the side wall. She’d been in every suite in the hotel, but she couldn’t remember seeing a mirror like this one.
She stepped inside the closet. The mirror had a wooden frame, very polished. It was maybe two feet long and four feet wide. The more she thought about it, the more sure she became that this mirror wasn’t standard.
She looked out to make sure she was alone, then peered at the side of the mirror. It was at least two inches in depth, which made her think that perhaps it wasn’t for looking in so much as it was for hiding things.
With held breath, she pulled on the left side, then the right. Nothing budged. She let her fingers trail around the entire frame. She felt a break in the upper right corner. Tugging did nothing, so instead, she pushed. Something gave, although it didn’t open.
The push gave her hope, though. She had a friend in Toronto who built secret-compartment boxes, and with her love of puzzles, Mia had found them endlessly fascinating. The important part of puzzle boxes was that at least two mechanisms had to be manipulated concurrently to release a catch.
Mia stood on tiptoe to study the break in the frame. She tugged, pushed and lifted in every way she could think of when the frame popped open.
Her sigh was loud in the little closet and she’d already stayed too long, so she swung the mirror out, expecting jewelry or drugs or both.
What she got were memory cards. The kind that went inside digital cameras. Lots and lots of memory cards.
She picked one up and saw that it was 256K. She turned the little electronic gizmo over and whoa, there it was. Initials written in a very small hand. BT.
She put that card back and picked up another, this one from a different stack. The initials on this one, PE.
In the next few minutes, she found many initials she couldn’t decipher. And many she could.
DA for Danny Austen.
GG for Gerry Geiger.
SG as in Sheila Geiger?
PD which might or might not be Piper Devon.
Mia’s already racing pulse went zooming out of control. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d found, but she knew, just knew, it was something important. She couldn’t even conceive of how many pictures were stored here. Thousands upon thousands.
Did one of these cards hold the key to Geiger’s murder? Was the killer none other than Oscar Weinberg?
She thought about taking the card with GG on the back, but she just couldn’t. There was no way she could justify stealing so blatantly. God forbid Weinberg kept an inventory and discovered the theft. Where would his finger point? Right at Yolanda, that’s where.
No, she and Bax would have to come up with another way to get these memory cards into evidence.
“Miss Mia?”
Mia jumped what felt like ten feet, then slammed the mirror closed. Thankfully, Yolanda was still in the other room. “Yes, Yolanda?”
“I finished the bedroom. You want to come check?”
“Thanks. I’ll be right there.”
THE PET FACILITIES WERE on the 20th floor, adjacent to the elaborate and expansive spa. Bax had to admit he was curious about the pet concierge. Dog walking? Puppy sitting? He’d never been to a hotel that had pet facilities, unless you count lawns. Of course, it had been years since he’d had a dog. That was one of his first priorities when he got to Boulder. He’d grown up with pets and he missed that. The companionship, the exercise. He’d be able to hike to his heart’s content in Boulder, a trusty mutt beside him.
He pushed the door open and walked into a world that was as outside his own reality as a movie set.
PetQuarters had a front desk, just like downstairs, barring his view to the pets, and a very attractive young woman wearing a modified Hush uniform holding one of Bobbi Tamony’s yappy dogs. He knew it was Bobbi’s because of the way his hackles rose hearing that bark.
“May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Mercy.”
The young woman sighed. “Aren’t we all.”
Bax laughed, but cut it short as the woman’s expression told him she meant that quite literally. He coughed, hoping to let the moment slide.
“Mercy should have been back ten minutes ago. And Eddy had to leave for class, and then Ms. Tamony came to deliver her dogs, and well, I’m kind of on my own, but if I can be of any assistance?”
“No, it’s fine. You have your hands full. I’ll come back later.”
“Would you like Mercy to give you a call? I can take your number.”
“No, but thanks.” He was curious about the parts of the puppy hotel he couldn’t see, but he’d explore it later. For now, he’d go see if Mia had some time for him. She’d been too busy a few minutes ago. He’d been tempted to just watch her as she did her thing, but he’d nixed that plan.
He waited around in the reception area, hoping Mercy would show up. Thinking about his interview with Henry Toth.
According to Toth, who he’d have mistaken for a panhandler if it hadn’t been for his very expensive cameras, Geiger had some very tight connections with both Bobbi and Danny Austen. That he knew for a fact that Geiger was tipped off by someone working for Weinberg. And that Gerry Geiger had just bought himself a hell of a nice duplex in Little Italy.
Toth also suggested that Geiger was more than a little fed up with his wife’s drinking.
The sad thing? That bunch of schoolyard gossip was the most he’d gotten from any of the paparazzi so far. They were a tight-lipped bunch of bottom-feeders.
It didn’t appear that Mercy the pet concierge was coming back anytime soon. As Bax rounded the corner toward the elevator he spotted a man in the spa window. He was hefty, balding, wearing a robe.
Bax went into the spa’s reception area, but the man was gone. There were two ladies looking at some cosmetics, one man who Bax had seen on some TV show, and the women behind the desk.
The woman closest to him, a little older than her compatriot, smiled at him. “May I help you?”
He pulled out his wallet and flashed his badge. “I need to know if Oscar Weinberg is inside the facility.”
“Yes, sir, he is.”
“Great. Which room?”
“He’s in the middle of a procedure at the moment.”
“I don’t mind.”
She looked at her coworker, then back at him. “Can you give me a minute, please? I honestly don’t know how to handle this situation and I’d like to ask someone.”
“Is this the only exit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take
