Page 51 of All You Want
“Knowing the outside is not the same as knowing the heart.” I turn toward the inside of the room, making sure to note the locations of the windows.
“Why should I do what you say?” She steps into the room and throws her purse on one of the richly brocaded settees.
“Police protection.” I wander to the window and check out the latching mechanism.
“You’re taking your undercover work too seriously,” she says in a mocking tone. “Lighten up, Todd. It’ll be okay. We also have Al, Dillon, and Justin patrolling the perimeter. Want me to shift them around too?”
“Good idea. Rotate them and mix it up. That way, if anyone’s scoping this place, they won’t know who is security and who’s a party guest.”
“You’re too paranoid.” She rolls her eyes. “No one’s watching.”
“You’ve forgotten the raccoon and the warning?”
She touches my upper arm and leans against me. “No, which is why you’re here to protect me. Although nothing’s happened lately, and I’m sure it’s a local prank. Everyone gets a dead critter in the mailbox at some point.”
That’s true enough, along with railroad spikes through their doors, and twisted wire sculptures on their porches. I hope my mother isn’t mixed up in this. She’s one of those deliberately homeless artists who sells their creations to backwoods souvenir shops and wanders around picking up inspiration while leaving her “mark.”
“You were pretty freaked out when you called me,” I remind her. “Tell you what. If you switch Chad and Randy, I won’t bug you about it. I’m going to be in costume anyway, so I can keep an eye on the party.”
“Keep an eye, my foot.” Tami stomps in front of me with her hands on her hips. “I told Linx I have a mystery date, and I plan on having your attention on me all night.”
“I’m not going to argue with that.” I turn away from her, not wanting her to catch the flush on my face.
All night? I can go for that, but at the same time, I heard what she’d said when she was tossing on the bed in Baja Angel’s room. She didn’t want to keep me under wraps. If I get in too deep, she’ll want to expose us.
She doesn’t understand why I can’t let her father get his hooks into me.
“Do you like the way I decorated this suite?” Tami takes my hand and leads me around Madam Goldilocks’s Boudoir. We stop in front of a bay window with a window seat. It faces the back of the property, well away from the parking area, giving enough privacy to keep the drapes open.
“You put in a lot of details. I like it.” I scan the overall effect and nod appreciatively. Strangely, I can see myself sitting on one of the armchairs in front of the fire. It’s not as rustic as my cabin, but it’s the perfect apartment for someone like Tami who might want to move out of her family’s home.
As if she knows what I’m thinking, she says, “I picked everything for Madam Goldilocks’s Boudoir myself. It’s quite a nice apartment and separate enough from the rest of the guest rooms. I even commissionedThe Three Bearsartwork over the fireplace. Like it?”
“I do.” Everything about it feels like Tami with her bright blue eyes and corn silk hair. I can picture her as the original Miss Goldilocks, presiding over her business in front of the large bay window with the view toward the mountain peaks.
The light-blue wallpaper is newly hung but of the vintage Victorian style. The velvet drapes are royal blue, and two comfortable settees are arranged in front of the fireplace lit with a small crackling fire.
The antique wooden table with its slender and gracefully curved legs is set for two, and the wooden floor is covered with a peacock-blue and green patterned Aubusson rug.
“I can see you living here instead of renting this out. Just like the original owner.” I pull out a chair for her when we take our seats in front of the dining table.
“I’ll take your advice under consideration.” She leans back as Monica serves us a beet salad with goat cheese and arugula, garnished with slivered almonds.
“No spiders?” I pick through it after Monica retreats. “I’m disappointed.”
Tami giggles, covering her mouth. “I’m not saying you won’t be surprised, but for a distrusting man, you’re pretty naïve.”
I peer at the vinaigrette dressing and wonder about the small particles—pepper and herbs or spider legs?
“Why should I trust you?” I sweep the cheese crumbles aside and spear one of the beets. It bleeds a reddish sauce, and I almost drop it.
Again, Tami giggles, and I feel like I’ve dropped down a rabbit hole.
“What’s so funny?” I force myself to eat the slice of red beet.
“Go ahead, swallow it.” She smiles with her eyes and twirls her fork. “That’s a good boy. Now that you’ve eaten of my red beets with the blood orange dressing, you’re trapped in my heart forever.”
It’s too late to spit it out. She’s right. I’ve swallowed already, but I don’t see or taste anything strange. She’s playing with me. It’s all part of the act for her Harrowing Haunts Hotel show.
