“I don’t think it was a vision. It was more like a…a memory. I could still move, something I can’t do when I have a vision. But it was the awful feeling that came with it. Like, I couldn’t go on another single second if I didn’t get away from this bad thing that’s chasing me.”
Stiles handsome face came into focus. “What was chasing you?”
A helpless feeling of dread washed over me. “That’s the thing, Stiles. I don’t know. The only thing I know for sure is the woman in my vision’s been here—or near here. I know it. We need to find out the names of every single person who’s stayed in the rooms on this floor over the last year or so. Maybe longer. Something happened here, and if I were to make a speculation, it has to do with that nanny cam. Who knows how long it’s been here and what it saw, but ask yourself this: what do people use hidden nanny cams for? It’s not always to catch the nanny in the act of something horrible.”
Stiles blanched, his ruddy face going pale. “So you think maybe the person who’s responsible for the nanny cam was videoing women changing?”
“Or engaging in behind-closed-door activities…” I swallowed hard after saying those words out loud.
Stiles stayed silent for a second, both of us absorbing that information.
Gripping my hand, he squeezed it. “You’re right. So do we think the woman in your vision was here in one of the rooms, and someone used that hidden camera to try to exploit her? It happens all the time. I read about a case the other day where this guy stalked people for years and years on the Internet and got away with it, because there were really no definitive cyber laws against what he was doing.”
I scrubbed my eyes and forced myself to try to remember something else from my vision, but to no avail. “But there are laws about videoing someone without their knowledge. I think for sure the woman in my vision has something to do with it. I don’t know what happened here, but if this is about her, if this room is connected to her, it was bad enough that she’d want to end her life—if she hasn’t already.”
Stiles stiffened before he let go of my hand. “I’d better get to searching the rooms. You wanna stay or have you had enough?”
“My gut says you won’t find anything else. I’d definitely do a sweep of the room for fingerprints and all that good forensic stuff, but I don’t think you’re going to find anything else of significance.”
“Crud,” Stiles muttered.
That feeling of dread began to seep deeper into my bones, the feeling of urgency I couldn’t shake, and that meant I needed to figure this out—and soon.
But I had to get out of this room. It made my stomach hurt. “I’m outta here. I’ll text you if I find out anything. Have you talked to Clarissa yet? Or Millie?”
“There are two other guys who’ve been questioning them. If I get anything of significance, I’ll text you.”
“Ditto,” I called over my shoulder as I hurried out of the room and into the hallway.
I practically ran down the stairs to get out of the vicinity of that room and fell straight into Hobbs’s arms at the end of the staircase.
“Whoa there, Crockett. What happened?”
“Come with me.” I pushed him away from the stairs and back toward the lobby—away from the bad feeling I hadn’t been able to shake. “I’ll tell you over dinner. You wanna have something delivered? I don’t want to have to worry about people overhearing us, and I need to be somewhere that makes me feel good.”
He smiled at me, wrapping his arms around my waist and giving me a warm hug. “Sounds good to me.” Over Hobbs’s shoulder, I happened to see Abel Ackerman, zipping through the center of the lobby as though he was being chased by the hounds of Hell. “There’s Abel. Let’s catch him and see if he knows anything about Joey before he runs off to put out another fire.”
“Abel!” Hobbs called out with a sharp whistle.
He turned at the call of his name and frowned, but I stepped out of Hobbs’s hulking shadow and waved him over, and he smiled.
As he approached us, he tucked his clipboard under his armpit, his steps crisp and made with precision as he dodged guests preparing for dinner.
I greeted him with a warm smile. “Abel. How are you? I mean, under the circumstances.”
His lean face screwed up into a look of distaste. “Well, if you consider there’s been a murder, and now I hear a webcam was found in the Talbots’ room, which I suppose means we have a peeping Tom? So on a scale of one to ten, I’m gonna give today a big fat minus zero.”
Laughing, I nodded. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. Abel was a nice enough guy. He’d been at the lodge for about a year, taking over guest services when Sally Longworth had left to go off to Hawaii for a guest services position with a big hotel on Honolulu.
I didn’t know a lot about him, other than we’d seen each other from time to time at various establishments around Marshmallow Hollow, and he was always friendly and polite.
Though, Saul always spoke kindly of him, even if he’d labeled him “anal.” In his line of work, being detail-oriented had to be a benefit.
He came from Idaho, after doing a cruise ship stint. In his late twenties, he was nice, direct, and most of all, clean-cut and easily relatable—another quality essential in dealing with guests.
“It’s been a rough day for you, I’m sure, and now you have all these guests to contend with who can’t do any of the activities they paid to do. This has to be a nightmare for you,” I sympathized.
He sighed and nodded. “If you only knew.” Then he straightened his spine as though to remind himself whining wouldn’t get him anywhere. “So what can I do for you, Miss Valentine?”
“Just call me Hal, and I was wondering if you knew anything about Joey Scarpetti?”
He blinked and cocked his dark blond head. “Like? We didn’t work in the same areas of the lodge. He was food service, I’m guest services. Though, to be real honest, today I almost wish I was in food service,” he answered with a small, ironic laugh.
“Did you know him at all? It seems like no one really knew Joey. I know he wasn’t here very long, but I was just trying to get some insight on him.”
“Because you’re Marshmallow Hollow’s answer to Jessica Fletcher?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or teasing me.
“Because Saul’s my friend and I was hoping to help him out.”
Abel put his head down and looked at his feet before meeting my eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound rude. It’s just what everyone’s saying about you and your cowboy.”
Yeah, and it was starting to make me cranky. But I couldn’t tell anyone why I was trying to help, now could I? Or even how I could help, for that matter. Still, I didn’t love his tone, but I decided to ignore it in favor of any information I could get my hands on when it came to Joey Scarpetti.
“It’s fine, Abel. Anyway, did you ever get a chance to talk to Joey? Hang out?”
He smiled again, almost in a fond way. “In passing, but mostly my job keeps me on the outskirts of the kitchen. We said hello and good morning, etcetera, etcetera. Just the usual pleasantries among co-workers, you know?”
“So nothing unusual? You never saw any arguments with anyone, nothing out of the ordinary?”
Abel ran a knuckle over his chin. “Nothing really unusual. He was a pretty nice guy for the most part, kept to himself.”
I swear, if I heard Joey was a nice guy one more time… Who kills nice guys, and why? What did Joey know that got him killed?
“We’ve heard that from virtually everyone we’ve talked to since this afternoon,” Hobbs remarked.
Abel paused for a moment, then he said, “Hang on. That’s not entirely true. He wasn’t always nice…” he eluded. “Maybe this is a stretch, when it comes to whether he was nice or not, but there was one time I heard him on his cell with someone, and I heard him say he had some stuff going on and he wasn’t sure when he’d be back. I don’t know what the other person said, but his face got really red at t
he response. It was probably the most emotion I’ve ever seen him show since he’d started at the lodge.”
My alarm bells began to sing. “So he appeared angry?”
Abel scratched his head. “Angry, frustrated, something like that. Maybe he had a girlfriend back home in Wisconsin who wanted him to come back? I don’t know.”
That sick feeling, which had begun to dissipate, returned in my stomach. “When did this happen?”
“Just a few days ago. I remember because I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off, readying things for a group from the UK. They had a list of requests as long as my arm. What is a toad in the hole, anyway?” He shook his head and smiled. “Anyway, Joey was right outside the laundry room. I go there sometimes to get some peace and quiet, and he was in the hallway, on his cell. When he saw me, he held up a hand as though to apologize and walked off down the hall. And that was it.”
Hobbs crossed his arms over his chest and I sensed skepticism in his next question. “And that’s all you heard? Were those his exact words?”
“Yes, sir,” he answered before he looked at his phone. “Listen, I’m swamped and I have to get back to my guests. We’re having the scavenger hunt here tonight instead of at the ice festival. Boy, did that take some rearranging with Clarissa. But that’s okay. She’s fun to work with. Anyway, I really gotta run. Anything else?”
I shook my head, mostly because my stomach was in knots. “No, Abel. That’s all, but if you think of anything, take my number and give me a call. And make sure you tell the police what you told me.”
He winked and wagged his fingers at us. “Already done. Bye, guys.”
“He’s a congenial guy, huh?” Hobbs commented.
“I feel like that statement has some subtext on the side.”
Hobbs put his hand at my waist. “You could be right. He kinda rubs me the wrong way, and I don’t know if it’s his eternally sunshiney attitude or if it’s just me.”
“Well, he did time on a cruise ship. Isn’t it mandatory that you have an eternally sunshiney attitude?”
“Fair enough. It definitely feels fake. But maybe the cruise ship thing is it.”
“I’m not sure I agree, but I can tell you, I’m starving. Let’s go home and order takeout.”
As suddenly as Hobbs agreed, I heard Ansel calling my name. “Hal? Funny I should find you here,” he quipped.
Without warning, Hobbs swept me up in his arms and planted a kiss on my lips, one so long and so earth-shattering, I forgot all about coming up with an explanation for Ansel.
“Oh, didn’t mean to intrude,” he muttered as he slipped past us and headed up the stairs, obviously heading to the Talbots’ vacant room.
“Take me home, please?” I whispered against Hobbs’s lips.
“Your chariot’s right outside. C’mon, beautiful. Let’s blow this joint and get you fed.”
As Hobbs led me from the lodge, his strong hand gripping mine, the horrible feeling began to dissipate. As we drove back to the house, it eased completely.
But the fear of messing this up? That stayed with me.
We’d ordered Chinese and as I sat in front of the fire in the dining room, nibbling at my walnut shrimp, my favorite from Wu’s, I was finally able to catch my breath.
“Halliday, I would have cooked for you both,” Atti chastised as I swallowed some fried rice. He flew to the table and sat in front of my plate.
“Sometimes I just need some Wu’s walnut shrimp, ya know? Anyway, distract me, tell me how your day was.”
His feathers ruffled, the beautiful colors shimmering under the glow of Christmas lights. “Not nearly as dreadful as yours, I assure you. I narrowly escaped the black maw of Philistine, and Ms. Streisand finds the ornaments on the tree quite a grand time. Stephen King, however, is as always the perfect gentleman.”
Hobbs chuckled, seemingly unbothered by Atti talking to us, which meant he’d begun to accept and adjust. Or at least I hoped that was the case.
“Philistine.” He repeated the nickname Atti had for Phil. “Funny.”
“There’s nothing I live for more than being your court jester,” Atti assured him as he lifted off the table and flew to another part of the kitchen.
Hobbs laughed again. “Don’t be sore, Atticus. Being funny is a compliment.”
I chuckled, too. “Atti is nothing if not all business.” Wiping my mouth, my stomach feeling better, along with my state of mind, I asked, “So, the scavenger hunt tonight. I got a text that confirms they’ve moved it inside the lodge. You still want to go?”
Hobbs reached across the table and gazed at me with his dreamy blue eyes. “I’m fine with goin’. The question is, how are you, and are you up to it?”
I’d told Hobbs what I’d experienced in the Talbots’ room, and he was his usual understanding self. We’d considered asking to see the other rooms on the floor to see if I got the same feeling of dread, but it would only usurp the guests and make their stay more chaotic.
I had to leave that up to the police.
“I think if we don’t, we might miss something. Plus, we still need to talk to Millie from housekeeping. I’m sure she’ll be there because she has grandchildren.”
Leaning back in his chair, Hobbs stretched his long arms. “Okay, so let’s go over what we have and our possible suspects, so I can be up to speed. We have the victim, Joey, who’s dead. Then there’s Sabrina, who’s somehow involved with Joey. Joey isn’t really Joey but someone else entirely. Someone whose ID remains a mystery.”
Nodding, I pulled my phone out and looked at the notes I’d jotted down throughout the day. “And Sierra heard him talk to Sabrina about a purple ornament and erasing something—a something we have no clue about.”
Hobbs nodded, putting his napkin on his plate of finished food. “Also, there’s Clarissa. She overheard Joey get upset with Millie, the head housekeeper—which we’ve heard a hundred times isn’t like him—about the rooms, but we don’t know what room or why he cared about it. He’s obviously never been to the lodge before, or Saul would have mentioned knowing him before he became an employee.”
A spark of a thought hit me square in my face. Something I hadn’t put together until Hobbs mentioned the room and Millie. “So if we go by what we’ve learned so far, and Joey wanted to know who’d stayed in the lodge’s rooms—where ironically, a webcam was found today—is it a stretch to think Joey knew about the webcam and either wanted to remove it or see what was on it? Maybe that’s what he meant by erasing something? Maybe he’s responsible for the webcam?”
“But if he’s responsible for the webcam, why wouldn’t he know what room it was in?”
I hopped up from the chair at the dining room table and began to pace because my legs wouldn’t let me sit still. We were onto something. I felt it in my soul. “Maybe he wasn’t responsible for putting it in the room. Maybe someone he loves, like Sabrina, is being exploited on that webcam and Joey came to find out who was doing it!”
Now Hobbs rose, too, making our resident pets stir in their beds by the fire. “A solid explanation. But why the mystery? Why did he sign up for a job at the lodge under a fake identity, just to find a webcam? Why wouldn’t he just ask Sabrina what room she’d stayed in? And what difference does the room make, anyway? He couldn’t have expected the webcam would still be there, could he? And lastly, why wouldn’t he call the police and report it?”
That stopped me cold. “I don’t know. And we won’t know if we can’t find out who he really is. Then we can potentially see if he’s filed a police report. Though, the whole video cam thing is iffy when it comes to the law—or at least it was in that one episode I watched on Investigation ID. But the bigger question is, why would he take on the task himself? And is that what got him killed?”
“And we still don’t have any solid suspects,” Hobbs reminded me as he began clearing plates.
I joined him, grabbing our empty wine glasses to put in the dishwasher. “There’s still Marcelle to con
sider. I know you doubt him as a possible suspect because he’s smaller in stature, but stranger things have been known to happen.”
Hobbs flipped on the tap and began rinsing dishes. “I do doubt he’s a suspect. I definitely doubt he was whoever knocked us over tonight on the hill. That guy was no slouch.”
I threw the towel over my shoulder and began to put away our leftovers. “You know what we haven’t done? We haven’t looked at any of the Facebook profiles for the people we’ve talked to today. And I have to look up Sabrina. I’ll try under Scarpetti, but I think we both know it’s a long shot at best. But that purple ornament was for her. I don’t need any proof to tell me that. Now, we have to figure out how Joey and Sabrina are connected, and I really think it has to do with the webcam. Speaking of, we need to see the guest registry for the last year. Let me put that on my list of things to ask for from Saul.”
As we quietly cleaned the kitchen together, I thought about the multitude of events that had happened over the course of the day, trying to string them all together to build a suspect, but no one really fit.
Every one of the people we talked to said Joey was a nice guy, with the exception of two circumstances where he’d appeared agitated, and neither instance involved the person who’d witnessed it.
Sighing, I grabbed the garbage from the trash can and decided to take it out. Maybe the bitter cold air would help me see clearer.
“I’m gonna take the garbage out. Be right back,” I muttered, heading to the mudroom to throw on my jacket.
As I trudged to the garbage bin, I kept going over and over the connection between Joey and Sabrina.
Was Sabrina the reason Joey was here and wanted to erase something? And what was on that dang webcam? It made perfect sense that he’d use the word “erase” if something unsavory were on it, yes. But how unsavory was unsavory?
The questions niggled me as I lifted the lid of the garbage to hurl the bag inside, only to catch sight of the trash Troy had gathered and thrown away for me this morning. I’d forgotten about it, but now in hindsight, those items could be important.
Carnage in a Pear Tree Page 9
