Biker's Virgin
She returned my smile tentatively and sat down opposite me. I kept filtering through the feed, rewinding and stopping as I went while Molly explained what we were trying to do.
“There’s another surveillance system in place?” Alani asked in surprise.
“It was put in place to check the staff,” Ben explained. “Oftentimes staff can bypass the cameras if they’re familiar enough with the positions. Tristan decided that it would come in handy one day.”
“And, I think it just did,” I said as I paused on a blurry image of a man right outside Alani’s door. “Alani, can you come here and ID this man for me, please?”
Alani walked around to stand behind my shoulder, and Molly did the same. As Alani’s eyes hit the screen, they went wide with shock.
“What is it?” Molly asked, noticing her reaction.
“I… It’s… That’s Simon,” Alani said.
“Simon?” Ben said, walking around to look at the screen.
“One of the waiters?” I asked.
“Yes,” Molly nodded. “He works between the Lagoon and Mosaic.”
“He planted the necklace in my room?” Alani said. “But…”
“He was obviously bribed,” Ben said. “Someone paid him to do it.”
“And, we all know exactly who that someone is,” I said, standing up. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” Ben asked.
“To the Beaumonts’ suite,” I said. “Ben, have someone bring Simon up to their suite, as well. We’re going to handle this head on.”
Molly seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and gave me an encouraging smile. I noticed Alani, still staring at the screen.
“Alani,” I said.
“Yes, Mr. Dubois?”
“You’re a loyal employee,” I said. “And, you’ve been doing great work at the resort. I want you to know that as long as I’m in charge, I will always protect my employees.”
She looked at me with obvious relief. “Thank you, sir.”
“Please,” I said. “Call me Tristan.”
I walked out with Molly, and I could see the admiration and pride on her face. She was looking at me as though I were her hero, and for some reason that made me oddly uncomfortable. When we got to the Beaumonts’ suite, I knocked hard, and a moment later the door swung open.
Mrs. Beaumont was a skinny woman with white blonde hair and a forehead that didn’t move. She was wearing an all-white ensemble, and her lips were painted a shocking red. Her eyes widened when she saw me.
“Mr. Dubois,” she said. “I didn’t expect to find you at my door.”
“Is your husband here, Mrs. Beaumont?” I asked.
“He is,” she nodded. “Have you come about the matter with the maid who stole my choker?”
“Uh…she’s not a maid,” I corrected. “She’s a manager at the resort. And yes, I have come to discuss that matter. This is Molly; she’s head of human resources here.”
Mrs. Beaumont gave Molly a curt nod and held the door open for both of us to pass through. Mr. Beaumont was lying on the couch, stuffing his face with a bag of chips from the mini bar. I tried to control my expression of disgust as I faced him.
“Mr. Beaumont,” I said as he straightened up. “I’ve come about the matter with the choker.”
“Have you found it?” he asked.