Page 60 of The Maid's Secret

“Thanks for coming,” said Stark as she closed her door behind us and collapsed into her desk chair with an audible thud. “I don’t get it,” she continued. “I’ve reviewed the footage; I’ve interviewed all the guests who attended the auction. I’ve talked to the hotel staff and interrogated the entireHidden Treasurescrew.”

“What did you learn?” Angela asked.

“That people in reality TV are as dim as blown bulbs. Apart from that, not much,” she said.

“I’ve been racking my brains to figure out what happened,” said Angela. “I’ve rewatched every heist doc I’ve ever seen, and I still can’t crack it.”

“Now listen, Molly,” Detective Stark said. “Let’s not give up hope just yet. I want you and Angela to be vigilant at the hotel. If you see something suspicious, report it to me right away—understood?”

“Certainly,” I replied.

“Yes, ma’am!” said Angela with a concerning amount of zeal.

“And, Molly? For what it’s worth, I know it’s a blow that the egg was stolen, but I doubt you’re in real danger,” Stark reassured me. “Whoever wrote that note was just trying to scare us all into giving up the search. But we’re not going to let fear stop us, right?”

“Right,” Angela replied. “We’ll peer into every corner. We’ll leave no stone unturned. We’ll go over everything with a forensic fine-tooth comb!”

We left the precinct soon after Angela’s litany of investigational metaphors, making our way back to the hotel. I expected to simply resume work, but Angela had other ideas. She convinced Mr.Snow to put her in charge of a top-to-toe hotel search to uncover the egg or any clues to its whereabouts. To my surprise, Mr.Snow agreed, putting the headwaiter in charge of the Social while Angela played amateur sleuth.

Angela asked that I be even more thorough than usual as I cleaned guest rooms, searching corners, closets, and drawers for “hidden inculpatory evidence,” as she called it. I told her I would, then I headed upstairs to do my job as a maid, which, I can tell you, has given me great joy all week long. I worked alongside Cheryl, and remarkably, she tested my patience only once—when she used a guest’s freshly cleaned toilet for her personal urinary purposes.

“It won’t kill you to disinfect that toilet bowl again,” I said when she emerged from the bathroom.

“My death is not the one you should be worried about right now,” Cheryl shot back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Someone threatened your life, Molly. Watch your back. There’s no shortage of crazies out there, you know.”

“Thank you for your concern,” I said curtly.

For the rest of the afternoon, I tried to forget my fears—and Cheryl’s not-so-veiled threat—but every time I opened a guest’s closet or swept under a bed, I imagined a hidden culprit reaching out to grabme.

Now, my shift has finally come to an end, and I’m perfectly unharmed. I’m standing outside the gold revolving doors of the hotel, waiting for Juan so we can walk home together.

“There you are,” I hear behind me.

“Juan,” I say, “how was your day?”

“I’ve had better,” he replies. “A tornado hit this afternoon.”

“A tornado?”

Speedy bounds over and joins our conversation. “You mean Angela, right?”

“Exactly,” says Juan. “In her search for clues to the missing egg, which is now long gone, she made us clear out every cupboard, freezer, and drawer in the kitchen.”

“Did you find anything?” I ask.

“A long-lost carton of salt and pepper shakers, two spatulas, and your doorman’s cap, Speedy.”

“Sick! I’ve been looking for it all week,” Speedy replies. “For the record, Angela tornadoed me, too. She got up in my junk, searching my pockets and my podium. Didn’t find nothing, cuz I’m mean and I’m clean.”

“Speaking of clean, Molly, the kitchen is a mess. I’ve still got to put everything back in the cupboards,” says Juan. “It’ll take me another hour. Do you want to wait?” He watches me, knowing that since the death threat, I’ve been worried about walking alone.

“I can make my own way home, thank you very much,” I say, full of bravado I don’t actually feel.

“Are you sure?” Juan asks, staring at me with his kind brown eyes.