Part 44 (1/2)
”What?”
”The man, who deliver the flowers yesterday...”
”I heard you.” Dropping her cereal in the sink, she flung herself off the counter and raced for the front of the hotel...
... unfortunately forgetting the section of tacky polyurethane she had to cross.
”Fruitcake!”
The emotional force behind the subst.i.tute expletive transfigured the toaster and the smell of candied fruit soaked in rum rose briefly over the prevailing chemicals.
Jacques studied the cake thoughtfully. ”What would have happened, I wonder, had you actually used that old Anglo-Saxon expletive with you and I here together?”
”Do you have to!” Claire snapped, loosened her laces, pulled power, and floated to the hall, leaving her shoes where they were stuck.
”Not exactly have to,” Jacques murmured.
As Claire ran for the lobby, the deliveryman ducked out from behind the counter, holding what seemed to be the same bouquet of red mums. ”I was just lookin' for a piece of paper,” he said hurriedly. ”The boss said I could leave the flowers, and I was gonna leave you a note.”
He was lying. Unfortunately, unless she knew for certain he was a threat to the site, Claire couldn't force him to tell the truth.
OH. WHY NOT?” asked the little voice in her head. ”WHO'S GOING TO KNOW? YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.”
”Shut. Up.” Claire held her hand out for the flowers. ”I'll see that Ms. Moore gets these,” she said aloud.
”Sure.” Watching her warily, he backed along the edge of the counter toward the door, reaching behind him for the handle. He slipped out, still without turning, and paused, peering through the crack just before the door closed. Yellowing teeth showed for an instant in an unpleasant smile. ”Give Ms. Moore my regards.”
Setting the flowers down, Claire glanced into the office, but nothing seemed to have been disturbed. ”Yeah, well, we'll see about that.” Ducking under the counter, she lifted her backpack off a hook and rummaged around in the outer pocket. A few moments later, she pulled out the tattered remains of what had once been a large package of grape flavored crystals and poured what was left of the contents onto the palm of one hand.
”Sorry your shoes got stuck to the floor. Boss. I figured you'd notice it was still...” Dean's voice faded out in shocked disbelief as he watched Claire fling a fistful of purple powder into the air.
The powder hung for a heartbeat, a swirling purple cloud with added vitamin C, then it settled into a confused jumble of foot and handprints leading from the front door into the office and back to the door again. A fair bit of the powder settled around the flower stems.
”What a mess,” Claire sighed. ”This tells me nothing except that he was in here and I knew that already.”
”Who?”
”The flower deliveryman. I was trying to find out what he was up to.”
”With...” Dean rubbed a bit of the residue onto the end of a finger and sniffed it. ”... grape Koolaid?”
”Actually, it's generic. Why waste name brands if you're just going to throw it around?”
”Okay.” He pulled a folded tissue from his pocket and carefully wiped his finger. ”I'll start cleaning this up.”
”Great. I need coffee.”
”The floor...”
”I know.” A careful two inches above the purple, she floated down the hall.