thoughts were scrambling like a gerbil on steroids. But Carmela must have been mistaken. Maybe Lark had just left a note for the guru at the front desk, I decided. There was no way she would go up to his room, was there?
“ Did Carmela know the girl’s name?” I asked, trying to keep my voice bland.
“I don’t think so, but I know that Martino took down a description and Carmela said she’s seen her in the neighborhood. Very slim, shaggy short blond hair, about five-two. Funny, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say she could be Lark’s twin.”
Lark’s twin . My spirits sank like a stone, but I managed a wan smile. “Hey, wouldn’t that be something?” I said, joining in the fun. “Maybe Lark has a long-lost twin who has a thing for gurus, but I guess that only happens in detective novels.” I bit back a nervous laugh that ended in an embarrassing squeak.
“I guess,” Ted said, looking puzzled.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “it sounds like Martino may have a lead. But did anyone else visit the guru last night? Did Carmela mention any other suspects? I mean guests?” I corrected myself quickly.
“Carmela didn’t see anyone else.”
I glanced out into the lobby. “Yes, but someone could have slipped by the front desk if things were busy. See how easy it would be? All they had to do was follow that hallway toward the garden, and then they could take the back stairs and walk right up to his room.”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“Or maybe it was someone in the guru’s own party; you know, one of his staff members. He could have had some sort of confrontation with him, and maybe he accidentally killed him.” I paused, thinking it over. “I bet lots of people had access to his room. He was on the second floor, right?”
“How did you know that?”
“Well, he told me he hated elevators. He said he refused to use one. We were talking about claustrophobia during the commercial break yesterday, and I just couldn’t picture him hoofing it up several flights of stairs. So I figured he’d ask you for a room on the lowest floor.”
“Maggie Walsh, ace detective,” Ted teased me. “You know, you sound like you’re conducting a homicide investigation. For all I know, you could be working undercover as Martino’s partner.”
“No chance of that.”
He grinned and gave me a searching look while I busied myself pouring more coffee for us. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Maggie? You’re not here on assignment, are you? Covering the story for WYME?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” I rushed on. “It’s just that . . . well, you know, I interviewed Guru Sanjay, and I feel terrible that he died. Or was murdered. Right here. In this hotel.”
I felt my face flushing, and I could feel a trickle of flop sweat crawling down my spine. I knew I had said too much. Was Ted suspicious? My mental 8-Ball said: “Signs point to no.” He was slipping his arm around me, big-brother style.
“Hey, Maggie, honey, you can’t let this get to you.” He pulled me close to him for a moment, his voice warm with concern. “Just let the police do their job, and it will all come out right in the end, you’ll see. They’ll find out who killed Guru Sanjay.”
Manuel, the busboy, suddenly materialized next to us. “Señor Rollins,” he said softly. He pointed to the front desk, where Carmela was pantomiming that Ted had to take an important phone call.
“Oops, that’s a call from Corporate I’ve been expecting. I’ve got to skedaddle.” He smiled into my eyes before sliding back his chair and standing up. “I don’t want you worrying over this anymore, Maggie. The police will get to the bottom of it; they’re the professionals, you know.”
“I know.”
He playfully touched the end of my nose, his deeply tanned face breaking into a wide grin. “So I want you to promise me you won’t give it another thought.”
“I promise.” I fake-smiled back at him and for the
“ Did Carmela know the girl’s name?” I asked, trying to keep my voice bland.
“I don’t think so, but I know that Martino took down a description and Carmela said she’s seen her in the neighborhood. Very slim, shaggy short blond hair, about five-two. Funny, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say she could be Lark’s twin.”
Lark’s twin . My spirits sank like a stone, but I managed a wan smile. “Hey, wouldn’t that be something?” I said, joining in the fun. “Maybe Lark has a long-lost twin who has a thing for gurus, but I guess that only happens in detective novels.” I bit back a nervous laugh that ended in an embarrassing squeak.
“I guess,” Ted said, looking puzzled.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “it sounds like Martino may have a lead. But did anyone else visit the guru last night? Did Carmela mention any other suspects? I mean guests?” I corrected myself quickly.
“Carmela didn’t see anyone else.”
I glanced out into the lobby. “Yes, but someone could have slipped by the front desk if things were busy. See how easy it would be? All they had to do was follow that hallway toward the garden, and then they could take the back stairs and walk right up to his room.”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“Or maybe it was someone in the guru’s own party; you know, one of his staff members. He could have had some sort of confrontation with him, and maybe he accidentally killed him.” I paused, thinking it over. “I bet lots of people had access to his room. He was on the second floor, right?”
“How did you know that?”
“Well, he told me he hated elevators. He said he refused to use one. We were talking about claustrophobia during the commercial break yesterday, and I just couldn’t picture him hoofing it up several flights of stairs. So I figured he’d ask you for a room on the lowest floor.”
“Maggie Walsh, ace detective,” Ted teased me. “You know, you sound like you’re conducting a homicide investigation. For all I know, you could be working undercover as Martino’s partner.”
“No chance of that.”
He grinned and gave me a searching look while I busied myself pouring more coffee for us. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Maggie? You’re not here on assignment, are you? Covering the story for WYME?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” I rushed on. “It’s just that . . . well, you know, I interviewed Guru Sanjay, and I feel terrible that he died. Or was murdered. Right here. In this hotel.”
I felt my face flushing, and I could feel a trickle of flop sweat crawling down my spine. I knew I had said too much. Was Ted suspicious? My mental 8-Ball said: “Signs point to no.” He was slipping his arm around me, big-brother style.
“Hey, Maggie, honey, you can’t let this get to you.” He pulled me close to him for a moment, his voice warm with concern. “Just let the police do their job, and it will all come out right in the end, you’ll see. They’ll find out who killed Guru Sanjay.”
Manuel, the busboy, suddenly materialized next to us. “Señor Rollins,” he said softly. He pointed to the front desk, where Carmela was pantomiming that Ted had to take an important phone call.
“Oops, that’s a call from Corporate I’ve been expecting. I’ve got to skedaddle.” He smiled into my eyes before sliding back his chair and standing up. “I don’t want you worrying over this anymore, Maggie. The police will get to the bottom of it; they’re the professionals, you know.”
“I know.”
He playfully touched the end of my nose, his deeply tanned face breaking into a wide grin. “So I want you to promise me you won’t give it another thought.”
“I promise.” I fake-smiled back at him and for the
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