Perfect Cover by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

TRAPPED!

There was no way to explain our presence in Kyle McMahon’s room. Somehow, I had the feeling “Whoops, we thought this was our room!” just wouldn’t cut it.

I dug an elbow into George’s ribs and pointed to the bed. She nodded and we both dove for the carpet. We wriggled our way under the bed on our bellies, like commandos. There was a terrible moment when my jeans pocket snagged on something sticking out of the bed frame, but then I heard a little rip and I was free. I slid forward another few inches and pulled my feet in under the dust ruffle.

Not a second too soon! I was facing in the direction of the door, and I saw the triangle of light from the hallway fall on the carpet as the door opened. I also heard Kyle McMahon’s voice as he entered the room.

“I don’t understand why you’re bringing this problem to me, Carole,” he was saying, apparently talking on his phone. There was an edge in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “Production is your department, not mine. If the stuff hasn’t arrived, get on the phone and find out where it is. I don’t want excuses, I want product in the stores! We’ve got numbers we have to hit, or we’re both in trouble.”

I watched his feet move over to the desk. There was a gentle thud; he must have been putting stuff down on the desktop. Maybe his laptop? A lot of good that would do George and me, trapped under the bed!

“Look, this conversation is a waste of my time. And between the pageant and the new offices downtown, not to mention my regular workload, time is not something I have to waste right now. As we discussed in this morning’s staff meeting.” Kyle exhaled heavily. “Just fix it, Carole. Do whatever you have to do. Perfect Face is our biggest hit ever, and we cannot mess it up. Not acceptable. I don’t care if you have to fly to Caracas and pick the stuff up yourself—just get it. All right?”

Under the bed, George and I looked at each other. Caracas? That was a city in Venezuela— where Anna was supposed to have gone. Was there a connection there?

“Right,” Kyle said into the phone. “No, not tonight—I’ve got a dinner at seven and the Club Mirador party after that. Send me an e-mail and let me know. Right. Talk to you tomorrow.”

After he hung up, he sighed again and walked toward the bathroom. The light went on and we heard water running in the sink. That would have been the perfect time for us to make our escape. But unfortunately the bathroom was right between us and the room door, and there was no way to get past it without being spotted. So we stayed put.

The water shut off and Kyle walked back into the bedroom. I heard the beep of his cell phone as he punched in a number. “Hi, Marsha, it’s Kyle. Could you messenger six more press packets to the hotel? I need them here in an hour.

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