The Tourist is Toast by Carly Winter

Author:Carly Winter [Winter, Carly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Westward Publishing

Chapter Eleven

I spent the next morning cleaning Darla's apartment and Jack made the call to shut down the diner when he noticed a roach scurrying across the floor. The employees were rightfully furious, but Jack felt he had to protect Darla and her livelihood, and frankly, I agreed. Until her mother arrived and made some hard decisions, we were going on instinct.

While mopping, vacuuming, and scrubbing, I tried to mind my own business. I truly did. But when I dropped a stack of books and found a diary, I had to take a peek. Tears came to my eyes as I tried to decipher the gibberish. I hoped she found the help she needed and got well soon.

In the afternoon, Ruby and I stood in front of the Sedona Grand Hotel, my palms sweaty, my chest aching with anxiety. How in the world had I allowed her to badger me into this plan?

With the hotel’s white pillars and large windows. I had to admit, Ruby was right. I understood why it reminded her of a mausoleum.

“When I was alive, you wouldn't catch me dead in here,” she muttered. “Bunch of pretentious jerks sitting around talking about golf and the stock market. Now that I'm dead, I'm actually walking through the doors.” She let out a long sigh. “The things I do for you.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Ruby, don't you dare try to make this about me. You’re so excited to do this, you couldn't hide that smile if you tried.”

“But it is about you,” she said. “Adam’s only going to fall more in love with you than he already is when he finds out you’re a regular Columbo.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I muttered. “Adam’s not in love with me.”

“Of course he is, dingbat,” she said glancing down at her mumu. “I sure feel underdressed for our adventure, though. I need a trench coat and a fedora like Columbo.”

I felt the same way, even though I'd worn the only blouse I owned instead of a T-shirt. But with my jeans and sneakers, I didn't fit in. Those entering the establishment wore tennis skirts, slacks, and dresses. I didn't belong, and I had no problem with that. I wanted to get in and out without an issue. “Just a little reminder—no one but me can see you. The trench coat and fedora wouldn’t be noticed.”

“Then give me a gun like in Charlie's Angels. I can already kick butt with my fists.” Ruby with a gun would be a disaster of epic proportions and watching her punch the air and swing and kick her legs MMA style with her purple mumu flowing around definitely amused me. I stifled a giggle.

“How about if we just go inside before I change my mind?” I asked.

“Lead the way! I'm going to put James Bond to shame!”

As I strode in through the front door, Ruby trailed behind me humming the theme song to the Streets of San Francisco. The fact that I recognized it only indicated I needed to watch more television made in my lifetime instead of hers.

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