She looked to be just out of college, if such higher education was a prerequisite to man the front desk at a rural South Carolina hotel with a championship golf course. Like her morning counterpart, she wore a dark red blazer with a name tag. The afternoon desk clerk was named Jodi and she hailed from Farmington Hills, Michigan. With an inviting smile, Jodi asked if there was anything she could do for us. “There is, actually,” I said. “We’re interested in knowing who was staying in cottage eighteen over Thanksgiving weekend.” Jodi from Farmington Hills, Michigan, suddenly had the look of someone who didn’t quite get the joke. “Pardon me?” “Could you please tell me the name of the guest who was in cottage eighteen over Thanksgiving weekend? It was November twenty-eighth through December second, if that helps.” I offered a smile that suggested my request was nothing out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, Jodi was too smart to be taken in by it. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said with a frozen smile.
