Scrub-a-dub Dead. Barbara Colley

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      The waitress nodded. “That’s correct. You can choose anything on the menu up to ten dollars.”

      With a concentrated frown, Charlotte stared at the menu. She didn’t recall anyone mentioning a limit.

      “Tea, coffee, and soft drinks are free to the staff,” the waitress added. “Why don’t you go ahead and look over the menu and I’ll be right back with your tea.”

      “I’ll go ahead and order,” Charlotte told her. “I want the shrimp po-boy.”

      “Dressed or undressed?”

      “Just the shrimp, lettuce, and tomatoes,” Charlotte replied. “No mayo or onions.” Lately, every time she’d eaten anything with onions she’d ended up with indigestion, and she didn’t need the extra fat or calories from the mayonnaise. “And please add extra lettuce and tomatoes.”

      “Okay, be back in a jiffy with your tea.”

      While she waited, Charlotte glanced around at the other tables. Most of the guests on the patio were women. Though their choice of clothes varied from slacks to dresses, the majority of them, like the ones seated inside the restaurant, wore a red scarf tied in a variety of ways around their necks. As far as Charlotte could tell, there were only two tables where the occupants weren’t wearing the signature scarves: three men in suits occupied a table near the doorway, and two scantily dressed young women were seated at the table next to hers.

      Both of the women wore short-shorts and halter tops and looked to be in their early-to-mid-twenties. One was blond, small, and petite, while the other had reddish brown hair, and though not exactly fat, she wasn’t exactly petite either.

      Pleasantly plump, Charlotte decided, her eyes narrowing. She couldn’t remember ever meeting the young woman, but there was a vaguely familiar look about her. And from the hostile glares passing back and forth between the two, neither woman was very happy about whatever they were discussing.

      Probably the heat, Charlotte decided. For those who weren’t used to the humid August heat, it sometimes played havoc with their emotions and tempers grew short.

      At that moment, Charlotte’s waitress reappeared, a tall glass of iced tea in hand. “Here you go,” she said, setting the glass in front of Charlotte. “Be back in a jiffy with your po-boy.”

      “Thanks,” Charlotte said.

      True to the waitress’s word, within minutes, she reappeared with Charlotte’s sandwich.

      “Enjoy,” the waitress quipped as she placed the plate in front of Charlotte.

      Charlotte smiled, her mouth watering at the sight and smell of the small loaf of French bread stuffed full of fried shrimp, lettuce, and tomatoes. “I intend to do just that,” she said.

      Savoring every delicious bite of the sandwich, Charlotte took her time eating. In between bites, she found her gaze returning to the two young women. Both seemed oblivious to their surroundings and the half-eaten sandwiches on their plates. Though Charlotte was unable to hear them very well, she figured that the blond one must have been winning the argument from the smug look on her face.

      Just as Charlotte finished the last bite of her sandwich, a young man approached her table.

      “I don’t mean to be rude or interrupt your meal, ma’am, but I noticed that you had finished eating. Since this place is so crowded and all, I was wondering if you’d mind if I claim your table? But only if you’re finished,” he hastened to add.

      Though Charlotte thought the request was indeed a bit rude, she nodded, took a last sip of her tea, blotted her mouth with her napkin, and then stood. “Be my guest,” she told him with a forced smile. “I have to get back to work anyway.”

      “Thanks.” Suddenly his gaze shifted to her left and Charlotte turned in time to see the young blonde who had been arguing with the other woman from the next table approach.

      “Christopher, what are you doing here?” she cried, clearly upset by his appearance. “How dare you follow me!”

      With a frown, Charlotte slowly backed away from the table.

      “Aw, Lisa, don’t be like that. Of course I’m going to follow you. I love you.”

      Lisa! Charlotte’s steps slowed even more. Was it possible? Could this young woman be the same husband-stealing hussy Lisa that Tessa and her Red Scarf sisters had been talking about earlier?

      “I told you it’s over,” Lisa snapped. “I’m engaged now.” She waved her left hand in front of his face. On her third finger was a diamond big enough to choke a horse. “This is stalking, and if you keep following me, I tell Frank, and he’ll have you arrested.”

      Oh, brother! Charlotte sighed, and with a shake of her head she turned and walked away. For some reason, she couldn’t seem to get away from these people and their problems.

      Later that afternoon Charlotte once again approached Tessa’s door. Wanting to give the woman plenty of time to get rid of her so-called migraine, she’d saved finishing up Tessa’s room for last.

      Charlotte glanced down at the doorknob just to make sure there wasn’t a DO NOT DISTURB sign. There wasn’t one, so she knocked and waited. Then, just to be on the safe side, she knocked again louder and said, “Housekeeping.” When there was no response, she opened the door with her master key and entered the room. One glance reassured her that the room was empty and also reassured her that it looked much the same as she’d left it. Since she’d already cleaned the bathroom earlier, she began by stripping the sheets off the beds.

      Minutes later, she’d just finished putting clean sheets on the second bed when she heard the key mechanism in the door click and the door swung open.

      Charlotte immediately recognized the swimsuit-clad young woman. She was the same one who had been arguing with Lisa in the restaurant.

      The young woman dropped her tote bag on the floor. “Hi, I’m Belinda,” she said. “This is my mom’s room.”

      Charlotte smiled. No wonder she’d looked familiar. She resembled a younger, plumper Joan Rivers with dark hair. “And I’m Charlotte, the maid.”

      Belinda tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

      “I believe you were eating lunch in the restaurant at the table next to mine.”

      “Oh, yeah, that’s it,” Belinda replied.

      “Is it going to bother you for me to clean?” And though she had to force herself to say it, she added, “I can come back later.”

      Belinda shook her head. “Nope. Won’t bother me.” She laughed, and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be in the shower,” she called over her shoulder. “Besides, now is probably a good time to clean while my mom is out. She’s down at the spa getting a facial and a massage.”

      While Belinda showered Charlotte worked on cleaning the bedroom. By the time Belinda emerged in a hotel robe, Charlotte had made up both beds with clean sheets and dusted.

      “Are you from around here?” Belinda СКАЧАТЬ