Taking a shortcut, they trekked down the hall separating the spa from the fitness center.
Zigging and zagging around the free weights, the trio passed by the room used for aerobic classes and product demonstrations.
On the other side were the treadmills and Peloton bikes. Along the back wall were shelves of towels. A fridge with chilled towels sat on top. Next to the fridge was a water cooler filled with lemon-infused water.
“Lemon water.” Gloria reached for a cup and hesitated.
“Help yourself. The water is for everyone,” Millie said.
She poured a cup and sipped the tart concoction. “This is a well-equipped fitness center.”
“Only the best for our guests,” Millie said. “Although we have a small gym for the crew members downstairs, most of them come up here to work out and lift weights.”
Gloria pointed to the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering an unobstructed ocean view. “With a view like this, I can see why.”
Millie waited until her cousin finished her water. “What were you going to show us?”
“This door was spray-painted with the word ‘Fix’ and nothing else.”
“Fix,” Millie repeated. “My office door said cow.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Camille took them to an enclosed area located directly behind the cabinets and beverage station, to a room Millie had never noticed before.
The walls were filled with metal cabinets. On closer inspection, she noticed clear glass doors, all of which appeared to be locked.
“Check this out.” Camille tapped the top of a lever lock. “You can see someone tried prying this open.”
“The vandals did this?”
“It appears so.”
Gloria squinted her eyes. “What were they after?”
“High-end energy drinks. Giselde is around here somewhere. Let me track her down.” Camille took off, promising to return shortly.
While they waited, Millie pulled her cell phone from her pocket and typed “Fire Up energy drinks” into the search bar. A full page of ads filled the screen.
Gloria peered over her shoulder, watching her click on a link. She sucked in a sharp breath. “Whoa.”
“Are you noticing what I’m noticing? These energy drinks cost fifty dollars per ounce.”
Camille returned, followed by Giselde, the fitness instructor, a surly woman who rarely smiled and reminded Millie of a drill sergeant. “Hello.”
“Hey,” Giselde gruffly replied.
“Millie and I were wondering about Fire Up.” Camille mentioned the vandalism and how it appeared that someone had tried prying the cabinet open. “What exactly is this stuff?”
“Potent energy boosters. It’s not sold in the US. We buy it from a company in France.”
Millie wrinkled her nose. “Does it sell?”
“Like hotcakes to a very discerning group of fitness geeks,” Giselde said. “Which is why we keep it locked up.”
“So, a passenger buys this stuff to boost their energy or metabolism.” Millie bit her lower lip, her mind whirling. “Why would the vandals be interested in it?”
