The Saboteur
by David Santiago
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3, 4 |
part 2
Ofelia’s cab, which had been circling the Ronald Reagan Building for the past fifteen minutes, pulled to the curb near the 14th Street entrance shortly after Ofelia exited the building. The sky was turning gray, and the damp air was warm and discomforting. Mathew and Everly, who lived in northern Virginia and had carpooled together into the city, had left for the parking garage. Chloe was walking beside Ofelia, on her way to the JW Marriott, where she was staying.
“So, what was that all about? The wild weekend and all? The Ritz?”
Ofelia waved at the cab driver, and could see the little black-and-tan dog peeking its head out the open passenger-side window.
“That’s an excellent question, Chloe. I have no idea what she was talking about. When was the last time you saw me?”
“At dinner last night, at 1789. You do remember, don’t you? We were all there.”
“That’s right,” said Ofelia, rubbing her temples, “I do remember. They served a lovely brioche-crusted halibut.”
“So... what’s going on?”
“Hold that thought.”
Ofelia walked over to the cab. The dog began wagging its tail excitedly. It was standing on its hind legs with its front paws resting on the interior door panel.
“I just need ten minutes,” said Ofelia to the driver, reaching through the passenger side window and pulling out the dog with its leash. The dog reminded her of an extra-large Brillo pad, but it was growing on her.
“Have you ever seen this guy before?” asked Ofelia as she walked up to Chloe. They were standing next to the Oscar S. Straus Memorial Fountain.
Chloe stared for a moment at the dog, who was sniffing her heels, then shook her head. “Never. Whose dog is it?”
“It was in my room when I woke up this morning. Coincidentally, I had no recollection of checking into the Ritz. I booked a room at the JW Marriott. A stay at the Ritz is generally not in line with company policy.”
“Let me get this straight,” said Chloe incredulously. “You have no recollection of checking into the Ritz-Carlton, where you stayed last night. You have no recollection of this dog, which is in your possession at the moment. Do you even know its name?”
“I just call it Doggie,” said Ofelia.
“Right. We need to work on that. Anyway, you have no recollection of checking into the Ritz, no idea where this dog came from, and you nearly missed orals today. Strange. Very strange.”
“That about sums it up.”
Chloe rubbed her chin. “You’re not having a secret love affair?”
“Not to my knowledge. Which is disappointing, let me assure you of that. I would be happily involved in a secret love affair if I was in on the secret.”
Chloe’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “You don’t think someone drugged you, do you?”
“That definitely crossed my mind.”
“And that someone took advantage of you...”
“Could be. Although unlikely, given that I was fully clothed this morning, and there was a dog in the neighboring bed. But we can’t rule out the possibility.”
“Oh, God!” cried Chloe, sitting down abruptly on the fountain ledge.
“Hey, no need to panic,” said Ofelia, patting Chloe on the shoulder. “The circumstances are very unusual. I don’t think that happened. You see, I noticed something else that was odd.”
Ofelia sat down next to Chloe and began rubbing the dog’s belly. “I noticed that my conference speaker notes were gone. I searched the entire room. If I were to make an educated guess, it seems that someone’s out to sabotage me.
“Think about it. You and I fly to DC from Raleigh-Durham this weekend. The night before the oral presentation, I’m drugged. I nearly missed our meeting because I’m staying on the other side of town. I have some mysterious dog in my room, which I have to attend to, because, well, it would be wrong not to take care of it.
“Doggie further complicates my ability to get out of the hotel room on time for our meeting. My detailed speaker notes, which I’ve handwritten, are gone the day before my keynote speech at the International Conference on Public Health. Oh, and our USAID technical evaluation committee, to include Ms. Henderson herself, are all planning on attending tomorrow’s conference.”
“Could it be Julia Jennings? She wouldn’t dare!”
“She seemed uniquely aware of my stay at the Ritz.”
Ofelia stood up and stared at the white USAID flag fluttering in the wind. A slight breeze was picking up, hinting at an afternoon shower. “There’s only one way to find out. I’m heading back to the Ritz.”
“Hey, don’t leave without me! We’re in this together.”
* * *
If luxury was a distraction for the uninitiated, then the Ritz-Carlton’s lobby lounge was a diversion of the first order. Having grown up in inner-city Chicago and later having spent much of her career traveling the developing world on humanitarian missions, Ofelia wasn’t used to pampering and opulence.
Granted, she’d been looking forward to staying at the JW Marriott, which was an attractive hotel in its own right, but this boutique hotel, nestled in the heart of Georgetown in a refurbished industrial building, oozed glamor and refinement. The lounge featured floor-to-ceiling windows lined with bronze-colored, side-swept curtains that darkened the space to create an air of intimacy. Bare brick walls were contrasted with jewel-toned furnishings, elaborate flower arrangements, and custom sectionals and armchairs.
Chloe was sitting cross-legged on a stool beside the bar, dangling her black stiletto in the direction of a man a couple of seats away while sipping a French Martini. She was wearing a navy-blue, form-fitting blazer dress and appeared more at home in the Ritz-Carlton than any government building. She was staring alluringly at the businessman, who had his back slightly turned to her, when Ofelia walked over with the dog, interrupting her advances.
“Oh, yes, Ofelia, what did you learn?” she asked, frowning.
Ofelia plopped down on the barstool in between Chloe and the businessman, and shook her head. “The room is booked under my name through tonight, but it was pre-paid by someone else. An anonymous benefactor.”
“Did they provide any other details? Who physically checked you in?”
“It seems that I checked myself in. But I was accompanied by a man.”
“You’re kidding!” hissed Chloe. “What did he look like?”
“Well, they said he was tall. Over six feet. With a dark complexion. Brown, tousled, curly hair, with a five-o’clock shadow. He was dressed in a business suit.”
Ofelia and Chloe turned slowly toward the man next to them. The Brussels Griffon was licking the man’s black dress shoes.
“Ahem,” said Ofelia. “Ahem, sir.”
Ofelia noticed he had wireless airpods in, and was engrossed in a copy of the Financial Times. She tapped him on his shoulder and he jumped out of his seat in surprise, knocking over his glass, spilling water on his newspaper.
“Ofelia!” he exclaimed, whirling around and pulling his airpods out from his ears. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there. How are you?”
“Um, well, I’m fine, I suppose...” she began.
“Boris!” he cried, picking up the dog, whose tail was wagging in the air. “I am so grateful for you. I was out all last night, and Boris gets so scared by himself. Thank you so much for watching him. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
Ofelia looked at Chloe, then she waved at the bartender, who was delivering cocktails to a couple sitting in one of the sectionals in the lounge. “Okay, so, I don’t mean to be rude, but who exactly are you?”
The man’s expression changed, and he appeared crestfallen. “We spoke last night? For at least an hour, before I had to go to the ER.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” said Ofelia, before turning to the bartender and pointing at Chloe’s drink. “I’ll take one of those. And don’t hold back on the vodka.”
“Me too. Another, please,” added Chloe.
“Oh, God. This is awkward,” said the man, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m Kendrick. We spoke last evening in the lobby. We talked about Chicago?”
“Still nothing.”
“I grew up in Sauganash. I’ve been to your brother’s cafe in Oak Park. I think you said his name was Luis?”
“Did I?”
Kendrick’s handsome features were contorted in obvious pain. His tan skin was becoming a distinct shade of red. “I live in Reston, and am attending the International Conference on Public Health tomorrow. But I was on call and had to rush back to Reston last night to provide emergency surgery. I had hoped to get away for a couple of days without interruption.”
“So, you’re a surgeon?” asked Chloe, twirling her long black ponytail. “And single, I assume?”
“General surgeon, yes. Work has been so consuming. Haven’t had time for a committed relationship,” he said, sulkily.
“Same here,” bemoaned Ofelia.
“I know. We spoke about that last evening!”
Ofelia and Kendrick exchanged glances. He does have rather nice broad shoulders. And those eyes... Ofelia thought.
“You didn’t happen to escort me to my room last night?” Ofelia asked. “With the dog, of course.”
“I’m afraid not. But I did walk with you to the front desk, to check in.”
Well, that eliminates any secret love affair, she lamented.
“You don’t seem to remember much of our conversation, do you? I had to rush off. I handed you Boris, at this bar as a matter of fact. Again, I can’t thank you enough for your kindness and generosity. And Boris seems quite fond of you.”
Chloe intervened: “Kendrick, would you mind describing your conversation with Ofelia last night?”
The bartender placed two martinis on the table. “Better make that three,” Kendrick said to him. “Ofelia, you did appear a bit tipsy last night, now that I think about it. Nothing out of the ordinary, though,” he said, stroking Boris, who was curled in a ball on his lap.
“I was having a drink at the bar and saw you enter the lobby. There was a group of people standing near the lobby entrance. They’d been there for a while, and seemed to be on their way out when you arrived. I saw you talking to a blonde-haired woman. The conversation became a little animated. You said something about a night out on the town and a keynote. A few minutes later, you came over to the bar and ordered a Moscow Mule. You mentioned something about needing a vacation, and we got to speaking. I learned you were from Chicago, and we started talking about all the places we’d like to go. Then my cell phone rang, and I had to leave.”
Chloe leaned into Ofelia’s ear. “Julia!” she whispered.
“You didn’t happen to see me holding anything? A folder, perhaps?”
“No, not that I recall.”
“Where could my notes have gone?” muttered Ofelia.
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, nothing. I just seem to have lost something.”
“Ofelia is the keynote speaker at the conference tomorrow,” said Chloe, nibbling on a raspberry skewered on a plastic cocktail pick. “But her speaker notes have vanished.”
“That’s unfortunate,” said Kendrick.
The bartender placed a martini next to Kendrick, which he sipped indulgently, before pointing his right index finger in the air. “I have an idea. Why don’t you do a dry run with me tonight?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t...”
“Really, it would be my pleasure.”
“It’s been a whirlwind...”
“Over dinner?”
“That’s not how I typically prepare...”
“Perhaps with a good Côtes du Rhône?”
“Okay. That’s enough,” cried Chloe, standing up. “Yes, she’d love to. She’ll meet you here at 7:00 pm sharp. In the meantime, let’s find those notes of yours, Ofelia.”
* * *
A short while later, Ofelia and Chloe were in the one-bedroom suite. Ofelia was reclining on a plush, striped, brown-and-tan sofa in the living room with her hands behind her head. Her high heels were nearby, lying on their sides on the floor. Chloe was on her knees, looking under the box spring in the adjacent room. She tossed pineapple-patterned pajama shorts over her shoulder, toward the French doors.
“Those happen to be some of my favorite bottoms!”
“I’ve looked everywhere,” said Chloe, brushing lint off her suit dress as she stood up. “No sign of speaker notes.”
Ofelia sighed. “I’ll just have to make do without them.”
Chloe stepped into the living room and sank into a leather armchair across from Ofelia. “Well, you probably don’t need them, anyway. Everly’s always talking about how she was a debate club champion. Never used notes.” She put her feet up on the glass top coffee table and stared dreamily at the wall. “When was the last time you went on a date?” asked Chloe after a minute or so.
“Huh? You mean, like with Kendrick? No, we’re not having a date.”
“Yes, you’re definitely having a date. It’s pretty much the definition of a date.”
“He’s just helping me prepare for my speech. And by the way, maybe Doggie, er, Boris ate my speaker notes. You never know with those terrier-like dogs.”
“Those eyes—”
“He did seem rather fit—”
“Those lips—”
“And strong—”
“I could show him a thing or two—”
“Alright!” squawked Ofelia, sitting upright. “Let me ask you something,” she asked, changing the subject. “Did you see me take a cab from 1789 to the Ritz last night?”
Chloe was staring at the wall.
“Hello, Earth to Chloe,” Ofelia said, waving her hand back and forth.
“What?” Chloe exhaled deeply. “No, I didn’t see you take a cab after dinner last night.”
“I don’t understand how I got here.”
“After we paid our bill, I went to the restroom. You were already on your way out with Everly and Mathew. I remember you rushing to finish your wine. Maybe it went to your head.”
“I do remember having an exquisite Chardonnay.”
“You must have taken a taxi.”
“Speaking of Chardonnay, are you planning to attend the networking event this afternoon?”
“I thought about going. As a general rule of thumb, I don’t pass up free drinks and hors d’oeuvres.”
“And Chemonics, no doubt, will be there.”
“Julia Jennings is an insufferable socialite.”
“Right. I have an idea.”
“Uh-oh. I’m not sure I like where this is going.”
“Nothing to worry about,” said Ofelia, standing up. “Just a little investigative work while we do some networking. Connecting the dots, so to speak.”
* * *
Copyright © 2022 by David Santiago
