Veiled Threat by Alice Loweecey

longer white-sided building with a painted wrought-iron sign that read, The Wildflower—Est. 2007 .
    The half-filled guest part of the lot had room for about a hundred cars altogether. Piles of plowed snow blocked several spots. Snowed-in tennis courts and stables ranged away to her left. The long, gray lake lapped at the snow-covered bank a few feet from the right-hand hotel. Fifty feet behind it, a boathouse with frosty windows sat dark and silent amidst snowdrifts.
    She drove to the cluster of buildings and fit the Escort in a narrow slot next to an older pickup truck by the back wall of the building labeled Laundry . Steam belched from its chimney. At first Giulia thought that was the only sign of life, but a moment later four cross-country skiers appeared from behind a maintenance shed and passed the stables.
    Get to work, Falcone. No, no, no. I need a name. Um … Regina. Something I’m used to answering to. Last name … What’s the love interest in the book I’m reading right now? … Ryan. That’ll work. Regina Ryan.
    Horses whinnied when she slammed the car door. Wind whipped off the lake. Her long, violet wool coat was almost not enough for the end of December. She slung her purse over her shoulder and locked the door with her right hand, her sneakers dangling from her left. Her boots gave excellent traction on the salted parking lot, despite a few stubborn patches of black ice. If it had been a different season, she would’ve looked for the employee entrance. Today she went right to the main doors.
    A fireplace. Wonderful.
    It was meant for paying guests to bask at, so she reluctantly walked past it to the front counter, which stretched across the entire east wall. Giulia heard the desk clerk before she saw her. A high, thin voice, but sweet nonetheless. As Giulia got closer, the desk clerk stood up from where she’d been seated behind a large computer monitor.
    “May I help you?” Her smile matched the voice—thin and sweet.
    “Good afternoon. I’m the new part-time person in housekeeping.”
    The smile became admonitory. “Use the side entrance from now on, through the kitchen storage area.”
    “Sorry. I didn’t know where the employee entrance was.”
    “Everyone gets a mulligan the first time.” She pointed to her right. “Go right through the gift shop. There’s a door next to the DVD shelf. I’ll unlock it for you.”
    Giulia walked to the end of the counter and entered the shop. She caught a glimpse of sweatshirts and T-shirts among other things she couldn’t place. A narrow door opened and she slipped through.
    “Come this way. I hope you’re ready to get dirty. I’ll show you where to hang your coat. There’s a boot rack next to the proper entrance. Barbara is expecting you. She has paperwork for you to fill out.”
    Giulia took off her coat and hat, set her sneakers on the floor, and removed her boots. The desk clerk waited for her while she laced her sneakers. Her braid flopped over her shoulder, and one of her Santa Claus earrings caught in it. She untangled the earring and flipped the braid back into place before standing.
    “Did you overspend on Christmas this year?”
    How rude. Giulia took in the other woman’s inquisitive expression. Get over it. She probably just wants harmless gossip, like the hostess in that Mexican restaurant where I used to work.
    She nodded. “Impulse buys. No one to blame but myself.” Shut up, conscience. You know Father Carlos will absolve you from lies told for the greater good.
    “Then I’m glad we had an opening. Barbara’s office is this way.”
    Mustering every ounce of “nondescript,” Giulia followed. The desk clerk was several inches taller than Giulia’s five-five, but she stooped. Not in the way people who worked all day at a computer did; more like she’d spent her life perfecting what Giulia was trying for: to be unobtrusive. Odd for a woman in the hospitality industry. Maybe she was the tallest girl in school and couldn’t