Her phone went off, and she reached into her purse to retrieve it. “Oh no.”

“What?” Lucy asked, leaning in.

“It’s a text from Claire. She needs us to come and distract Chip in his office. She said he got a fax.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “A fax? Is that code for something?”

“I don’t know, but we’d better get going. We’re a good ten-minute walk from the hotel.”

They rushed back, cutting through the restaurant and past the front desk. It took a minute of searching, but they found the heavy wooden door marked “Manager.” It had a frosted glass window and inside, they could make out the muffled voices of Chip and Claire.

“What should we do?” Lucy whispered.

Margie was already two steps ahead of her, turning the doorknob as she knocked. “Hello hello!” she called out, a broad smile spanning her face.

Lucy forced herself to smile and followed Margie inside.

“Oh, hi Margie,” Claire said.

Lucy looked over to Chip, sitting at the large, stately desk at the back of the room. Squarely behind him she spotted the fax machine, which was sporting a black-and-white printout of Marty’s face.

So fax wasn’t a code word. Who even used fax machines anymore? Ridiculous.

“We just had the loveliest brunch, and I was hoping that you two might want to come and join us for a walk along the water?” Margie said, casually strolling over to Chip and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Chip turned and looked up at her. “I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed the Plum Spoon, but I’m going to have to skip the walk. Claire’s putting me to work today. I’m getting bids for some hotel improvements.”

“What a shame!” said Margie, giving Lucy a stern stare.

Lucy took the hint, and started slowly moving toward Chip’s desk.

Margie kept talking. “I know a wonderful photographer who could take new pictures of the property, if you’re interested?”

He looked at Claire, then back at Margie. “Sure. That’d be great.”

How was Lucy going to get behind that huge desk without looking suspicious? She walked slowly, careful not to bump any of the leaning towers of papers on the surrounding bookshelves.

As she rounded a chair, Lucy’s foot got caught on a rug and she went tumbling to the ground.

“Lucy!” said Claire, getting up from her seat. “Are you okay?”

“Oof.” Lucy did her best impression of a professional soccer player, sprawled and immobile.

Chip stood up from his desk and rushed over. “I’m so sorry!  It’s an old rug and people hardly ever come in here. Are you all right?”

Lucy sat up slowly. She could see Margie silently inching toward the fax machine before snatching the paper and shoving it into her pocket.

“I’m fine, just a bit...surprised.” She stood up, dusting herself off.