I grabbed my phone out of pocket. Nope. There was still no Wi-Fi.
Leticia was seated behind her desk, waiting, when I walked into the reception area. “Please, sit down,” she told me, pointing to one of the empty chairs across from her. She smiled and I couldn’t decide if it was genuine or not. “I hear you like it here.”
“I do.”
“The staff like you as well.”
“That’s nice.” Was that typical? I wondered. I had no idea where this was going. “They are all very nice.”
“They tell me you ask a lot of questions.”
I smiled. There was no denying that.
“And that you’d like a job here.”
“What?”
“A few staff have told me you’d like a job here. I’m wondering if you’d be a good fit.”
I looked down at my clothing. If this was a job interview, I wasn’t dressed for it. Cargo pants and a white graphic T-shirt wasn’t exactly professional attire.
She opened a notepad in front of her and held a pen at the ready. “Do you have any experience working at a lodge?”
“No, they don’t have places like this back home.”
“So, a hotel then. Have you ever worked at a hotel?”
“No.”
“And what do you do back home?”
“I work in customer service at a department store.”
She noted it and moved on to the next question. “Did you know that field staff, like Sonny and Ray, had to complete a boundary walk of the property before their first day?”
“No.”
“It’s a twenty-five kilometer walk around the property by yourself. Do you think you could do that?”
I almost didn’t survive a boundary walk around my suite so I doubted anything longer, in an area not protected by fencing to keep the big animals out, alone, would be doable for me.
“I am impressed that you stayed at the treehouse by yourself,” she continued. “That’s some real fortitude. No other guest has ever done that. But don’t confuse that with the ability to work here.”
The good news is she wasn’t kicking me out of the lodge because of my investigation. The bad news is I had no idea how to get out of her office gracefully. And then it got worse.
“I’ve seen your type before.”
My type. I didn’t know what that meant but, based on her tone, it was not a compliment.
“Single American. Thinks everyone is interested in them.” She closed her notepad. The job interview portion of our chat was over. More bad news, I wasn’t getting a job. “I’ve seen you in the lobby. Often. Going through our catalog. Looking at the owners, the Kingleys. Mr. Kingley’s sons are very handsome, and yes, they are single.”
Well, this had taken yet another unexpected turn. She had no idea I thought a murder had occurred at her lodge. She just thought I was a gold digger.
“But they would not be interested in you, especially if you are staff. This isn’t some romantic movie, like Pretty Woman.” Pretty Woman? Did she just call me a prostitute?
I had no response and wanted, desperately, to leave this awkward conversation. Could she not have come up with a more relevant and accurate movie reference? Maid in Manhattan seemed the more obvious, and less offensive, choice.
“How’s the internet?” I asked.
In unison, we said, “It’s temporary. We’re working on it. It’ll be fixed shortly.”
See, I could work here. I knew the party line.