Murder at the Miramar (Augusta Burnette Series) Read Free Page A

my mouth before my brain, though, and what I blurted out proved this beyond all doubt. ‘Mrs Reilly, could I get you a cookie?’
    Emmy craned her neck to look at me, and instead of the rebuke I expected, she merely replied, ‘That is a wonderful idea, AJ. Perhaps a couple of our freshest cookies and a cup of tea would be in order. Mrs Reilly,’ she said softly to the woman who now quietly sobbed into a wad of tissue, ‘Let AJ escort you back to your suite. She will stay with you until we find your little girl.’
    Well. That went much better than I had planned. In reality, I didn’t have a plan until Emmy spoke up. I smiled down at Mrs Reilly and extended a hand to help her to her feet. Without a word, she allowed herself to be guided back to her room. I called room service for a plate of assorted cookies and a pot of hot tea, and I spent the next few moments sitting next to her on the sofa, patting her hand as we waited for the goodies to be delivered.
    The only time I could recall a child being lost was when my cousin Edmond, Ellie’s older brother, got lost in the local Walmart. It was actually his fault, though; he’d been playing hide and seek with Ellie, hiding among the round clothes racks that stood clustered throughout the store. Aunt Amie had wandered on, intent on her list and baby Brody, only half paying attention to the number of children following in her wake. And, just like that, Ed was lost as a goose.
    We still tease him about the fit he threw when he realized that his mama had left him behind. Ellie, giggling too much to be of any help, couldn’t remember the last place she’d seen her brother. When a grumpy store employee, Ed dragging behind her like a recalcitrant puppy, found my near-hysterical aunt, only five minutes had expired. Being lost in the wilds of Walmart was nothing, though, compared to what Mrs Reilly was going through.
    A soft tap at the suite’s door heralded the arrival of the tea and cookies, and I rose to answer. I was grateful for something to do; sitting still and not talking isn’t one of my strong points. The young maid who stood there with the tray didn’t bother to hide her curiosity. She gazed past me to stare at the distraught woman on the couch; the news had obviously reached the kitchen. I moved to my left, effectively blocking the view as I took the tray from her.
    Mrs Reilly accepted a cup of tea from me and placed it on the table without taking a sip. A warm peanut-butter cookie, though, disappeared quickly. Good sign, I thought, munching my own soft oatmeal raisin. In my opinion, sugar in any form is a sure-fire cure for anxiety, and we certainly could use a dose or two right about then.
    Another soft tap sounded and Mrs Reilly instantly stiffened, dropping the remainder of her cookie on the table beside the tea. I stood to my feet, ready to answer the door, but it was flung open before I could get there.
    Emmy Ruiz, a sheen of sweat across her forehead, stood holding the hand of a confused-looking little girl, still clad in her princess-patterned nightgown.
    Behind her stood a man – Mr Reilly, I presumed – a smile almost splitting his face in two.
    Mrs Reilly gave a strangled cry then leapt to her feet, pushing past me and kneeling down on the floor, taking her daughter into her arms. It was a sight fit for a greeting card or a TV commercial, and I slipped past the family reunion and out to the hallway.
    A few minutes later, Emmy and I settled ourselves at her desk in the main lobby, the ubiquitous cookies and a pitcher of ice water waiting for us. As joyful as I felt, I noticed Emmy wasn’t responding the way I thought she would. I mean, finding a lost child is momentous, and I expected to hear an excited version of how Leeza had been recovered, of the heroic efforts of the security team. Instead, Emmy sat looking at the desk top, not saying a word.
    ‘Emmy?’
    She looked up at me, and I could see signs of something – anxiety, or worry, or something