Deadly Getaway

by Laura Bradford

  Shaking her head against the useless images, Elise turned her gaze back to the desk area where she stood. A swivel chair sat empty, its exact color hard to pinpoint in the dimly lit room.

  “Annie? Are you here?” she called out, her voice echoing in the empty room.

  “Maybe she’s with a guest.” Brad walked toward the hearth, stopped briefly to rub his hands back and forth near the flames. “I imagine she’s got her hands full with people who aren’t used to a blizzard like this one. A lot of unsettled nerves. And that’s without some of ’em knowing what’s really going on.”

  Elise looked back at the desk, at the empty chair, the turned-over wastebasket, the assortment of pens scattered on the floor, and the long red scarf she hadn’t noticed at first glance. She squinted in the lantern’s pale light as her gaze traveled the path of the scarf.

  “Elise?”

  Somewhere in her subconscious she heard Mitch’s voice, but her gaze, her attention, followed the scarf that stretched across the seat of the chair. A wide expanse of fabric that resembled a winding snake in search of its prey.

  Leaning forward, Elise craned her neck to see over the countertop. A woman’s shoe rested at the base of the chair.

  She heard the scream escape her lips, tasted the bile that rose in her throat, felt the weakness in her legs as she gripped the counter for support.

  Annie lie on the floor facedown, the end of her red scarf knotted tightly around her neck.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elise knew she needed to stand up, to do whatever she could to help. But her stomach still felt so queasy, her legs rubbery.

  Mitch and Brad were deep in conversation behind the desk, Annie’s motionless body just inches from their feet. Elise shivered.

  No matter what Mitch said, she couldn’t shake the feeling of overwhelming guilt that flooded her being the instant she saw Annie.

  Elise tightened her grip on the soggy wet tissue in her left hand and brushed it quickly across her eyes. Could she have done something different? Forced Annie to stay at the station until the guys had finished with the man’s sled?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  The sound of footsteps from the floor above echoed in her head, forced her thoughts away from Annie’s decision and onto the other people in the hotel. Maybe someone had heard something, saw something.

  But then again, no one had heard her scream when she saw the body. And Mitch and Brad were fairly certain that the tipped-over trash can and scattered pens meant Annie had struggled with her killer.

  Elise pushed herself up off the chair and inhaled slowly, deeply. Sitting around wasn’t going to bring Annie back.

  She looked across the room, her gaze falling on the darkened computer screen to the right of the desk chair.

  The computer.

  “That’s it!”

  “Elise? You okay?”

  Realizing she had spoken aloud, Elise clapped a hand over her mouth. But it was too late. She’d caught his attention.

  Mitch was out from behind the desk and beside her before she could say another word. “Sit back down, Elise. We’ll take care of this.”

  She felt his warm fingers under her chin, the gentle upward nudge of her face until her eyes finally met his.

  “Elise?”

  “I’m okay, Mitch. I just can’t sit here anymore. I’ve got to do something. And the computer gave me an idea.”

  “Computer?”

  “The one behind the desk. They must keep a record of all guests who check in and the rooms that they are given.”

  Mitch’s gaze left her face and moved across the room to the computer. “There’s no power, Elise.”

  “I know. But they still had to keep track some way.”

  Mitch exhaled loudly and clapped his hands together. “Oh, man, that’s great. Do you feel up to looking?”

  Elise reached out and touched Mitch’s right hand. “Yeah, I do. I can’t sit back any longer.”

  “Okay, then let’s get to work.” Mitch kissed her on the top of her head, whispered in her ear, “We’ll be okay.”

  “I know.”

  Elise headed for the desk area, Mitch in tow. As she rounded the corner she forced her eyes away from Annie’s body and onto the computer. This particular area was still neat and orderly, with only the essentials in sight of the guests.

  The shadow of a flashlight to the left of the computer caught her eye, and it didn’t take long to figure out why Annie had kept one there. This area of the clerk’s desk received little light from the kerosene lamp on the registration counter, making it almost impossible to see anything—let alone read or write.

  She reached for the flashlight and switched it on, moved the beam around. A large wicker basket filled with assorted travel-sized hygiene items sat to the left of where the flashlight had been. Most of the basket’s items were arranged neatly in groups of four: four soaps, four shampoos, four toothbrushes, four conditioners, four razors, three bottles of shaving cream.

  Elise moved the flashlight to the right, its beam illuminating two lone objects on the blotter beside the keyboard. The first item was a folder of guest invoices, the second a small brown notebook with a single word across the cover.

  Guests.

  Eagerly, she flipped it open.

  “What’re you guys doing back there?”

  Elise instinctively shut the book. A shadowy figure stood on the other side of the counter.

  Brad’s greeting identified the man.

  “Aw, man, Jonathan, you scared the crap out of us.”

  Elise walked over to where Mitch and Brad stood, resisted the urge to look down at Annie.

  “What’s going on?”

  Mitch jerked his head in the direction of the stairs and then spoke quietly, careful to keep his voice from being heard by anyone other than the four of them.

  “We’ve got another body.”

  The light from the kerosene lamp captured the surprise on Jonathan’s face. “Who? Where?”

  Mitch stepped back and pointed downward. “The desk clerk.”

  Jonathan was behind the desk in an instant, kneeling beside Annie’s body. “I just talked to her when I came back from the station. I showed her how to use the walkie-talkie if she needed anything.” His voice trailed off as he shook his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t she call for help?”

  Mitch shrugged. “She came to the station after you left this afternoon. Said she checked someone in last night. Hours after the last plane arrived. After the power went out. Raised her suspicion a little bit.”

  Mitch ran his hand across his eyes and over his hair before continuing. “She headed back over here while we helped some guy get his sled out of a snow bank. But by the time we got over here to find out who this mystery guest is and what room he checked into, she was dead.”

  It was hard not to cringe as she listened to Mitch fill Jonathan in on the happenings at the police station after he’d left. When Mitch got to the part about Mark, Elise stared at the floor. At Annie.

  There was no doubt that Mark was quiet, even a little aloof, but she’d bet her last dollar that he wasn’t the killer.

  Jonathan rose to his feet and looked at Elise. “You okay, hon?”

  Elise nodded slowly. “I’m hoping I can find something in these records that’ll help us out.” She motioned to the computer area.

  Jonathan cleared his throat, turned toward Mitch and Brad.

  “You guys okay to take care of the body?”

  “Yeah.” Mitch’s confident tone was a stark contrast to the uncertainty in Brad’s face.

  “Okay then. I’ll go through guest records with Elise and see if we can’t find something that will tell us who this mystery guest is.”

  Elise led Jonathan to the computer area and picked up the flashlight once again. Its large circular beam shone down on the invoice folder and the guest notebook.

  She flipped the book open, ran a trembling finger down the names assigned to each room as Jonathan searched the desk. A
few of the guys from the orienteering group were on the list, names Elise recognized from listening to Sophie at the restaurant during the search for Pete Garner. Drew Riker, Josh Cummings, Mark Tallberg . . .

  “Mark!”

  Elise stared at the book, her mind reeling. Once again, everything came back to the burly redhead. Maybe Mitch was right.

  “Well, well, well, would you look at that. Hey, Mitch, Brad. Come here.” Jonathan raised his hand in the air and motioned to the men. “Three guesses on who shows up in the guest book.”

  Jonathan took the small brown notebook from Elise’s grip and placed it in Mitch’s outstretched hand.

  Elise shined the flashlight above the notebook and waited as Mitch read the list of names aloud.

  “Jim and Carrie Sanders, Drew Riker, Josh Cummings, Luke and Sasha Meeton, Mark Tallberg.” Mitch whistled under his breath and shook his head. “He’s like a bad penny that keeps turning up, isn’t he?”

  “Should we go get him?” Brad shifted from foot to foot, his voice increasing in pitch with each word he spoke. “Let’s pull him in and put an end to this now.”

  “You can’t do that,” Elise said. “He’s quiet. That’s all you’ve got. That’s not a crime.”

  She could hardly believe the words that tumbled from her mouth, but she couldn’t stop them once they started.

  “What about the reunion group? And Mark’s name is too far down the page to be the man who checked in last night. We should be focused on this name.” Elise moved her index finger to the last name in the guest book.

  John Smith.

  Just like Annie said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Mitch leaned against the desk and studied the guest book. “We can check his room, see if he came back, but . . .”

  Elise studied Mitch closely, recognized the familiar look creeping across his face. A look that meant he had a plan. “But what?”

  “But my gut still points to Mark. I told him Annie was ready to ID our man as a way to rattle him. Now she’s dead.”

  She gasped. “Mitch, you can’t really think that’s why . . .”

  “Of course I can. Mark needs to be watched. Closely. And who better to do that than you, Jonathan.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because you’re staying here too and he doesn’t know you’re a cop.”

  Jonathan’s head bobbed slowly, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Makes sense. Consider me on the job.”

  “Then you probably shouldn’t be back here with us in case he walks into the lobby.” Elise spoke quietly, hoped she wasn’t overstepping.

  “She’s right, Jonathan. You better head out of here.” Mitch stepped backward and began to search the shelves under the registration desk. “Where do you think Annie put the walkie-talkie you gave her?”

  “Right here.” Jonathan grabbed a small rectangular object from beside the wicker basket and held it up for everyone to see. “I just hope it helps us more than it helped her.”

  “Hey! What’s going on here?”

  The foursome turned simultaneously and stared at the young man who stood before them, hands on hips, a look of irritation on his face.

  “Hey, Tom. It’s okay.” Brad stepped forward into the lantern’s light. “It’s me, Brad.”

  “Oh, hey, sorry about that, Brad. What are you doing back here? And who are they?” The young man motioned at the rest of them. “Where the heck is Annie? She knows she’s supposed to be on desk duty.”

  “Tom, this is my friend Detective Mitch Burns.” Brad pointed at Mitch, then pointed at Elise. “This is Elise Jenkins. And that’s Jonathan Moore—but you probably know him by now.”

  “I’ve only seen Annie since I’ve been here,” Jonathan said quietly. “I guess my comings and goings haven’t coincided with Tom’s shift.”

  The desk clerk exhaled loudly through clenched teeth, tapped his foot on the wood floor. “Where the hell is Annie? I swear this is not my day. My damn snowmobile was out of gas, so I ended up having to hoof it back here in the snow . And now Annie’s nowhere to be found. She’s not supposed to leave until she’s covered.”

  “Your snowmobile was out of gas?” Mitch’s words were terse, angry.

  “Yeah.” Tom nodded, his eyes wide, yet tired. “It’s the strangest thing too. I thought I had a full tank of gas when I left. But no siree. The stupid needle on the gas gage must be frozen along with everything else.”

  Elise could feel the tension coming from Mitch as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Brad had sworn he’d had a full tank too. Was it a coincidence? Or was the killer tampering with their only form of real transportation?

  “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but where’s Annie?” Tom asked again. “Why are you guys behind the desk?”

  Brad looked at Mitch and shrugged. Elise felt sorry for Brad. It was obvious he had come to this island to pursue a career he’d probably dreamt of since he was a boy, yet really wasn’t cut out to do. And now, the safety of so many was in his hands. A responsibility he was more than willing to push onto Mitch.

  She shifted from foot to foot as Mitch took hold of Tom’s shoulder and guided him to a quiet corner of the lobby where they could talk in peace. Peace that would be shattered, once again, as another innocent person learned of the fate closing in on all of them.

  “You okay, Elise?”

  Why was it that everyone seemed to feel as if Mitch would make things right? That Mitch would fix everything and make it better? Why didn’t anyone ever worry about him?

  “Elise?”

  Her eyes lingered on Mitch, now sitting in a tiny corner of the lobby with Tom and Brad, his mouth moving as he undoubtedly told the young clerk about Annie’s tragic death.

  “Elise?”

  She forced her attention onto Jonathan’s tall form, the silver walkie-talkie in his hand.

  The walkie-talkie.

  “Elise, are you okay?”

  “Huh?” She shook her head against the vague but troubling thoughts that seemed to rise just to the surface before slipping deep into her subconscious. “What did you say?”

  “I asked if you’re okay. You seem like you’re on another planet right now.”

  “I wish I was.”

  She felt Jonathan’s gentle squeeze on her shoulder.

  “This will all be over soon, you’ll see.” He slipped the walkie-talkie into his pocket. “Tell Mitch I’m heading out before Mark shows up. I’ll check in with you guys soon.”

  She smiled faintly and nodded as Jonathan headed into the shadows of the lobby and disappeared up the staircase.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elise peered around the tiny registration area one last time, her eyes lingering on the guest book beside the invoice folder. What was it that was bothering her so much? Everything was exactly as it had been when she began her search, so what was the problem?

  She moved the swivel chair into place under the computer monitor, her thoughts replaying the events of the past hour. Tom had taken the news of Annie’s death fairly well. Sure, he’d been rattled, but he seemed to have a little bit of Mitch’s spirit—the kind that faced adversity head-on. He’d even shown Mitch a few of the karate moves he knew in case someone tried to attack him.

  She hated the thought that Mitch, Brad, and Tom were temporarily burying Annie under the snow behind the hotel. But it made sense. The cold snow would provide a refrigeration effect, which was the best they could do until the blizzard was over. Still, she couldn’t wait for them to be done.

  Her fingers brushed lightly across the cover of the guest book, and her eyes lingered once again on the invoice folder and wicker basket filled with travel items. What was it that was nagging her thoughts?

  A thump on the registration desk made her turn. Mark’s scowling face was barely visible in the dim light from the lantern.

  “What do I need to do to get a safe around—”

  He stopped speaking as a spark of recognition flashed across his face.


  “What are you doing here?”

  Elise felt her mouth drop open, her cheeks redden.

  Her heart leapt in her chest as the door off the back hallway clicked and the sound of footsteps headed in their direction.

  Gratefully, she turned and waited for Mitch to emerge from the tiny hallway that linked the registration desk to the back door.

  “She should be okay there until this damn storm lets up and we can give her a proper bur—”

  The second Mitch stepped through the door, Elise jerked her eyes in the direction of Mark. His jaw tightened and a protective arm slid around her waist.

  “Hey, Mark. What’s up?”

  “I was just asking your girlfriend here that same question. I can’t help but feel like you guys have an issue with me.”

  “What makes you say that?” Mitch asked.

  “You’re always staring at me. During the search, at Sophie’s, after I helped get that sled out of the ditch, now.”

  “Sorry you feel that way, Mark.”

  “If you’ve got a problem, spit it out. If not, leave me alone.” Mark’s scowl deepened as he looked from Mitch to Brad to Elise and back again. Finally, he waved his hand in the air. “Where’s the desk clerk?”

  Tom stepped forward. “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “I need a safe.”

  “Right away, sir. We’ve got several here behind the desk.”

  Mark looked back at Mitch and leaned forward on the counter. “If you guys are wanting something to do while you try to figure out who killed Pete, maybe you should take care of some other police business.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I could use a little protection from that idiot Josh.”

  “Josh Cummings?” Mitch crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Mark.

  “Yeah. From the orienteering club. I caught the bastard trying to get into my room.”

  Tom stepped forward, grabbed for the pen and paper on the counter. “What would he want in your room, sir?”

  “My prize money, that’s what.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  8:00 p.m.