Resorting To The Truth. Lisa Dyson
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Katie could handle things by herself. Ben had complete confidence in her, but she was fresh out of college and had worked at the Grand Peacock less than a year. Sam reached for the messages on his desk and sipped his coffee.
“I might need an extra person directing people for meals,” she told him. “I already recruited Tom to help me decorate for Sunday night’s gathering. They’d like karaoke set up, too.”
“Sounds good.” The less he was required to be near Allie, the better. He was also pretty sure their desk clerk, Tom, had a major crush on Katie. So he’d do whatever she needed.
“I better make certain everyone gets to where they’re supposed to,” Katie said.
“Good luck!”
Her chuckle came from down the hall.
He turned his attention to the message his chief repairman had left on his desk. Sam was pleased to see the elevator part should be installed by late that afternoon.
Next, he checked his email. George, his head of security, needed to talk to him. Sam called him immediately, hoping there had been no further burglaries.
“Hey, George, Sam Briton. Give me some good news.”
“I wish I could, sir. I’m afraid there’s a problem with the video footage from yesterday’s burglary.”
“A problem?” Having cameras along the outdoor paths leading to the bungalows was always a challenge, thanks to the unpredictability of nature, which was why they checked the cameras daily. They were mostly there for the safety of the guests in case someone got hurt. Criminal activity was seldom a problem, so the cameras weren’t monitored 24/7.
“There are four minutes and nineteen seconds of palm fronds waving in the wind,” George reported. “Someone moved the cameras.”
“Moved them? Can you tell who did it and how?” No way could someone pull something like that off and not get caught. They’d have to get up in the palm trees to get access, which would probably require a ladder.
“Looks like whoever did it knew exactly where the cameras were located. And they avoided the path. The footage shows what I assume is the couple staying at bungalow 6 walking toward the main resort. Shortly after that is when the camera is tilted and the trees are all that can be seen.”
“The Snyders,” Sam clarified. “Retired couple, matching outfits.”
“That’s them. After the four-plus minutes, the camera is aimed back where it’s supposed to be.”
“So it was deliberate,” Sam concluded. “No chance a bird or animal bumped it.”
“Correct. I’m headed out there now to see if I can find footprints off the path, evidence of a ladder or any other clues.”
“Good,” Sam said. “Let me know what you find.”
* * *
CHARLOTTE SAT AT a small table in the lobby, sipping a cup of coffee that was upsetting her already roiling stomach. Could she pull off this act? Make everyone believe she was Allie? She told herself it would be easy because no one believed she was Allie’s twin, no matter how many times she repeated it.
Her sister still hadn’t returned her calls and neither had Jack. Charlotte had awoken in the middle of the night and remembered that Allie and Jack had planned a trip this weekend. A New England trip, Vermont, she thought they’d said.
Charlotte could have emailed them, but figured if they weren’t answering their phones, then they weren’t checking email, either. She also surmised they might be in an area with poor cell coverage because Allie was always good about calling Charlotte back. And hearing that Raymond Foster was coming would surely pique her interest. According to what Charlotte read on the internet last night, he owned a conglomerate of most of the food brands in her fridge and pantry.
Veronica and Jared were seated across from Charlotte. From their constant chatter, they were either super relaxed or super nervous. She couldn’t tell which.
“Don’t you just adore this place?” Veronica was saying. “I’d love to bottle that salty ocean breeze and take it home with me.”
Home. That’s where Charlotte should be. Not conducting a ruse that could go wrong at any moment. Her stomach flipped again. What if she ruined things for Allie instead of helped her?
Jared laughed at Veronica’s suggestion. “That would just make me miss this place more.”
They continued their discussion on how to take the island home with them until the young woman in charge—Katie—informed them breakfast was over and workshops would begin in a few minutes. She gave directions to where things were located, reminding them that they’d received a resort map in their registration materials.
Charlotte felt confident about knowing the names of a few people. That was a decent start in pretending to be Allie. Her memory for names was pretty good, thanks to her inner artist that kept accurate pictures of people stored in her brain. Just never ask her what she ate for breakfast yesterday.
She’d checked the schedule for the workshops. Raymond Foster would be doing a two-hour presentation Monday morning with regards to what a client wanted and how to win big accounts. Charlotte thought she should attend that one so she had an idea of what to tell Allie if her sister wanted to pitch to him.
That gave her two days to get Allie to return her call.
* * *
SAM LEANED BACK in his desk chair and studied the week’s schedule Katie had provided. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he could see a few holes where he might be needed with Ben gone.
His phone rang.
“Sam Briton,” he answered after the first ring.
“Hey, Sam,” his father-in-law greeted him. “Just checking in to let you know the kids and I arrived safely in Fort Lauderdale.”
“Good to know,” Sam said. “Are my munchkins behaving?”
“Of course they are,” John answered with a chuckle. “How’s it going there? Are you managing okay without Ben?”
“Katie’s doing a great job, so far,” Sam told him. “There’s been only one hiccup.” He decided on the fly that John would be a good person to talk to about the Allie Miller situation since he was fully aware of her Charleston trouble.
“A big or little problem?”
“Not sure yet,” Sam replied. “Allie Miller is an attendee at the conference we’re hosting.”
“Allie Miller? Why is that name familiar?” Before Sam could answer, John continued, “You mean the little schemer who got caught up in that mess in Charleston?”
“The one and only.”
“Is she causing trouble again?” There was agitation evident in his tone. “You better keep a close eye on that woman.”
“Believe me, I am.” Sam swallowed, trying not to focus on how he had been closer to that woman than he should have been. “We’ve also had a burglary.” He gave John the details, including the movement of the video camera.
“Funny how it coincides with Allie Miller’s appearance,” John said.
That’s what Sam thought, too. “Yeah, real funny.” But Sam wasn’t laughing.
They chatted a few more minutes about what the kids were up to and then Emma wanted to talk to Sam.
“Hi, Daddy,” she greeted him.
“Hey there, cutie. Whatcha’ up to?”
He could tell by what she called him what kind of mood she was in. “Dad” was her usual form of address, and “Daddy” meant she wanted something. Look out if she called him “Father.” Just thinking about that superior tone gave him the willies.
“Nothing