Once Upon a Disaster

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by Holly Copella




  Once Upon a Disaster

  Holly Copella

  Copyright © 2017 Holly Copella

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1947694049

  ISBN-13: 978-1-947694-04-0

  To Uncle Neil

  &

  Aunt Lisa Morris

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Copella Books: First Paperback Edition 2017

  Printed by CreateSpace, An Amazon.com Company

  Cover Artist: Daniela Owergoor

  Dani-owergoor.deviantart.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Other books by Holly Copella!

  Chapter One

  A man in his late twenties fell against the wall while clutching his bleeding, bruised cheek. He could barely stand on his feet while cowering before his attacker. Griffin uncertainly lifted his eyes and looked at the man standing over him. Cody Riley wiped the blood from the pearl-handled grip of his semiautomatic handgun onto a handkerchief while eyeing the injured man, who now panted. Cody was an imposing figure, standing over six-foot-two. The man in his mid-twenties wasn’t excessively muscular, but his bleached white moderately spiky hair gave him the appearance of someone sinister. Cody was sinister. Griffin remained hunched against the wall with his hands out defensively in front of him, possibly expecting to be shot by the same gun that just struck him.

  “It was a mistake,” Griffin chirped with fear. “It won’t happen again. Give me another chance.”

  Cody aimed the gun at Griffin’s head, causing him to cry out with horror. As Cody’s finger tightened on the trigger, Griffin trembled with fear.

  “Let’s not be too hasty, Cody,” a man announced from the nearby shadows.

  Griffin now looked toward the man appearing for the first time since he was tossed into the basement corridor of the old apartment building. The man in his mid-thirties, wearing an expensive suit, paused several feet away from the potential crime scene. Jared Carmichael had a look that instantly screamed mob boss. His thinning hair was slicked back with expensive hair products, his fingernails professionally manicured, and he wore a permanent creepy grin chiseled on his face. A younger generation of Mafia, Jared lacked any sort of ethics from previous generations.

  “You stole from me,” Jared announced with a firm glare. “That’s not something I tolerate from any of my employees.” He then hesitated. “Even lowly club bartenders such as yourself.” Jared seemed to consider the situation. “You’re young and impulsive, I get it,” he remarked as a strange grin crossed his face. “I’m willing to forgive the money you’ve stolen from me. We’ll consider it a down payment on a job I’d like you to do for me.”

  “A job?” Griffin suddenly asked then appeared relieved as well as enthusiastic and managed a nervous laugh. “Yeah, sure. Anything. You name it.”

  “This afternoon, I want you to meet some colleagues at the Strafford Hotel on Main Street,” Jared announced. “Come in the back way through the parking garage to avoid the bellman. Be there at noon. Room 1020. Tell them I sent you. You follow their instructions, and we’ll call it even.”

  “Strafford at noon,” Griffin announced. “Room 1020. I’ll be there. Thank you, Mr. Carmichael.”

  Jared casually waved him off with little interest. “I abhor morning killings anyway.” He gave the man a firm glare. “Don’t be late,” he warned.

  “I won’t,” Griffin replied.

  §

  The Strafford Hotel was the ritziest hotel within the small city. It was the only place in town with a valet and a doorman. The twelve-story building was one of the tallest, although considered small compared to most hotels in larger cities. Griffin entered the hotel through the parking garage as instructed, to avoid being seen by the doorman. He rode the elevator up to the tenth floor and promptly arrived at room 1020 at noon with seconds to spare. Griffin gently tapped on the door, which was immediately opened, allowing him to enter.

  Griffin stepped into the lavish suite containing a sitting room, wet bar, and the bedroom off to the side. He barely glanced at the man standing alongside the door as he looked around the suite, his eyes falling upon the breathtaking view from the massive wall of windows. As the door shut, Griffin turned to the man who had let him inside. A hulking man, Bernard, stared down at him and nodded toward the bedroom.

  “In there,” the man announced.

  Bernard lacked emotion as well as personality. He wasn’t too hard on the eyes, but there wasn’t a lot going on inside his head either. He wore his dark hair pulled back in a four-inch ponytail, making his head look bigger than it already had looked. Griffin now appeared suspicious. He hesitated then reluctantly headed toward the open doorway before the bedroom. He stepped into the doorway and saw Cody waiting inside the bedroom. Griffin’s eyes immediately strayed to the king-sized bed where a woman lay naked beneath the sheets. He stared at the woman a moment before realizing she was unconscious or worse. He eyed Cody alongside him.

  “Is she--?”

  “This is how it’s going down,” Cody firmly instructed without bothering to reassure him of the woman’s condition. “We need leverage with another client. You’re going to strip down, get into bed with her, and I’m going to take a few dirty pictures as insurance.”

  “Just get into bed with her,” he announced. “Nothing else, right?”

  Cody chuckled in his throat, humored by the question. “Still pictures, idiot,” he announced. “We aren’t doing a porn video. Just cuddle the lady and let us take our pictures, so we can get out of here before she wakes.”

  Griffin nodded with less conviction and did as the man instructed. He was about to leave his briefs on, but Cody insisted they come off too. It was an odd request, although the entire situation was an odd request. Griffin
did as he was told, climbed into bed with the unconscious woman, and cozied up to her motionless body. He breathed a sigh of relief that her body was, in fact, warm, indicating she was still alive. Cody snapped at least twenty digital pictures with his cell phone, instructing Griffin how to hold the woman and what expressions he wanted him to make. On a few, Cody had to reposition the woman’s arm or head to help sell the shot. It was over in less than fifteen minutes. Cody fiddled with his cell phone then eyed Griffin.

  “We’re done here,” Cody announced while standing near Griffin’s pile of clothes. He placed his cell phone in his inner jacket pocket and eyed the man sitting beneath the sheets. “Get your ass dressed and take off. Take the parking garage entrance. Same as before.”

  Griffin tossed the sheet off him and was about to climb out of the bed when Cody lunged forward and punched him twice in the face, sending him back onto the bed. He hit him a third time, knocking him unconscious.

  Chapter Two

  The accounting firm of Wesson and Wesson was on the far end of town in a small industrial park located alongside several seedy looking businesses. Most of the businesses were either for sale or already out of business. The city hoped that the property would be bought by the city or big businesses, which would bring prosperity to their town.

  It was a little after 12:30 P.M. Amanda Quinn and Russ Thomas sat at the large table in the conference room with a husband and wife client. They were discussing the future of the couple’s company and how Wesson and Wesson could help their business grow. Amanda was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties with dark hair and a make-up free face. She was nearly as beautiful as she was smart. Russ was a few years older than Amanda. He was neither handsome nor unattractive. He was average height and build with less than memorable features. Amanda had done most of the talking, pitching their accounting firm to their potential clients. When she finished, it was Russ’ turn to close the deal. Russ was just about to speak when his phone vibrated on the table. He glanced at it and was about to push the silent button when something caught his attention.

  Amanda stared with silent surprise as Russ picked up the phone and pushed a button without even excusing himself. His face drained of color a moment then became bright red as his eyes narrowed with a look resembling anger. He barely managed a polite smile as he bolted up from his seat.

  “Excuse me,” he announced while stepping away from the table. “There’s been a family emergency.” He looked at Amanda. “I have to go.”

  Before she could question or protest his hasty departure, Russ hurried from the conference room, leaving her alone with their clients. Amanda stared after him with some surprise then managed a smile and looked back at the couple.

  “I’m sure everything is okay,” she informed them. “Why don’t I just finish our proposal myself?”

  The couple finally took their eyes off the door after Russ’ hasty departure and managed a smile then nodded.

  §

  Russ’ dark sedan raced up to the Strafford Hotel and barely slowed before the valet stand. He didn’t even hand his keys to the startled young man, who awaited orders to park the car. Russ ran for the front door, where the doorman barely had time to open the door for the angry man. The doorman and valet exchanged strange looks, uncertain what to make of what had just happened. The doorman shrugged.

  Once inside, Russ ran through the lobby in a whirlwind, shoved his way onto the elevator, and repeatedly hit number ten. There were three people on the elevator with him. His look of mayhem concerned them, considering the way they darted looks at the angry young man. On the first stop, all three passengers left the elevator, even though someone had obviously pushed the eighth floor. Russ shifted from foot-to-foot within the elevator, impatiently awaiting the tenth floor.

  When the elevator reached his floor, he bolted through the open doors and headed down the corridor. He briefly glanced at his cell phone then paused before room number 1020. Russ promptly pounded on the door. When there was no response, he pounded a little louder. Several doors on the tenth floor opened, allowing other guests to peer into the corridor to check on the commotion. The door finally opened. Russ bolted into the room, prepared to fight the first person he saw. When he turned toward the man who had opened the door, Bernard punched him several times in the face until he fell to the floor unconscious.

  §

  Griffin slowly woke with some disorientation. He was still naked beneath the covers in the king-sized bed alongside the young woman. He felt his aching face then looked at the woman lying beside him. Blood soaked through the white sheet and her face was ghostly pale. Griffin cried out while springing upward into a sitting position. As he looked across the room, he saw Cody casually seated in the chair alongside the bedroom door. Cody stood with little reaction, removed a semiautomatic containing a silencer from his hidden shoulder holster, and aimed it at Griffin. Griffin put his hands in the air defensively and attempted to protest. Cody pulled the trigger twice, firing two nearly silent shots into Griffin’s bare chest. Griffin collapsed to the bed, wheezed several times, and then expelled his last breath. Cody casually left the bedroom and ran into Bernard in the living room. Bernard picked up Russ’ unconscious body and carried him into the bedroom.

  Cody exchanged magazines in his gun and removed the silencer, placing both in his pocket. The big man held Russ up as Cody placed the gun into his limp hand. A pillow was already positioned over a large potted plant. Cody assisted Russ’ finger into pulling the trigger, firing the gun twice through the pillow nearly a foot away and into the potted plant. The thick dirt prevented the bullet from ripping through the pot, and the pillow kept the dirt from flying out. The goal was to have other guests hear the shots fired without leaving traces of four additional bullet holes. He waited only a second before firing another two shots. Bernard dropped Russ’ body with the gun still in his hand while Cody grabbed the bullet-riddled pillow and swiftly collected the discarded bullet casings. Bernard grabbed the potted plant, leaving behind an untouched plant similar to the one he carried. Both hurried from the bedroom and across the living room to the connecting door. They entered the connecting guestroom and locked the door behind them.

  Russ slowly woke on the bedroom floor and pulled himself to his feet. He saw his wife and an unfamiliar man lying dead in bed together. For a moment, he was unable to move. He then saw the gun on the floor near his feet. Russ twitched then ran from the room. As he entered the hallway, he heard the fire doors opening and several voices. Russ ran down the corridor. More sounds of commotion were heard coming from the second fire stairs. Russ looked around, saw the linen closet, and then bolted inside. He braced the door shut and attempted to sort out what had just happened. He looked around the linen closet.

  A maid’s cell phone was on the nearby cart. He grabbed the cell phone, punched in a number, and frantically typed on the small keypad. As he pressed the send button, someone attempted to open the linen closet door. Russ tossed the cell phone into the bin with the dirty linen then turned to face the door as it was thrown open. Two security guards stood in the doorway with their guns aimed at him.

  “Freeze!”

  Chapter Three

  It was nearly 1:30 P.M. Amanda sat behind her desk with her head in her hand while pounding on keys on her keyboard with the other. She was obviously annoyed with Russ for running out of their important meeting the way he had. It was now unclear whether or not they would get the big account. Her sister and brother-in-law trusted her with the account, and now it could be lost. Her cell phone vibrated across her desk. She glanced at the unknown number indicating a text message and chose to ignore it. Half an hour had passed, and Amanda’s mood hadn’t improved any. She groaned and allowed her head to fall against the desktop. There was a commotion in the hallway, causing her to glance toward her open door. Her sister, who was also her boss, poked her head into her office. Mandy was only a year or two older than Amanda, but they could almost pass for twins.

  “Did you hear ab
out Russ?” Mandy gasped with wide, horror-filled eyes.

  Amanda stared at her with surprise and possible alarm. “Russ? No, what happened?”

  “It’s all over the news,” Mandy announced. “He caught his wife in bed with another man and shot them both.”

  Amanda gasped while staring at her sister in disbelief. “Is that the text message he got during our meeting?”

  “I wasn’t even aware he’d left,” Mandy remarked with some surprise. “He tried to run from the police and fell from the roof of the Strafford Hotel.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “I know,” Mandy cried out then cringed. “That hotel has twelve floors!”

  A strange look crossed Amanda’s face as she stared at her sister. “His wife was with another man?” she almost demanded. “I don’t believe it.”

  “They were killed in bed together,” Mandy informed her. “Not much room for doubt, I’m afraid.”

  “She’d never cheat on him,” Amanda remarked almost more to herself.

  “It’s on the news in the breakroom,” Mandy announced then hurried from the office.

  Amanda sat back in her chair and sank into thought. She then eyed her cell phone, considered something, and snatched it from the desk. She checked the text message from the unknown number. Amanda suddenly shot up from her chair.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped then ran from the office.

  Amanda avoided those heading into the breakroom to sneak a peek at the news report of Russ’ double homicide and suicide then hurried into his office. She ran to his desk, tossed herself into his chair, and felt underneath the desk. She removed the flash drive from its hidden location then placed it down the front of her shirt as she stood and shoved her phone in her pocket. She hurried from Russ’ office before anyone would see her then joined the others in the breakroom.

  §

  Despite the commotion in the Strafford Hotel’s tenth-floor corridor, Cody and the hulking man relaxed on the sofa watching television. Both appeared moderately bored, but leaving didn’t seem to be an option. Bernard flipped through channels without staying on one program longer than a few seconds. Cody rested his temple on his fist and glared at the big man.

 

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