Resorting To The Truth. Lisa Dyson
been starved for him. She’d clung to his body, matching his ardor with her own. She put her cool hands to her face, which burned with embarrassment.
Her knees were about to buckle by the time she reached her room. She settled herself on one of the two Hemingway-style chairs and propped her feet on the matching ottoman. The breeze coming from the balcony through the open sliding doors fluttered the sheers.
The phone rang unexpectedly and Charlotte jumped. She picked up the extension on the table next to her. “Hello?” Her voice quavered and she cleared her throat.
“Hi, Allie, this is Veronica. I’m sorry to bother you, but are you okay? That manager guy seemed pretty angry.”
Charlotte tried to play it off. “I’m fine. It was just a little misunderstanding. In fact—”
“Misunderstanding?” Veronica wasn’t going to let it go.
“He thought I was someone from his past.” Charlotte wasn’t about to give her more than that.
“Oh. Okay. I’m glad you straightened him out then.”
If only.
When Charlotte didn’t comment, Veronica said, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
Oh no, now what? “Ready?” Tomorrow couldn’t possibly be worse than today.
“For the conference. I picked up your name tag and welcome folder when I registered. I figured you’d like to see a schedule. Looks like Raymond Foster will be here Monday.”
“Raymond Foster?”
“You have heard the news that he’s looking for a new agency, right? Everyone’s been talking about it. He’s been with the same one since the eighties.”
“I have,” Charlotte answered. She decided to try again to correct Veronica’s misconception. “I need to tell you something. Allie Miller is my twin sister. My name is Charlotte Harrington.”
Veronica was silent for a few seconds and then she burst out laughing. “Good one, Allie. Although I don’t think you’ll get anyone to believe that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re known for making up things, especially to win accounts. No one is going to fall for your ‘twin’ story.”
“But it’s true.”
“If you say so.” Veronica didn’t sound convinced.
Charlotte dropped the subject. “Thank you for registering me.” Allie should be here. This account sounded like the one she needed to keep her fledgling business going.
“Not a problem,” Veronica said. “I’ll meet you at breakfast and give it to you.”
Instead of saying no, Charlotte answered, “Sounds good.” She hung up, then closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. She needed to try again to call her sister. She retrieved her cell phone and located Allie’s cell number.
Once again, the call went to voice mail.
“Allie, it’s Charlotte. I really need to talk to you. There’s a man coming to the conference, Raymond Foster, and rumor has it he’s looking for a new agency. You should be here.”
She disconnected and looked at her phone. How could she help her sister? For the next hour, she called Allie every fifteen minutes with no luck.
She changed for bed, not caring that she’d missed dinner. While brushing her teeth, she looked in the bathroom mirror and suddenly knew how she might be able to help.
Everyone she’d met, including Sam Briton, thought she was Allie.
So that’s who she was going to be. Honestly, it might be fun to be someone other than sad Charlotte for a change.
* * *
SAM EXITED THE main building and headed to bungalow 6. He made a mental note to check with Maintenance to see if the elevator part was on its way. As was his habit, he surveyed his surroundings as he walked down the stone path through the canopy of palms. He watched for landscaping that needed trimming back from the walkway or anything else that might need attention.
The Snyders were repeat customers now that they were both retired, and he’d do whatever was necessary to keep them happy. He had a difficult time believing the man’s phone was stolen. More than likely, he’d just misplaced it. The resort had rarely experienced a theft problem since he’d been here. He had dealt with illegal activity at the other Grand Peacock resorts he’d worked at, but seldom at this one.
He knocked on the Snyders’ door. Footsteps became increasingly louder until Bob Snyder opened the door.
“Come in, Sam.” Bob shook Sam’s hand and gestured to where his wife was seated on the striped sofa near the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors. “You remember my wife, Evelyn.”
“Of course. How are you?”
“I’m doing well.” Evelyn and Bob were the classic couple who, over their long marriage, had come to look like each other. Short, round and gray, with bifocals and a passion for matching outfits. Today they wore red-and-yellow floral shirts with white cotton pants.
“Good to hear.” Sam took a seat on the chair across from the sofa where Bob sat next to his wife. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had some trouble. Your phone is missing?”
“That’s right.” Bob rested one foot on his opposite knee.
“When did you notice it was gone?”
Bob looked at Evelyn. “About an hour ago?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Where did you see it last?” Sam still hoped the phone had been misplaced.
“I remember setting it down on the dresser when we got back from our walk. That was around three.”
“Did anyone come to the door, or did you leave the bungalow after that?”
“Only when the front desk called.”
“At least, we thought it was the front desk.” Evelyn’s voice trembled, and Bob patted her hand.
“What do you mean you thought it was the front desk?” Sam squirmed in his chair.
“We got a call asking us both to come to the front desk immediately. The man said there was a problem with some of the guests’ credit cards, and we needed to bring our credit card and ID for verification.”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “I never heard anything about this.”
“Neither had your desk clerk. Tom, I think it was,” Bob said. “He had no idea what we were talking about.”
“Do you think that’s when your phone was stolen?”
Bob shrugged. “Must have been. I didn’t notice it was missing until quite a while later, but that’s the only time we were away from it.”
“Is there anything else missing?”
“Everything else of value was already locked in the room safe. The phone call made it seem urgent that we complied, so I didn’t think about my phone. I only had it out to be sure we didn’t get a text from our son. He and his wife are expecting their first child in a few weeks.”
Sam got up and walked around the room, checking the windows and French doors leading to the private hot tub. Whoever took the phone must be an employee—or working with one of them—to have gotten into the bungalow without breaking in. The front door automatically locked when it was shut, so a person would need a master key to get in. Sam couldn’t imagine any of his staff taking such a risk. Someone must be desperate to have pulled a stunt like this.
A few minutes later, after assuring the Snyders he would take care of the matter and reimburse them for a new phone, he also promised them two free nights at the resort.
Sam