Powdered Murder

"Where have you been? Franco and Bebe are already here. I would've thought that my fiancé would be the first person to check up on me." Lila scolded Patrick the second he walked through the door. Her eyes looked at me suspiciously. Her skin was puffy like she'd been crying and her hair was damp. She was wearing silk pajamas with no bra. Lila was slender enough that she probably didn't need one, but I couldn't help but cringe every time she leaned forward or back and revealed a little too much of her chest.

"Now, Lila." Franco stepped out of her bathroom where he was splashing cold water on his face. He too was wearing his pajamas. "Relax, darling." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Breathe in and breathe out."

"I only just got in," Patrick replied calmly.

As I stepped inside Lila's suite, I glanced at the overturned coffee table in the sitting area, the ripped fabric on the furniture, and the tornado of clothes that looked like they blasted through her closet and across the entire room. Bebe stood up from the formal sitting area and began picking up the mess.

"Bebe," I shouted. The volume of my voice took her by surprise and she gasped.

"Good Lord, Essie." Bebe placed a hand on her heart. "I was only trying to help. You never know with these maid services sometimes." She briefly looked at Joy. "No offense, but every hotel has its quirks."

"Don't touch anything until I have had time to look around," I replied.

"You brought her to investigate?" Lila questioned my sister. "Where are the police? I demand that this be properly looked into."

"They are on their way," Joy said politely. The way she kept a smile on her face while she was continuously being insulted was impressive. She was just as good of an actress as Lila. Maybe even better.

"See if you can pull up some security camera footage," I whispered to Joy. She nodded and took a step towards the door.

"Why don't you uh . . .?” I looked at Patrick and tilted my head away from the vandalism in the main entrance to her room.

"Right." Patrick put his arm around Lila and led her towards the dining area of her suite. Lila sat down at the table while Patrick poured her a glass of water.

"I need something stronger than that, babe." She pushed the water glass aside and watched Patrick as he looked through the mini bar. "Bebe, mix me one of those cocktail things that you always make."

"Sure," she agreed.

I slowly examined Lila's suite starting with the entryway. Her room was in a small hallway with only four other suites. The entryway was paved with shiny wood floors and a side table that once had a vase of wildflowers in it. The vase was laying in pieces on the floor now. Past the entryway was the sitting area and the bathroom where Lila was supposedly showering when the mishap occurred.

I studied the furniture in the sitting area. The sofas had been ripped and stuffing was all over the floor. I leaned in and looked closely at the tears in the cushions. They were perfectly straight as if the knife had followed a dotted line. The stuffing was scattered all around the room. Some of it even reached as far as the bathroom and dining area. Places that were far from the couch itself.  A clump of fuzz was even spread across the corner of a landscape painting hanging on the wall. It reminded me of putting up fake cobwebs for Halloween. Lila's clothes had been thrown from her closet and spread around the room. Unlike the mutilated couch cushions, her clothes hadn't been maimed or torn in any way.

Deeper into the suite was the bedroom. It was situated close to the windows overlooking the mountains. The mattress had been kicked off its frame and the headboard had been scratched and destroyed. The perpetrator definitely had a knife. I checked the windows and didn't find any signs that they had been tampered with. The locks on the front door also appeared to be intact. No scruffs or broken hinges.

"Lila," I said casually. "Are you sure you didn't see who did this? Not even the back of his head?"

"No," she said abruptly. "If I had then that person would be in jail right now." She rubbed her temples and gulped down Bebe's homemade cocktail. "I was in the shower and all of a sudden I heard banging. So I jumped out thinking that maybe one of the maids had come in for some reason. But when I saw the broken vase in the entryway, I locked myself in the bathroom. I'm not a complete idiot. I know how these break-ins can go."

"We never said you were," Bebe said gently. "Here, drink some water."

"Luckily, I had just been texting Franco before I got into the shower so my phone was with me in the bathroom," she continued. "I called him, but he'd heard the noises and was already on his way to check on me. By the time he got here, whoever it was had already gone."

"Did you hear voices or shouting?" I asked. "Did anyone try to force open the bathroom door?"

"No." She narrowed her eyes when she looked at me. "You're awfully nosey for a girl who works at the gym."

"Lila," Patrick spoke up.

"What? I didn't mean it in a rude way." She took a sip of the water that Bebe offered her. Franco wandered around the room looking panicked when his eyes fell on each wrinkled dress that would need to be washed and pressed all over again.

"I'm calling it," Franco stated, holding up his hands. "I have to clean up this mess or it is going to drive me crazy." He paced back and forth counting his steps as he did.

"Not until the police get here," Patrick instructed.

"I don't see how it matters," Lila said, gulping down a second drink of something strong. "I already know who did it. The same guy who keyed my car last summer and sent me a chicken head in the mail."

"Oh dear." Bebe covered her mouth with a look of disgust on her face.

"Some psycho fan who is obsessed with me." She waved at Bebe to mix her another drink.

"Now, Lila," Franco addressed her. "You don't know that it was that particular stalker. We get loads of threats a week."

"You do?" My eyes widened. I would be an obsessive paranoid basket case if I had received just one threat of any kind, let alone hundreds. No wonder she needed the pills.

"It comes with the fame," she admitted. "It's the bit that the magazines leave out."

"Franco is right," Bebe agreed. "It could have been anyone, but I'm sure they'll catch the guy since it's such a small town, right?" Bebe looked to me for reassurance.

"Of course," I replied.

"No," Lila disagreed. "The crazy bastard sent me a note before we left L.A. I didn't think he would figure out where we were going and that we were pla

Murray and his father, Sheriff Williams, knocked as they entered the room. Murray glanced around the room with his fingers looped casually in his belt loops. He nodded as his eyes darted from the overturned tables to the mutilated furniture.

"Yep," Murray observed. "Definitely a break in."

I rolled my eyes.

Murray's father stepped past him and approached Lila to shake her hand. Sheriff Ronald Williams was smarter than his son. He had gray hair and a matching gray mustache that looked like it had seen serious action once upon a time. He was a retired train engineer who smoked as much as he breathed. Though he did know more about the law than his son did, Sheriff Williams wasn't very light on his feet. His feet sounded like two bricks of concrete smacking against the pavement when he came walking. He wasn't a terribly large man, but he was sturdy.