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“Taking it to the hotel and dumping it in the trash. This little gem right here is five hundred bucks an ounce all day long.” She dumped the rest of the women’s cosmetics and creams inside. “Poor little Jillian is going to have to restock her skincare essentials.”

With a quick check to make sure there weren’t any other clues hinting at a woman’s presence, they swung by the kitchen.

The cupboards were bare except for an assortment of instant oatmeal packets and an unopened bag of expired rice cakes. The fridge was empty except for a six-pack of beer and a case of Diet Coke. A chilled bottle of Dom Perignon sat next to the sodas.

Birdie snagged it off the shelf and handed it to Eryn.

“We’re taking the champagne?”

“Sure. Why not? I want Robert to know someone was here. In fact, I hope Renaldo tells him we were inside the apartment. Maybe he’ll start sweating a little.”

Backtracking, Birdie and Eryn headed to the elevator. Reaching the main level, they stopped by the security desk to let the guard know they were on their way out.

“You did not find what you needed?”

“I…uh. We had trouble finding the script. We called Harlow and wouldn’t you know it? She remembers leaving it at her home in Malibu,” Eryn fibbed.

Renaldo’s eyes grew round as saucers. “You will be traveling all the way to California to pick up the manuscript?”

Aunt Birdie glanced at her watch. “Maybe. I mean, the West Coast is three hours behind us. We could make it by early evening if we time it right.”

The security guard shook his head in disbelief. “These actors and actresses. To me, this is crazy.”

The women thanked him for letting them in and casually strolled out of the building. Finding the women’s skincare products in the main bathroom might not have been a slam dunk, but at least they were on the right track.

Chapter 13

The first thing Aunt Birdie did when they reached the hotel room was check in with Harlow to let her know what they’d found. She lined the skincare products along the counter and set the expensive bottle of champagne next to it. After snapping a photo, she texted a copy to her niece.

“I have you on speaker and am standing next to Eryn. This is what we found.”

“Those skincare products aren’t mine and I don’t drink champagne.”

“I figured as much. It was in the fridge, along with a case of Diet Coke and some cans of beer. The skincare stuff was on the main bathroom counter.”

“I don’t use that brand of moisturizer,” Harlow said. “What about other personal items, clothes, shoes, jewelry?”

“Nothing, other than a few items in your closet, wrapped in plastic,” Eryn said. “I know you keep your clothes in bags when you aren’t around.”

“I do,” Harlow confirmed. “Robert has his own closet. Did you find his clothes inside?”

“His clothes and two suitcases, more like carry-on bags. We saw a few pairs of dress slacks and silks shirts,” Eryn said. “From the looks of things, he doesn’t plan on sticking around New York for long.”

“He never does. Robert likes to keep moving,” Harlow said. “As far as the skincare stuff, what will you do with it?”

“Toss it in the trash or maybe leave it for the hotel’s housekeeping staff. Some of this stuff hasn’t been opened.” Birdie rattled off the name brand. “Ever heard of Clé de Peau Beauté?”

“I have. The brand costs over a thousand bucks an ounce,” Harlow said.

“The glass jars are pretty, almost like works of art. Maybe we should toss the contents and keep the containers.”

“Do whatever you want with it. So…what’s the plan for the rest of your day?”

“Eryn and I are going to pop the top on the champagne and celebrate the success of our mission,” Birdie joked.

“Robert will be furious.”

“As furious as you are to find out he cancelled your credit cards and emptied one of your bank accounts?” she pointedly asked.