The Girl With No Fear

Sycophants and the gullible. A dangerous combination. Daisy thought, watching the scene assembling outside the Witzler Hotel and inside its lobby. The junior reporter had already checked off in her mind which individuals scrambling around inside and out were likely on the payrolls of Rusk and Laffont. She counted at least three campaign workers who likely fell into the publicist category. One familiar face, a professional campaign manager who once oversaw one of Morgan Barrow's congressional reelections, spoke of the money being tossed around.

Daisy also recognized a fringe kook out of Moose Point. He'd hosted a longtime public access show for local issues in the region. In recent years, the rabble-rouser had finally made the overdue transition to podcasts. A rise in listeners and fortune had followed. Through her sources, Daisy also heard rumors that this podcast host had turned mercenary, selling his voice-of-the-people schtick to politicians seeking a boost or a base of supporters.

"Here you go," Norah said, announcing her return. The sophomore handed over Daisy's coat that she'd gone upstairs to retrieve, along with her own. "Ah, I see Bad Toupee has arrived."

"Thanks. Yes, you barely missed him throwing a temper tantrum. He started setting up his podcast in the lobby. Sinclair Pierce and Bad Toupee had words. And it sounds like we can expect a future protest of this elitist establishment," Daisy recounted.

"Cool. I'll mark it on my calendar," Norah remarked sarcastically. "Gawd, it looks cold out there."

"I think it's warming up, actually. Those snowflakes don't look as solid," Daisy commented about the scattered snow falling. "Oh, I've been checking around, and I think I know where the growing crowds are coming from. I'm seeing reports of 'random people' hitting the bars down the street and announcing that the man of the people, Orrin Rusk, is about to fix this corrupt town. I'm going to assume that these volunteers are paid workers as they're sending interested patrons down here for the big announcement."

"Great. Sending New Year's Eve drunks down here from the Wax District to bolster the crowd won't bring any issues. None at all," Norah muttered, starting to button up her coat.

Daisy's reply caught in her throat as her eye caught a flash of red hair coming through the main glass turnstile front door. The journalist's first impression proved correct despite the young woman's efforts to conceal her identity.

Wrapping your scarf around your neck might have helped, but the sunglasses on at night make you look more than suspicious. Now, what are you doing here? Surely not arriving late for the charity ball. You despise Finn with a passion. This calls for an audible.

"Hold on," Daisy said, shooting her arm out to stop Norah from heading outside.

In the process of debating over whether or not to put on her stocking cap, the sophomore gladly complied. It gave her more time to wonder if she should ruin her hair for the trip outside.

"I'm going to need you to monitor the lobby until Ramsey arrives," the dirty blonde informed. She spoke as her gaze tracked the ginger across the lobby. Then the person of interest turned down the hallway leading to the elevator banks. "I need to check on a developing situation."

"Who is that woman?" Norah questioned, causing Daisy to pause before leaving.

"Daphne Garrow. Tell Ramsey. She'll understand," Daisy said over her shoulder. Then, she began to follow the same trajectory the redhead took briskly.

"Oh!" Norah sounded from behind Daisy, recognizing the name.

Not sure if Daphne would recognize her, Daisy kept her distance as she trailed the ginger toward the elevators. Although Daphne's time had been short on The Buzzy Bee, after getting kicked off by Mrs. Brass toward the end of the girl's sophomore year, the twenty-year-old's hatred of Finn meant anything could be possible. As one of Finn's junior high school recruits, Daisy felt confident that she'd popped up on Daphne's radar.

Crap! I can't get on the elevator with Garrow. Whatever sneaky shit she's up to--and I know Daphne is up to some shit--seeing me will trigger her defense mechanisms. I need someone--Yes!

Three events gave Daisy an opportunity. First, the elevator farthest from Daphne on the left opened to allow a small crowd to depart. Second, Wilbur Winkie led the group off the elevator. And thirdly, Winkie lived up to his reputation as a klutz by immediately tripping over his feet.

Daisy cheered silently as the hotel guests tumbled over Winkie or widened their route to avoid the tangled-up people. Those movements blocked Daphne's path to the elevator. Frustrated, she threw her hands up before moving even wider around the people in the now crowded area. And her shouted effort to hold the elevator didn't work, as impatient guests seized the chance to head up to their intended rooms.

The pissed-off stamp of her foot to the floor echoed around the hallway.

"Will, psst, Will, over here," Daisy sounded as quietly as possible.

Focused on apologizing for his clumsiness and thanking the two men who helped him up, Winkie didn't notice Daisy's attempts to catch his attention. Then, risking exposure, the newshound rushed forward to grab the football kicker's arms. She quickly dragged him far enough away so that Daphne would not notice her. Still, Daisy used Winkie's tall frame to hide.

"Oh, hey, Dais--"

"No time for that. I need a huge favor, Will," Daisy stated hurriedly after cutting him off. "Do you see that redhead over there with sunglasses on?"

"That one--oww!" Winkie cried as Daisy slapped his hand down. The football punter had begun to raise his hand to point his finger at Daphne.

"Yes. That's Daphne Garrow. Remember her? Two years older than us," Daisy reminded. Then, peaking around his body, she noticed the signal light above an elevator showed it was about to open on the main floor. "I need you to follow her and see which room she goes into. Can you do that?"

"You want me to... tail someone?! Wow! You're asking me to help--"

"I am! Now, can you do it? She's getting on the elevator," Daisy said, already pushing him in that direction. "Follow and get the room number. Don't do anything else. No talking to her! Got that?"

"Uh, okay,' Winkie said, getting pushed harder.

"Hold the elevator!" Daisy cried, giving one last hard shove into Will's back.

While watching her newly appointed helper barely make it onto the same elevator as Daphne, Daisy issued a big sigh of relief.

"Whew!"

Ramsey scanned the lobby, looking for Daisy. She felt guilty about leaving the ballroom without speaking to Lacey. However, Grandma McCracken had been right about not standing around and waiting. Lacey might be with her family for who knows how long, and she had tasks to accomplish. Also, Whitney promised to message her when she spoke to Lacey.

The editor-in-chief of The Buzzy Bee halted momentarily after glancing out the hotel's windows. The size of the crowd surprised the teen. Ramsey had expected almost a dozen people, tops, to be assembled beside the journalists, TV reporters, and campaign staff. Instead, the crowd looked double that, with more pairs of people walking up the driveway toward the hotel.

Continuing to scan the lobby, Ramsey noticed her mother near the entrance to the hotel's lounge. Ducking quickly toward her left, the strawberry blonde grumbled softly. Her mom couldn't see her, or that would be the end of covering the candidates' announcements. Then, she noticed Levi Klecko, the reporter her grandfather sent over from the Daily Flyer. Ramsey couldn't let Levi notice her either. Fortunately, he turned to go outside.

"Hey, over here," Norah called out.

Spotting a large potted plant next to the younger girl, Ramsey used that as cover from her mother. The editor inquired about Daisy's whereabouts, leading Norah to explain what she missed. The sophomore also mentioned what Daisy passed along about the crowd's points of origin.

"Hmm, this seems far more elaborate and planned than I expected. I can't picture Mr. Rusk with those organizational skills. Now, I wonder how long the plan for tonight stretches back," Ramsey remarked. "I doubt Daphne Garrow has anything to do with the campaigns, but Dais is right to assume the worst about her intentions toward Finn. We heard unflattering views about Daphne when we joined the Bee."

"Dex has mentioned her as well. So, do you want me to head outside or wait for Daisy to return?"

Ramsey held a finger up while she mulled over the altered plans. Then, she surprised Norah by inspecting the brunette's body up and down. Finally nodding to herself, Ramsey offered a new game plan.

"I think we're close enough in size. How about I wear your coat and hat to go outside?" Ramsey inquired. "That way, I have a better chance of not getting recognized. You can handle the work in here until Daisy returns."

"Um, sure, if that's what you want," Norah replied, glad to stay in the warm lobby. Shedding her coat at record speed, she handed it over. "So, are we just monitoring for now or engaging too?"

"Odd developments are rapidly occurring. I don't like unusual behavior that leaves me flatfooted," Ramsey admitted. "We need information. Use your phone to take pictures of everyone in the lobby. Don't worry about working out who is a hotel guest or not. Err on the side of caution. I'll do the same outside. Message me when Daisy returns."

When Winkie reemerged on the main floor, Daisy launched off the wall she was lounging against. Raising a hand, she waved him over. She also crossed her fingers that he didn't screw up the task.

"Did you see what room she entered?" Daisy asked impatiently.

"Yep. She's in 716," Winkie revealed, flashing a broad smile.

"Did Daphne have a keycard, or did someone let her in?"

"She got let in."

"And you're sure of the room number?" Daisy double-checked.

"Oh, yeah! A guy in 714 came out of his room right after she knocked. He must have forgotten something as he swore, patted his pockets, and then went back to his room," Winkie recounted.

"Did you see who let Daphne inside?" Daisy asked hopefully.

"No. Was I supposed to? I'm sorry if I was. I figured when tailing a suspect, I shouldn't get too close to them."

"No, no, that's the right way to follow," Daisy reassured. She almost started to thank Winkie, then paused. "Did Daphne seem suspicious of you?"

"At first, when we got off the elevator, she eyed me up. However, I had a receipt in my pocket and pulled it out. I made it look as if I checked for the number of a room before wandering down the hall behind her," Winkie explained. He beamed with pride at the way Daisy grinned at his idea. "Um, I did bang into a table when I turned the corner. Who puts a table with plants on it in a hallway? But, I think it helped as she laughed mockingly at me."

"You do an awesome job. Thanks for helping out," Daisy told him, grabbing his hand to squeeze it affectionately. "I can't thank you enough. Hey, how about a dance later?"

"R-Really? Um, yeah! I'd like that. But...But what about Evan?" Winkie asked, recalling her boyfriend. "Won't he get mad?"

"Evan won't mind. And if he does, I'll get Ramsey to dance with you. That sound alright?"

"More than alright!" Winkie exclaimed.

"Thanks again, Will. You've been a lifesaver," she added before walking over to a secluded corner.

"A dance with Daisy or Ramsey? Wow!" Winkie celebrated aloud while heading toward the ballroom.

Rapidly typing on her phone, Daisy told someone to call her, not message, and do it ASAP.

It took four agonizingly long minutes before the dirty blonde's phone buzzed.

"Hello?"

"The fuck is worth making me use a phone the old-fashioned way?" Odette Manske shouted into the phone. She shouted to be heard over the loud, bumping music that blared in the background.

"Where are you?" Daisy asked, pulling her phone away from her ear.

"You don't want to know," Odie continued to shout.

"Can't you get to a quieter place? This is vital."

"Fine! Hold on."

The shift of the music and cheers from some sort of crowd let Daisy know that the orange-haired techie had started to move. She waited impatiently as the sounds came and went in intensity before everything dampened. Then, a few seconds later, she heard a slam.

"Okay, is this better? Now, what's so damn important?"

"I need you to go into the Witzler's system and tell me who reserved Room 716," Daisy replied.

"Whoa! That's a lot of work, Dais. I'd need to hack into their security, then I'd need to--"

"I don't have time for bullshit, Odie. I know you already have a backdoor into their system. So tell me, who's in Room 716?"

"Wha--How the hell did you--Okay, whatever," Odette brushed off dismissively. "So I like to entertain myself by knowing who's staying in a hotel when they shouldn't be. You know, the fun part is accessing their cameras and seeing who's worth the cost of a suite at the Witzler and a potential breakup."

"Yeah, whatever. Odie, we need to know this and fast. Daphne Garrow went into that room. You know her beef with Finn," Daisy explained.

"Geez, you should've started with that. Or could've just messaged me. That way, I wouldn't need to come here. Yuck! Okay, hold on, let me grab my other phone."

Daisy waited while Odette hummed to herself. Then, a noise happened. One that sounded like a toilet flushing. Is she in a bathroom? She is! Daisy confirmed that a faucet was turned on.

"Okay. Room 716 is under the name of Edward Laffont. You know that sounds familiar," Odette remarked.

"Shit!" Daisy exclaimed, causing several people waiting for an elevator to glance over at her corner. "That's Olena's uncle."

"Aww, that bitch?" Odette questioned. "Ooh, fun fact: some of the suites on that floor have connecting doors between them. Finding that out explained so much about who was cheating with whom."

Another toilet flushed.

"Seriously? You went into a bathroom to talk to me."

"It's either that or a private room. And I'm not willing to fork over that much cash. I'm here to make some loot."

"Pri-Private Room?! Are you at a strip club?!" Daisy challenged.

"The Beehive."

"The Beehive?! Are you insane? Odie, you're going to get arrested...again. You're not old enough to be in there!" Daisy squealed. This time, she flicked her hand at the people who turned to glare at her.

"I'm not here for the eye candy. Besides, I'm not Odette Manske tonight. And I'm here to make momma some money. Oh, not that way! I'm talking about my way. The Jubb brothers are into some shady shit. Or should I say "sketchy" rather than "shady"? Hmm, I--"

"I don't care if you have a fake ID. You got orange hair! How many people in town have--Oh, gawd, you dyed it again, didn't you?"

"Nope. I got a wig on. Just in case I need to ditch this look fast," Odette explained. "I went with purple. Do you think I look okay with purple hair? I almost went with fuchsia, but I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself."

"Look, please don't get into trouble again. I'm too busy to bail you out--"

"Hey! Kick the stall door again, and I will introduce you to my taser. Got that, cunt?" Odie threatened before lowering her voice. "I need to go, Dais. Time to create a scene so I can slip into the office. Bye!"

"Today is a joyous day; a festive day...No, no, no, it's already dark outside," Dex pointed out to himself.

The younger Kirby sibling paced up and down a short, dead-end hallway near the back ballroom restrooms. Cursing at himself, Dex attempted a new opening.

"Miss Gibble, perhaps you would be gracious enough to engage in an interview concerning your neighbor, Sean Tarver. The insight that you can provide...Dammit, too formal! Get your head in the game, Dex!" Dexter scolded himself verbally and by slapping the side of his head.

Okay, I can do this. I can't let Daisy down. As Dad says, I'm a Kirby, and we can be kings of any kingdom if we manage our expectations. I can nail this interview and get Zoey to notice me. Zoey's the most beautiful girl inside and out at school. A goddess that can have any guy, who's going...to not pick me. Damn! Don't do this to yourself, Dex. Loosen up and act like your life doesn't depend on this moment.

"So, hey, Zoey, I was thinking that you might wanna hang out and tell me about Sean Tarver. I hear he's your neighbor, and I bet--"

"Oh, yes, Dex. I'd love to give you anything you want in my suite upstairs. But only if you wear a hat with a sign that says 'News' on it. And only that hat. I find that look so sexy."

Dexter swung his body around to find Seth Francy leaning against the wall. Shaking his head at his best friend, he sulked at the mocking tone.

"You do a horrible impression of a girl."

"And you overthink shit too much," Seth stated. "I told you not to stress out over talking to her. Just act naturally."

"That's easy for you to say. You never liked a girl in the way I like Zoey," Dex countered. His back hit the wall before sliding down it to sit on the floor.

"True. I also don't give myself an ulcer by stressing over a simple conversation."

"It's not simple!"

"It's also not a conversation that your life depends on. What? I've been your best friend for years. I know what goes on in your head when it comes to girls," Seth stated correctly. "Be yourself. Compartmentalize your crush. Treat her like any other girl you would interview. If you get that over with, then see what she thinks of you. Maybe this moment is merely the icebreaker."

"I know that's how I should think, but it's so hard," Dex moaned, palming his face with both hands.

"Alright, get up," Seth ordered, lightly kicking his friend's foot. "Get up!"

Once Dex stood up, Seth ordered him to brush his pants off.

"And brush off your butt. You probably sat in dirt or dust. I'm not doing it or walking around with you if you're dirty."

"Where are we going?"

"To see Zoey, of course!"

"No! Daisy ordered me not to use you for help," Dex relayed.

"Ah, Dais might be smart and hot, but she ain't your boss. Besides, you won't need to lie to her. We're going to hang out with the cheerleaders, and Zoey just happens to be with them," Seth revealed.

"Great. A bigger audience for when I ****," Dex groaned, but followed his more outgoing and confident friend.

"You're not going to ****. What you will do is interview a few of Zoey's cheerleader friends about Sean Tarver. You do that and watch Zoey ask you to interview her about Tarver," Seth explained, shocking Dex with an actual plan that could work. "Of course, it might work. And you're also going to flirt with her friends. Let's see how she reacts to that."

Daisy exited the elevator once it reached the seventh floor. Opting to investigate alone, she didn't want to pull anyone else from the main story on a hunch. Glancing around, she stood in the center of the H-shaped floor.

Next time, I'm bribing a desk clerk for the information. Odie is getting too out of control. She's going to end up in juvie at this rate. That girl pushes--Wha?

"Lord, have mercy!"

Although the shout came from the left and Daisy needed to head right, curiosity pulled her in the shriek's direction. Nearing the intersection of hallways, she peered around the corner.

Two doors down from her spot stood a man along with a housekeeping cart. However, the man didn't look like a maid in his suit. If anything, the guy looked like middle management material.

"Would you not shout? The Witzler doesn't need our other guests disturbed."

"Disturbed?! Are you looking at this mess? There ain't no way they didn't hear the foulness that went down to cause this putridness!" a woman's voice replied. Its faintness and the lack of any woman in the hall led Daisy to surmise that she stood inside the room.

"Well, we don't know what precisely happened in there. For all we know, the noise complaint came at the end," the junior manager stated.

"Don't know? I'm standing in the middle of a porno flick that exploded!" the housekeeper screamed. "You do realize semen is all over this sitting area. Well, don't you?"

"We're not precisely sure that it's all a man's ejaculate."

"A man? Boy, don't tell me you're a virgin? No one man did all this, and no woman who can squirt is getting it up that high on the wall."

"Look, I-I can't say what happened. No crime appears to have been committed, and we have finished recording the damages for any claim against the person who rented this suite. Now, we just need you to clean--"

"Oh, you better not expect me to do this single-handedly," the maid responded, her voice dripping with a don't-mess-with-me vibe.

"No, no, of course not. However, additional help won't be available for another hour," the junior manager reassured. Then, he hesitated before continuing, "Um, you should wait for the additional help before dealing with the bedroom."

"Oh, lord! It's worse in there, isn't it? Some days I swear this job ain't worth the nastiness I witness. Well? You can get your butt in here and move this dresser."

"Yeah, that's not my responsibility--"

"Get over here!" the housekeeper ordered the man who was likely her supervisor.

Daisy watched as the manager appeared uncertain about what to do until he took off his suit coat. Then, placing it delicately over the end of the cart, he rolled his sleeves up before entering the suite. During that time, Daisy saw it.

She saw what appeared to be a master keycard for the hotel or possibly just the seventh floor. Looking left, then right, and finally, behind her, Daisy mentally said fuck it. Dashing forward, she reached the open door. Barely glancing in, she held back a gag from the smell wafting out of the once pristine suite. Leaning forward, Daisy pulled the cart toward her slightly. All she needed was to obscure the fact that she was detaching the master keycard from the suitcoat.

Once in hand, Daisy rushed around the corner as quickly as she could in her heels. Rounding the corner, she slowed slightly. Speed-walking past the elevators, Daisy reached the other intersection and headed toward her target room.

Walking past Room 714, she heard a door slamming shut with a bang.

Room 716, the Laffont suite, sounded quiet.

With only a brief hesitation, Daisy walked over to Room 718. Knocking on the door, she waited for a response. Glancing around, she banged harder.

After a full minute, the dirty blonde checked over at the doors to rooms 715 and 717. Seeing no one around, Daisy lifted the master keycard toward the lock. Taking a deep breath, she inserted it, hearing the chime as the vibration unlocked through her grip on the door handle.

Pushing forward with slight pressure, Daisy suddenly heard a room door open. With a bit of panic, she looked over to see a man step out before turning back to speak to a person in Room 714.

Bolting forward, the junior reporter entered Room 718, shutting the door as quietly as she could. Only then did she notice the lights on in the suite.

"What was that?" came a distant voice. It sounded like a woman.

Uh-oh!

"I didn't hear anything," a man responded.

"Go check. Or I'm leaving," the woman threatened.

"Argh! Fine. Hand me my boxers."

Surveying the hall and the sitting room, Daisy evaluated her options and the available time.