He crouched and looked under the big sink. A shard of glass sparked in the shadows. He picked it up.
And sucked in a sharp, hissing breath when the flash of raw emotion arced through him. He shut down his senses and got to his feet.
Lyra studied the sliver of glass. “Do you think it’s a piece of the missing water glass?”
“Yes. It was shattered. I think whoever was surprised by the intruder tried to use it as a weapon. If the person was successful, there may be blood.”
“Not if someone cleaned up afterward, and that’s what appears to have happened. Whoever it was used the towels.”
“Probably.” Simon looked around. “But in my experience, killers rarely manage to get rid of all of the blood, especially if they’re working in a hurry.”
Lyra froze. “Killers?”
He grimaced. “Sorry. I was speaking of some past investigations I’ve handled.”
He found the small brownish splatters underneath the claw-footed bathtub.
“She drew some blood, all right,” he said.
“Raina?”
“Whoever was in this room was fighting for her life,” Simon said evenly. “But I don’t think anyone was murdered in here.”
“Then what happened?”
“Given what little information we’ve got, I think there’s a possibility that the guest who was booked into this room was kidnapped.”
Lyra’s eyes widened in shock. “That makes no sense, not if Raina was the person in this room. She has some money of her own, but there’s no wealthy family to pay ransom. No family at all—” She broke off on a soft gasp. “Luther Pell. He’s not family, but it’s no secret he and Raina are a couple. Pell has a lot of money.”
“A kidnapper would have to be a complete fool to send a ransom note to Pell. Talk about dining with the devil.”
“You’re right,” Lyra said. “Mr. Pell is a very dangerous man. They say he has mob connections.”
“He does.”
“But it’s possible whoever took her doesn’t know that.”
“It’s also possible ransom is not the goal here,” Simon said. Hetossed the shard of glass into the trash basket. “This could be about something else besides money. Let’s get out of here.”
He turned off the lights and went through the doorway into the main room. Lyra followed.
He walked around the bed and cracked open the door. There was no one in the hallway.
“All clear,” he said quietly.
He heard the dressing table drawer open. He quickly closed the door and turned around in time to see Lyra reach into the drawer and remove a piece of paper.
“What did you find?” he asked.
“It’s a list of spa appointments for yesterday afternoon, the day that Miss Granville checked in to the resort. A massage, a facial, and the steam room.”
“Assuming Raina was using the name Granville, why would she waste time in the spa? She came here to meet someone.”
“She may have decided she had to book a few appointments in order to keep her cover story intact,” Lyra said. “A woman who checked into an expensive resort that specializes in exotic beauty therapies and didn’t take advantage of the facilities would cause people to ask questions.”
“Maybe.”
Lyra glanced at the schedule. “This is interesting. Next to the wordsVioletHerbalFacialthere’s a note:Request Miss Frampton.”
