Sharon Dunn - Death of a Six-Foot Teddy Bear (Bargain Hunters Mysteries, No. 2)

Other than the fact that her fingers were on a computer keyboard, there was no real evidence that the woman behind the counter would be able to get Ginger and Kindra checked in. Tanned skin contrasted with a sequined zebra-print leotard. Blue feathers sprouted out of the top of her head. Her hair had that recently electrocuted look of a supersized bouffant.

Ginger Salinski strode toward the counter, pulling her rolling suitcase behind her. The suitcase contained twin sets, sandals, and a very crabby cat named Phoebe. Big hair and a skimpy outfit werent going to put her off. She was a woman on a mission and time was running out.

I dont think the AC is working. Kindra Halls face glistened like a solar panel as she turned a half circle in the lobby of the Wind-Up Hotel.

Ginger stopped short and closed her eyes, as if that could shut out yet another piece of bad news. She opened one eye. That would make it only half as bad, right?

People perched on lobby couches, wiping their faces with tissues and sopping wetness from their eyes. Across the expanse of black-and-white checkerboard floor, the bellboy, pushing a luggage rack that was shaped like a Radio Flyer wagon, stopped to unbutton his sweat-stained shirt. The brochure had said that the Wind-Up had a classic-toy theme. A stream of moisture trickled down Gingers temple.

She had been so focused on getting checked in that the tropical temperatures hadnt affected her until now. Ive seen worse. Like inside a kiln.

Im sure its only a temporary thing. Kindra stood on her toes and bounced.

At least the kid still had some pep and that was a good thing. Of course, the endless stream of lattes Kindra had consumed on the drive from Vegas to Calamity, Nevada, probably had something to do with her exuberance.

They cant charge a hundred bucks a night for a room and not have air conditioning. Perspiration had caused Kindras blond hair to lie flat against her head.

Ginger winced. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of the cost of this hotel. She had never paid that much in her life. She could always find discounts and coupons, but not for the Wind-Up. She reminded herself that the best deal, at the expense of relationships, was not a good deal. They needed to be at the Wind-Up so her husband could network.

Ginger cleared her throat. Lets get Earl checked in so he keeps his booth at the Inventors Expo. Well go up to our rooms and wait for Suzanne and Arleta. At this point, I could sleep in a sauna.

The woman with the showgirl look and poufy hair glanced up from her keyboard, batting blue eyelashes. Yes, can I help you? Thick stage makeup coupled with the heat gave her features a melting-wax quality.

Are you are you the one who checks us into the hotel? Or maybe I have fallen down a rabbit hole.

The woman slammed a fist on her hip. For now. I am afraid the regular help has quit. No surprise there. Her booming voice almost overpowered her loud outfit. She leaned over the counter as though sharing a confidence, but spoke at an even higher volume. Our illustrious owner, Dustin Clydell, has alienated yet another employee. I told him not to blame her for the AC problem. He didnt listen to me when we were married; he doesnt now. I dont know why I keep hoping. She pointed at her chest and nodded. So who gets stuck with the admin duties? You guessed it. Good old, dependable Tiffany.

Were in a little bit of a time crunch. Kindras voice was apologetic, barely above a whisper. We need to get checked in to reserve her husbands spot at the Expo.

Tiffany wiped her temple and a line of dark brown extended from the corner of her eye to her hairline. Oh, sorry, honey. She put her hands on the keyboard. I just needed to vent. This AC mishap is only the tip of the iceberg. This place is going down like the Titanic, baby. Tiffany stopped typing and turned. She waggled alternating fingers in the air like dueling pistols. He just better give me the alimony he owes before this ship sinks.