Eye of the Beholder

reveal the newspapers he held. "We've got full-page feature spreads in both the Phoenix and the Tucson papers. They love us."
    "Let me see those." Trask took the papers from him. Both were folded back to the articles on the resort.

    A NEW JEWEL IN AVALON'S CROWN

    Avalon Resorts, Inc., opened its newest and most luxurious hotel and spa in, appropriately enough, Avalon, AZ, last week. The gala reception that marked the occasion was hosted by the corporation's president and CEO, John Laird Trask.
    "It was time that we came back to where it all started," Trask stated in an interview before the festivities. "Turning the old Avalon Mansion into a resort was a long-held dream of my father's. What you see here tonight is his vision made into reality."
    Trask ran his eye quickly down the column until he spotted the words Art Deco . Then he paused to read more carefully.

    The resort houses the corporation's new collection of Art Deco. The items were assembled by Edward Vale, a well-known consultant to businesses and wealthy collectors. The collection drew several prominent figures in the Southwest art world to the reception.
    Members of the Avalon City Council were enthusiastic about the economic impact of the new resort...

    Trask stopped reading and refolded the papers. A single paragraph in a daily newspaper noting the hotel's collection was not going to be enough for Alexa. She needed more than that to make her big comeback.

    He handed the papers back to Pete. "Looks like we're off and running."
    Pete grinned. "You can say that again. They called the resort a desert fantasy. We're getting a fresh surge in convention bookings."
    Trask inclined his head to indicate the crowded lobby. "Looks good."
    Pete studied the guests with undisguised satisfaction. "The Avalon Spring Festival is a huge draw, of course. We opened at the perfect time. Avalon is hot and getting hotter."
    "Dad was right all along." Trask started toward the staircase. "It was just his timing that was off. It always was."
    He went up the steps to the second floor and walked the length of the west wing to the door of his suite. He exchanged winks with Dancing Satyr as he opened the door.
    "You're looking better every day."
    He let himself into the room and went straight to the desk to check his messages. There were three from the Seattle office. He listened to them, concluded they were of minor nuisance value only, and erased them.
    He took the time to grind some of the dark-roasted beans from his precious stockpile and made himself a decent cup of coffee.
    Then he picked up the phone and dialed Phil Okuda's number.
    Phil came on the line immediately.
    "It's Trask."
    "I was afraid of that," Phil said dryly. "I still haven't got a lead on Liz Guthrie, if that's what you're calling about. She's definitely trying to hide.
    None of her friends have heard from her. There's no dose family. Looks like she's using cash only, not credit cards or checks or anything else that can be traced easily."
    "Can you find her if she's living on cash?"
    "Sure. Just takes a little longer, that's all."
    "Put some extra people on it, Phil. I think we need to get to her fast."
    "What's the problem?"
    "It's possible that someone else is also trying to find her. I think he wants her dead. If not now, then in the very near future."
    "Talk to the cops?" Phil asked.
    "They think she just took off for a little vacation. Anything new on Bell ?"
    "Nothing that we don't already know," Phil said. "He looks legit. Can't say the same for his pal, Foster Radstone , though."
    "Is that so?" Trask settled in a chair. "What have you got on him?"
    "For starters, until he went to work for Dimensions, he used to go by the name of Fletcher Richards."
    "Any idea why he changed his name?"
    "Probably because the Florida authorities are looking for him. In his previous career as a financial planner, he apparently bilked a bunch of senior citizens out of their life's savings."

    Dylan tapped a spoon against a glass to get the attention of the small crowd gathered in Cafe Solstice.
    "Hear ye, hear ye, this meeting of the Avalon Plaza Business Association will now come to order," he intoned.
    Alexa glanced around, swiftly counting heads. "Joanna isn't here yet."
    Stewart looked up from a large tub filled with loose tea leaves that he was blending by hand. "She didn't come in today. Left her assistant in charge of the shop. I don't think she was feeling well."
    "Joanna's been acting weird for quite a while