Page 24 of Cougar Point

I pause for a moment. “What about the couple you and Connie saw that night?”

Her brow wrinkles in confusion. “What couple?”

I tell her about the pair Connie told me about: the guy with acne and the drunk woman who might have been Victoria Marsh.

“Oh, that,” Missy says airily, like she forgot to put the milk back in the fridge. “Yeah, that was just a couple of drunks. I don’t think that’s anything to do with this. I didn’t really get that good a look at them.”

“Connie said the man had a lot of acne, do you remember that?”

She shrugs. “Didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“Can you remember anything at all? Clothing? Shoes? Anything else?”

She frowns, to show me she’s thinking Really Hard. “He had some kind of jacket with a hood. I can’t tell you anything more than that.”

“What about the woman?”

She shakes her head. “Just drunk. Light-colored hair. I had the impression she was white. I can’t tell you how old or anything. I just caught a glimpse.”

“Could the woman have been Mrs. Marsh?” I ask.

She answers quickly. “I didn’t get a good look, like I said. I just kind of glanced at them because he was almost carrying her out.” She gives Rebecca an odd look and once again I wonder what Rebecca has done to earn her dislike. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

She doesn’t look sorry. “Thanks, Missy,” I give her a card and get her contact information. “Can you tell Mr. Whiting to send someone else back?”

“There’s no one else, but I’ll tell Roger.” Missy leaves, and Rebecca sits again but she’s still fuming.

“I’ve never liked her and now I remember why.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“She’s one of those people who hates people she thinks are rich. I don’t for one minute believe what she said about my mom. And why wouldn’t she tell us about the man and woman going out of the back door in the first place?” Good question. “Part of her job is to keep the guests safe and report anything or anyone that might be a problem. This is a nice resort. I don’t care what she says that kind of behavior doesn’t happen here.”

“Connie saw them too,” I point out. “Did you see anyone matching their description while you were here?”

She thinks for a moment. “No. Not from the resort. But I may have seen someone like that man somewhere else. Let me think a moment.” She sits quietly and runs a finger around the mouth of her coffee mug and then looks up. “It was in Blaine. No, Birch Bay. Yes, it was at a little tourist shop. Mom and I stopped there before we came here. She never buys anything but she likes to look. I bought a water and this man came up behind me at the register. Mom was by the entrance. He winked at me and smiled at Mom and then left. I’d caught him looking at us several times while we were in there. He was creepy.”

“What makes you think it’s the same guy?”

“I mostly remember the acne. Except his were scars. When Ronnie and I were in high school, one of the boys had bad acne and the kids called him pizza face.”

“Okay. Let’s find Ronnie.”

NINETEEN

Ronnie is at the registration desk talking to Roger.

He says, “I’m sorry. I left strict instructions to leave that room alone.” He addresses Rebecca. “No one has been in there to my knowledge since you were here, Miss Marsh. No one has a key and I changed the code.”

Ronnie turns to me. “Someone has cleaned the room. The bed is made. New towels. It smells strongly of disinfectant. Mom’s toiletries are in the bathroom. Her bags are still there and her clothes are in the closet.”

Rebecca asks, “Was there a champagne bottle on the dresser?” and Ronnie shakes her head. “Was there a champagne bucket?”

“No. Did you see one when you were looking for her, sis?”

Roger says, “I gave strict orders. No one was to go in the room. I guess one of the cleaning staff didn’t get the word.”

And there goes the champagne bottle and any other evidence of who was in the room.

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