Page 19 of Cougar Point

“Miss Marsh. Your money is no good here. Let me see.” Again his eyes drift to the ceiling. “Let’s see. Connie is here this morning. She cleaned and resupplied your rooms both nights. And then there’s the night manager.”

Ronnie says, “I’d like them to come in if that’s doable. They might remember more in person.”

“Of course. I’ll arrange it. And I’ll be here if you need me.”

Take-charge Ronnie says, “I’ll need the key to the room. And we’ll need a place to do the interviews.”

Roger hands Ronnie a brass key. “You can use Packer’s Cafe for the interviews. I’ll have someone come and make you coffee or whatever you need. I don’t think there are any guests in there, but if they are, you can use the conference room on the second floor.” He gives her a key card.

Rebecca puts her hand over Roger’s. “Thank you, Roger. This means a lot to me.”

“It’s the least I can do. Mrs. Marsh will be fine. I’ll say a prayer for her and for you. Is there anything else?”

“Not this minute,” Rebecca says. “Send whoever you can find to Packer’s one at a time, please. I won’t forget your help.”

Roger blushes and gets on the phone to call his employees.

Ronnie says, “I’ll go to Mom’s room. Rebecca, you and Megan can interview the staff. Let Megan do the talking. When I’m done, I’ll find you at Packer’s.”

We agree. I’m not used to this side of Ronnie but I’m glad she’s running the show. It will give her something to do besides worry. And it will assure Rebecca that Ronnie is the right one for the job.

Ronnie says, “If I miss something, Megan, please jump in.”

“You’ve got this, Ronnie.”

“But if…?”

“You’re the boss.”

Ronnie heads for the stairs, and Rebecca leads me to Packer’s.

Packer’s is an upscale café. One entire wall is floor-to-ceiling glass looking out toward Drayton Bay. In the distance is a ramshackle building that reminds me of an abandoned timber mill. Rebecca says it was a salmon packing operation. Hence the name Packer’s, I guess. Roger was correct about the café being unused except for a lone man sitting by one of the windows banging away on a laptop like the keys are a whack-a-mole arcade game. He doesn’t even notice we’re there. He reminds me of one of those wannabe writers hanging around Starbucks, taking up a table and drinking free refills. I don’t recognize him so he’s probably no one. Then again, I don’t read a lot.

Rebecca pulls the velvet-encased barrier chain across the entrance and latches it. We’re stuck with the Pulitzer Prize guy but he’s off in his own world. If he wakes up, he’ll hopefully seethe chain up and leave. Or I can yell, “FIRE!” Nah. He’s actually kind of cute, in a nerdy way.

Rebecca and I take a table facing the entrance and wait. We don’t have to wait long before a middle-aged woman in an honest-to-God maid’s outfit, complete with white cap, sees us and ducks under the barrier.

“Connie?” I say, and she nods. Her expression is concerned, like she’s been called to the principal’s office or is being audited by the IRS. I stand and take her hand. “Let me assure you that you’re not in any trouble. We just want to ask some questions.” She doesn’t relax. I try again and soften my expression with a smile. “I’m Detective Carpenter and this is Rebecca Marsh. Have a seat.”

“I remember you, Connie,” Rebecca says. “Thank you for coming so quick.”

Connie sits and I can hardly shut her up. The only pertinent information she has is that she cleaned Victoria’s room on Friday somewhere around two in the afternoon. She cleaned it extra special because they all knew who Victoria was. She kept sneaking shy glances at Rebecca as if she were in the presence of royalty. She said she was instructed not to clean the room later by the manager and hasn’t been in the room since.

My gut tells me there’s more and she’s covering it with her incessant chatter. “Connie, it’s very important for you to be straight with us. Did you see anyone come or go from that room?”

She looks down and I can barely hear her response.

“Can you say that again?”

Rebecca says, “It’s okay to tell us, Connie. My mom is missing and anything you know might help.”

She peeks at me and then looks down again. “I clean the rooms starting just before noon but Mrs. Marsh is always up early and having breakfast with you.” She looks at Rebecca.“That morning I thought she wouldn’t mind if I straightened up a bit so I went in and cleaned. Then a few hours later Roger said to leave the room alone.”

“Did you know my mom was missing?” Rebecca asks, and then looks at me. “Sorry.”

“Go ahead and answer, Connie,” I say.

“Not then. I told you I cleaned the room around two o’clock, but it was before noon. Roger doesn’t want us in the guest’s rooms before noon. And when Roger told me not to go in the room, I thought maybe I’d done something wrong, so I didn’t tell him I’d already been in there. When I found out from Roger that she was missing, I kept quiet. I was afraid I’d messed up something. I’d get fired if I did something that was evidence or whatever. I’m real real sorry. I hope you find your mom, Miss Marsh. She’s such a sweetheart to all of us.”

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