Chapter Nine
ROB PATS DEREK ON THE BACK. “I’LL CLUE YOU IN. NO sweat.”
I give Rob an icy glare. He’s so infatuated by Derek and the Von Thurston legacy that I can’t rely on him to read any of my signs. I get it. I would probably be the same way if a great detective were among us. But now is not the time to lose focus. When Cheryl started working at the hotel, we became inseparable. Cheryl practically ended my sentences for me. Rob didn’t join us until a little later, but when he did, we became the Three Musketeers. Now it feels like Rob is trying to convert our trio into a quartet.
“What’s your father doing right now?” Rob asks. He rubs his belly. He must still be walking around with the Dr. Von Thurston book hidden under his shirt.
“He’s busy preparing for his big show tomorrow,” Derek says. “There’s meditation, a massage, and a private mime class.”
Although part of me wants to ask him about the mime class and how it plays into his father’s act, I bite my tongue. “Did you attend any workshops today?” I ask instead.
“A true detective would have asked that ages ago,” Derek says with a smug look on his face. “No. My father and I were both at the breakfast bar this morning. I enjoyed the eggs Benedict and bacon.”
“Great! Then you are both off my list.” For now, I add silently.
“Who should we be interviewing next, Goldie?” Rob asks, anticipating Derek’s next question, which I can tell is right at the tip of his tongue.
“Sorry, I’ve got other plans.” Before Derek can say a word, I do a quick about-face and head to the elevators. “I’m going home. Later, alligators!”
“But your home is that way!” Rob yells, pointing outside. I pretend not to hear. There’s so much to do before my date with Diane, and I can cover a lot more ground without Mr. Let Me Explain It All by my side.
Saying I’m going home is just a ruse. I don’t actually live in the hotel proper, but of course Derek doesn’t know that. I reach the service elevator. Only certain hotel employees have access to this elevator. You need a special key for it to work. My dad has access. Cheryl, too, for emergency purposes only. Walt and Mr. Maple have access. And one other person. You guessed it—little ol’ me!
I watch the service-elevator door close before Derek and Rob reach me. I need to speak to the custodial manager of the hotel. Alone. I press the button marked B for basement.
The Crossed Palms Resort has many tunnels, corridors, and underground hideaways. I’ve spent countless hours playing hide-and-seek on these grounds, so I’m familiar with most of the little nooks and crannies. But even I haven’t explored every single place. There is one man who has: Mr. Yahontov.
Oh, how could I forget! Sometimes Mr. Yahontov has access to the service elevator, too. He usually gets the key from Mr. Maple or Walt.
Mr. Yahontov is in charge of the custodial-arts department at the hotel. Every day, from his office in the basement, he deploys hundreds of custodial workers throughout the hotel. The workers take to the guest rooms and conference rooms to make sure they are immaculate by the time the next group of people rolls in.
To achieve such an undertaking, you need someone really good at coordinating schedules. Since the League of Magical Arts Convention has so many workshops, you’d need a super-large schedule to get the rooms clean.
“Zdravstvuyte!” I say. That’s hello in Russian. “How’s the cleaning game?”
“No cleaning here, my lovely Goldie. Just a lot of work.” He pulls a bandanna from his back pocket and gently wipes the sweat from his forehead. “What are you doing down below? Don’t you have the day off?”
“A good detective never rests,” I say. “By any chance, have any of your workers found gold cards in one of the conference rooms? They’re called Chakra Cards, and they’ve gone missing.”
Mr. Yahontov shakes his head. “I have heard about the situation and the answer is no. No cards and no missing papers.”
Of course, Walt must have spoken to Mr. Yahontov and asked him to pay attention for any missing items. But Walt might have forgotten to ask this:
“Who set up the workshop rooms?”
Mr. Yahontov pulls out a large leather-bound book. He likes to call it his bible. With it, he knows exactly where everyone is meant to be and when. He’s just like Cheryl in that way. A wiz at schedules, maps, and coordination.
“That is an easy answer. The only two people who set up those rooms are Melina and George,” he says, pointing to the two names in his ledger. “They worked that floor. A total of five rooms.”
Melina and George are some of our top workers. If they saw anything out of the ordinary, they would have immediately told Mr. Yahontov.
“And they didn’t see a thing, huh?” I ask, just to make sure.
“Not a thing.”
I catch the time on Mr. Yahontov’s watch. Oh boy. I better hurry. I’m supposed to meet Diane in the lobby for our date in a little under half an hour. During the afternoon sessions of the convention, various magic shows will be popping up all over the hotel. I thought it would be fun for Diane and me to check them out. Little did I know I would also be working. I won’t tell Diane. I’m not sure how she’d feel about our first date turning into a mystery, but it can’t hurt to make sure the magic shows go off without a hitch.
“Mr. Yahontov, thank you so much for being so helpful,” I say.
“Did I even help?” he asks.
“You sure did!” I say, and give him a quick hug.
Even if I didn’t get any closer to solving the mystery, it’s always nice to spend time with Mr. Yahontov in his basement of wonder.
I head back upstairs. Before exiting the elevator, I take a quick glance to make sure Derek is nowhere in sight. I go outside to the small cottage tucked a bit away from the hotel. Our lovely little home. It’s small and perfect for Dad and me.
He’s not home right now. Dad’s probably trying to quell some “fire” at the hotel. I meander into the kitchen to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and then scarf it down with a tall glass of orange juice. Even though my mind is racing with images of floating magicians and Chakra Cards, I try to turn it off for just a second. Diane will be at the Crossed Palms Resort soon. Time to think about that instead!
I take off my yellow headband and open my dresser drawer. Numerous other neatly folded yellow headbands stare back at me. Which one should I select? I know. I’ll wear the one I wore when I met Diane. It’s seen so much, like the first day Diane glanced my way and smiled. One look and I was on the hook.
Now for the real question: Do I wear my blue capri pants or my other blue capri pants? It’s a tough call. I want to look cute but not too dressed up. I need comfort but can’t look as if I’ve been working all day. I stare at my closet, where a rack of capri pants hang. So many options.
“Talk to me, capris. Which one of you should I wear?”
I run my fingers over a few pairs of pants and then stop. This pair is calling to me. I make the obvious choice and pick the capris that make me happy. (Truth be told, all capris make me happy. They’re the best! They let my ankles breathe, they have pockets for all my important tools—including Mr. Oculus—and they’re so dang comfortable.) I change into my chosen outfit—a short-sleeved blue button-up and a yellow-and-pink striped sweater-vest. Done.
I hope Diane will like the magic shows. Afterward, we can meet Cheryl and Rob at the rendezvous. That should be fun! Right?
Okay, why am I doubting myself? I guess I’m nervous. Me? Nervous? When did that happen?
“Goldie Vance! Pull yourself together. Today is going to be a great day. And neither Derek nor missing Chakra Cards nor flash papers are going to ruin it,” I say to myself. “Let’s go!”
Everyone can use a pep talk. Sometimes you have to just give yourself one. I slip my comfortable loafers on and head out the door. The butterflies in my stomach are flying out of control. This happens every time I see Diane. Mom says it’s just nerves and that I should harness the bubbles. Think of it as an energy source. Excitement for the day, she says.
Bubble energy!
THE LOBBY IS CROWDED WITH MAGICIANS. THANKFULLY, Derek is nowhere to be found. Then again, neither is Diane. I hope she didn’t change her mind or decide that magic is silly and a waste of time. Oh boy. What if that’s the case and she’s a no-show? What time is it?
“Goldie!”
There she is! She’s wearing a black-and-white striped T-shirt tucked into black slacks, and she has a yellow bandanna around her neck, adding just the perfect flash of color to her outfit. Her baby hairs make a very cute curl on the side of her face.
“You made it,” I say.
“Hi, Goldie! I’m excited to see some magic. Aren’t you?” Her shoulder bumps into mine, and I’m positive my butterflies do a twirl or two.
“I am. The schedule’s chock-full of options,” I say, pulling out the pamphlet for her to see. “Because it’s such a beautiful day, I thought it would be nice to catch a show being held in the garden. What do you think?”
Diane smiles her magnificent smile. I’ve made the right choice!
“Do you want anything to drink? Maybe a glass of lemonade?” The hotel lobby always has drinks to keep the guests hydrated. I walk Diane over to the station to find Evan replenishing one of the pitchers.
“Hi, Evan! Do you mind if I pour some lemonade?” I ask, grabbing glasses for Diane and me.
“Sure thing,” Evan says. “What’s the word from the bird?”
“Just going to check out some magic shows with Diane.” I introduce them.
“Nice to meet you, Diane. I hope you don’t fall for this hocus-pocus like most people here,” Evan says. “Nothing is more boring than performers trying to outdo each other.”
I guess Evan is still annoyed with the magicians.
“I love all things mysterious,” Diane says. “It’s neat trying to figure out how they do it.”
Did Diane say she likes mysteries? My heart skips a beat or two.
“The only mystery is seeing how the magicians’ assistants do all the hard work,” Evan says. “See you around, Goldie. Nice to meet you, Diane.”
I hand Diane a glass of lemonade. She clinks her glass against mine before taking a sip. I should have made a toast. Next time for sure.
“Shall we?” I say. Diane nods, placing her empty glass on the table next to mine, and we make our way through the crowded lobby toward the garden.
I was right. The weather is beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky. It’s not too hot or too cold. Just a sweet breeze stirring the air.
Out in the garden, the hotel has set up a space with chairs for the audience and a short stage for the magician to perform on. Because I want to see the action, I lead Diane to the front row. That way I can spot if anything goes wrong.
“Do you know any magic tricks?” I ask.
Diane shakes her head. “Not really. Truth be told, I’ve never been to a magic show before. This is my first.”
Is it weird I feel all kinds of pressure now? If this magic show doesn’t deliver the goods, will Diane be disappointed in me? I need to put the kibosh on this thinking. Our date just started and I need to cool it. This is an adventure.
“A butterfly is saying hello to us.” Diane points to the beautiful monarch butterfly flying above us. “Maybe she wants to enjoy the show, too.” Now, that’s a good sign if ever there was one!
A magician wearing coattails and a top hat takes the stage. He’s a regular ol’ penguin, just like I was last night.
“Esteemed guests! You are right where you belong!” he says with a very cute British accent. “My name is Sir Thomas Browne, but my friends call me Sir Thomas Browne. That’s right. Get my name right, I tell them. I am here to astound you, perplex you, confuse you, and ultimately, hopefully, make you smile. Are you ready?”
“Hold on a second. My question to you was, Are you ready?”
This time we all scream a big affirmation. Our “yes” is so loud that Diane and I practically bust a gut.
Stop the presses! I see him. Derek is walking over to the front row. I want to play dead, but he’s eyeing the empty seat right next to me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.