“I need to talk to you now.” Dan B. and his bulk shouldered into the room. He appeared nervous, on edge. Vera felt tempted to object until he blurted out: “Feldspar closed The Inn. When I asked him why, he walked away.”
Vera winced to gather her thoughts. “He closed The Inn?”
“That’s right. And he wouldn’t tell me for how long.”
Vera’s adrenalin rushed. “We’ve got reservations for tonight! He can’t close The Inn!”
“Well, he did. You better find out what’s going on.”
Oh, don’tt worry, I will! she thought. “I talked to him last night, for God’s sake. He didn’t say anything about closing.”
“Look, Vera, I’m just the chef, I don’t know anything about what’s going on. All I know is there’re a lot of fucked up things happening, and I can’t figure out any of them. For one, Donna’s acting really weird lately.”
Vera didn’t know how to react to this. In the dream she’d had the other night, she’d seen Donna, but then she still didn’t feel secure that it was a dream…
“And Lee’s gone,” Dan B. said.
She squinted forward. “What do you mean he’s gone.”
Dan B. held up his hands. “He’s gone. He left. He didn’t show up for prep so I checked his room. All his stuff’s out. The room’s empty. I can’t find him anywhere.”
Lee’s gone, the thought finally hit her. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she said. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”
Dan B. backed out of the room; he looked suspicious. Vera showered quickly, tripped over the pile of books she’d bought the other day, and dressed. She about stormed downstairs, turned into the front office, and cursed when she found Feldspar’s office door locked. Then she stormed into Kyle’s office. The door was unlocked, but there was no sign of Kyle.
“Goddamn it!” She went to his desk, dialed Room Service, and cursed once more when no one answered. Someone should be there! she thought. There were room guests who’d be ordering dinner! At once the sheer frustration flattened her.
Then she noted Kyle’s top desk drawer slightly open.
Some impulse—she didn’t know what—impelled her to open it further. And when she did so, she noticed the strangest thing.
The gun.
The gun she’d seen in Feldspar’s desk some time ago now sat plainly in Kyle’s drawer. She knew it was the same one; it looked large and clunky, unusual, like an antique.
“Hey, Vera, if you want to go through my drawers, that’s okay by me.”
Vera looked up, outraged. Kyle entered the office with a loping, arrogant stride, grinning at the fact he’d caught her invading his managerial privacy, which she easily ignored given comment regarding his “drawers.”
“Why do you have a gun?” she demanded.
Kyle shrugged, along with his pectorals. “In case we get robbed. Hotels do get robbed every so often.”
Fine! What could she say? That she’d seen the same gun in Feldspar’s desk? Then some weird mental fog cleared in her head. The dream, she thought. Despite the usual demented sex, hadn’t she dreamed of hearing gunshots?
She’d sound ridiculous voicing it. So she voiced the next outrage. “Dan B. told me Lee’s gone.”
Kyle nodded, arms crossed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah?” Vera nearly spat.
“If you were anything close to a decent personnel manager, you’d know what’s going on with your personnel.”
She wished she could kick him, or slap him, or—something. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Lee got fired. Drinking on duty. Shit, Vera, I gave the guy as many breaks as I could but never got it in his head. Last night the guy was blotto cleaning up. I had to fire him. He packed his bags this morning, got a cab to the bus station in Waynesville. ”
Bullshit! she felt inclined to say, but then she had to admit that Lee had been known to drink a few beers while working the dishwasher. She’d never known him, however, to be drunk. “Lee was my employee. How come I wasn’t consulted about the decision to fire him?”
Kyle, again, shrugged. “You were asleep. I guess you gals need your beauty sleep.” Then he offered the faintest chuckle. “You knew the guy was tipping the bottle on duty, don’t tell me you didn’t. If you cared more about your employees than your sleeptime, then this might never have happened.”
What could she say to that? Vera felt a pang of guilt, but her anger still fumed. Lee was a lot of things, but impulsive wasn’t one of them. Would he really leave without even telling me? She just couldn’t accept that. “And what’s this crap about The Inn being closed?”
“The Inn’s closed,” Kyle responded in his usual smart-ass manner. “What am I? An information desk? The Inn’s closed for the rest of the week.”
“Why?”
“Plumbing problem. One of the domestic waterlines broke, I think.”
“What do you mean, you think?” Vera seethed. “When did this happen?”
“Last night, while you were beddy-bye. A main froze up and broke, so the out-water line backed up.”
This sounded as fishy as the business about Lee leaving. “If the main ruptured, how come my shower worked this morning?’’
“We have more than one main, Vera. Listen, I’ve got work to do, and no time to take a ration of shit from you. You got anymore questions, go ask Mr. Feldspar.” And with that, Kyle walked out.
He is such a prick! Vera thought. Yeah, right, go ask Feldspar. I would, you schmuck, if you could friggin’ find him! Vera left the office herself, then slipped into the lobby ladies’ room. She was not surprised to find that all the faucets worked when she turned them on. Then she scurried to the restaurant kitchen—all the water worked there too. Broken water main, my ass. This was outrageous! And when she went to check the water in the room-service kitchen, she—
Shit!
—cursed heartily aloud.
The door to room service, as always, was locked.
You can’t just close The Inn, the irate thoughts followed her up the stairs. The kitchen water is fine—I’ve got reservations!
She had no choice. Feldspar was clearly a private person, not one to appreciate being bothered in his room. But as a manager, Vera felt it her right to know what was going on, and she deserved a better explanation than Kyle’s cock and bull. She marched briskly down the second-floor hall, passed her own suite, to the suite at the very end. Centered on the door shined a tiny brass plaque which read: feldspar, do not disturb.
Well, sorry, boss, but I’m going to disturb you. Vera stood a moment to compose herself, then firmly rapped on the ornate door.
The door not only was unlocked, it was ajar.
It swung open.
“Mr. Feldspar, I’m sorry to disturb you,” she apologized, “but—”
Vera stared, vexed.
She knew in a glance that Feldspar was not in the suite. In fact, there was nothing in the suite. No drapes, no carpet, no wallpaper.
No furniture. No bed.
Just four bare walls and a bare floor.
And a lot of cobwebs.
««—»»
“Things are going well. It’s a wonder, is it not?”
The Factotum’s voice loomed, his satisfaction akin to the most gentle halo in the turbid, hot dark. “My servants, soon we’ll be one as was my promise. Have faith. We must have faith.”