“What’s the problem? You’re scaring the hotel staff.” Thankfully, she doesn’t answer. What am I going to do with her? No one is safe. I’m tempted to call Agustina and ask her to deactivate the doll, but I know it isn’t that easy. I’m definitely not keeping her when I get home. Not any longer than it takes me to get rid of whoever appears to be stalking me.
I talked to Levi last night. He told me Maybelle refuses to give him the key to the airport locker. She says he has to take her with him, and he isn’t willing to do that. I knew I could count on those two not cooperating with each other.
Levi also said the security system is installed. Now that it is, I’m not happy about it. I don’t want to live in a fortress or have a security company monitoring my activities. So far, Levi said, the cameras haven’t captured any suspects. I didn’t ask how many cameras are watching the place.
I grab a bunch of tissues and remove Rita from the paper bag. “You have to be quiet. Cleaning people are basically good, and we don’t need the attention that you’re getting. Understand?”
She doesn’t move an inch. Her eyes are cold and empty. “You can stay out while I’m gone. Don’t mess with Mojo or you’ll end up in a million pieces, and one of you is more than enough.”
I lock the door behind me and press the elevator button to the thirteenth floor. It goes up, but the door doesn’t open so I go back to the lobby. Aubrey is nowhere around. I make a beeline to the exit and the jeep.
The Play Box is a toy store for adults who never wanted to grow up. The neon pastels are exploding my psychic senses. So are the price tags on everything from designer teddy bears to train sets. There are a lot of uhs and ahs and giggling going on. I wouldn’t last an hour in this place. The woman at the counter is busy with a few customers who are all very chatty. I get close enough to see her name tag: Hi, I’m Miriam! Ask me anything! Will do, Miriam.
My brain has been busy trying to figure out how I’m going to bring up the horrifying scene the woman saw fifteen years ago. If she is indeed the hotel’s former housekeeper, I may be undoing years of therapy in asking her to revisit the incident.
The jolly customers take their prized possessions and exit the store. Miriam goes to the back room. I linger around the counter waiting for her return. I’ve decided to tell the woman that I need help picking out a present for my niece– which I don’t have– then mention that I’m staying at the Herman Hotel. I expect her reaction will give me a clue as to whether I have the right person.
As soon as she steps out of the back, I wave. Her friendly smile may not last long. I ask for help selecting something for a twelve year old. She’s up to the task and leads me to a wall of dolls.
“I’m on my way to North Carolina,” I say. She’s excited for me. “It’s… Lorie’s birthday and I can’t go empty handed.”
She’s waving an array of dolls in my face, all with shocking price tags.
“I’m not sure. Do twelve year olds still play with dolls these days?” She assures me that all little girls love dolls. “I may need to call her mother for advice. I’m staying at the Herman Hotel a few more days, so I can stop back by before I leave.” My eyes are glued on the woman, and she doesn’t disappoint when I say the hotel’s name.
She wobbles a little and pulls back. I keep talking to prevent her from walking away. “It’s a beautiful hotel. I understand they’re having a grand reopening. Have you ever stayed there?”
“Never,” she says. A customer is at the counter and she rushes away.
Maybe she’s never stayed at the hotel, but I’m almost certain she once worked there. Now what? After Boshears warned me to keep a low profile until she figures out if she wants to go through with her ghost publicity stunt, I told her it wasn’t an option not to try to learn who is haunting the place. I think I’m looking at the woman who found the first victim, and I’m not leaving here without attempting to learn something.
When the customer leaves, I rip the tag off one of the dolls and walk to the counter. Miriam looks happy. “This one is missing a price tag,” I say.
She gets on the computer and is busy searching when I ask her if she once worked at the Herman Hotel. She stops searching and starts staring then she smiles.
“Many years ago,” she says. Her voice is soft and a little sad.
“Sorry, I recognized your name. I’m doing some private security work for the hotel.” This story sounds convincing, to me anyway. “Would it be possible to buy you a cup of coffee after you get off work today?”
She looks at the computer then back at me. “It was a long time ago. I don’t remember much of anything.”
“I don’t need much, but I do need to be thorough in doing my job. For the sake of all future guests.” That one was low, even for me.
Another customer comes to the counter and I step away. This place is a goldmine. The man has an arm full of miniature car kits. He’s very happy about them and chatty too. I step away in the hopes he goes away soon. When he finally does, I ask Miriam what time she gets off. She cringes and squirms.
“Fifteen minutes of your time is all I’m asking for. I don’t need you to relive any of the gruesome details. Something went wrong that night, and I need to make sure however it happened, doesn’t happen again.”
She nods her head and struggles with her thoughts then finally says, “Okay, meet me next door at five and you can buy me some ice cream. I don’t want to end up with a guilty conscience just because I wouldn’t give you a few minutes of my time.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate that. I’ll see you at five.” I turn to leave.
“If you buy me a triple scoop, I’ll even tell you who murdered those poor women.”
Chapter Fifteen
§
I would buy Miriam two triple scoops of ice cream for any information she’s willing to give me, but as far as the murderer goes, I have a feeling I already know the name she plans on sharing. If it’s Butch Seggren and he’s still alive, I hope she can point me in his direction so I can ask him his side of the story.
I’ve got a few hours to kill, so I go back to the hotel and head straight to the basement. I’m determined to find more questions that I hope Miriam will be able to answer. I doubt I’ll get more than one opportunity to talk to her about what happened. I also want to get the victims’ room numbers with the anticipation that I can visit those rooms tonight.
I light the lantern and pull the registration files from the cabinet. Abner Tollison was an unusually well organized man. The files are in chronological order, and after checking them two more times, I know the register of July, 2002, really is missing. I’ve wasted an hour looking for the register that is probably forever lost in the police department’s storage facility.
Whatever happened to it is disappointing. Each entry on the registers has the guest’s signature. Graphologists claim that a person’s handwriting reveals what’s going on in their mind. I know that signatures reveal what’s going on in a person’s soul. Even when that soul has moved on. I really wanted to get a sense of the women’s energy when they checked in that night, but it isn’t going to happen. Not today anyway.
I find the June, 2002, register and try to get a sense of the hotel the month before the murders. After several minutes, I get dozens of images all slamming together. I’m picking up the long ago hurried energy of all the guests. I feel my fingers sinking into the paper when something slams behind me and I jump.
I get up to look around. It came from the area of the furnace though there’s no reason the thing should be running in this weather. I decide it was just the metal contracting, though I don’t have a clue if it could be. It isn’t exploding so I go back to the documents.
I make a note to ask Boshears to request the return of the hotel records from the police department. I doubt she’ll cooperate as much as I doubt the police will return them, but I still have to try.
The rest of the records that I want to review are in Aubrey’s office. I’m not looking forward
to requesting my copies again, but more for her sake than mine. Her lack of cooperation will not amuse Rita.
The first person I see when I step out of the basement is Boshears. She doesn’t look happy to see me.
“Ms. Raven.”
“Ms. Boshears.”
She shutters and gives me a fake smile. “I hope working in the basement isn’t too unpleasant for you.”
“It’s fine. I’m hoping to get the copies of the records I gave Aubrey earlier.”
“Yes, well she’s very busy. I’ll remind her of the urgency.” She chuckles under her breath.
“I have time to copy them myself before I meet with Miriam Dodd.” Boshears looks puzzled so I remind her of the woman. Now she looks hostile.
“I thought I told you not to reveal your identity. This is a small town and everyone will be talking if even one person knows what you’re doing here.”
“I thought I was the entertainment. You said nothing about not revealing my identity, and I told you I have to investigate this matter or I might as well leave. I’m not going to keep debating this issue.”
“I hired you for one performance at the reopening.” Boshears hisses and I glare. We’re two women getting ready for a smack down.
“I told Ms. Dodd that I’m doing private security work for the hotel.”
“Well, you’re dressed for the part.” Boshears cringes.
I ignore her dig. “If it gets out that you’ve hired a private security investigator, I’m sure people in this town will be reassured by your efforts to keep them safe. After speaking with Ms. Dodd for a few minutes, I’m almost certain she’s not the type to gossip about a subject she would prefer not to remember.”
Boshears folds into herself. She’s got a healthy dose of red in her aura that is turning rusty and clouding with gray, but she’s not ready to give up her quest for control.
“If you must, fine. Just leave ghosts out of your fabrication and keep a low profile. I thought you would confine your so called work to the hotel. You’re turning this into something it isn’t. If you’re determined to pursue this ghost hunt all over town, I’ll need to work more closely with you. Plan on meeting with me at six in the evening and eight in the morning while you’re here.”
“Will you make sure the copies I need are available for our six o’clock meeting? If not, please have them returned to the basement so I can review them there. I’ll talk to you when I get back from my meeting with Ms. Dodd. It may be after six.”
I turn away and walk to the elevator. I don’t have to see the woman to know she’s watching me and hissing under her breath.
I forgot to ask Boshears about the thirteenth floor. I push the button and the door still doesn’t open. I’m going to have to remind the woman that my contract requires the client create no unnecessary delays. That’s something that seems to be on her agenda.
When I get to my room, I press my ear to the door. Rita’s quiet, but I can hear Mojo’s low growl then he’s sniffing at the door. When I open it, he’s already back on the bed. His tail almost wags. He’s not into the welcome wagon routine.
“Are you two getting along?” I ask Rita who is still in one piece. Question answered. I take my second shower today, and swear I’ll never complain about the dry desert air of New Mexico again.
It’s a quarter to five when Mojo follows me to the jeep. The wind is blowing hot, sticky air as I walk into The Frozen Dream. I motion for Mojo to get under a table before someone sees him. I’m facing the entrance when Miriam walks through the door. She slumps and I wave.
“You’re here,” she says. She pulls out the chair across from me and almost screams.
“He’s harmless,” I say. “Thanks for coming. I know this is difficult for you.” She gives me a sad smile.
We order and I get a dish of ice cubes for Mojo. Miriam wasn’t kidding about the triple scoop.
“Where do we start?” she asks.
“Why don’t you just tell me what you remember, and I’ll ask questions as we go.”
“You mean what I wish I could forget, but can’t?” She takes a deep breath after enjoying a few bites. “I was just nineteen years old then. I’d been working at the hotel for a few months. I was one of five housekeepers on staff, but the hotel was especially busy that week because of the fourth of July celebration and the convention, so Mr. Tollison had two other women come in to clean.”
“What convention?”
“It was some sort of teachers’ event. I don’t recall anything more about it.”
“So the women who were murdered were teachers?”
Miriam nods and digs into scoop number two. “I didn’t know anything about any of the guests. Other than cleaning their rooms, they weren’t any of my business. But I did hear later– afterwards– that they were here for the convention. Anyway, I remember it was close to two o’clock when I got done with the twelfth floor and went up to the thirteenth. I knew something was wrong as soon as I stepped off the elevator.”
She leans in and whispers, “It was the smell that I noticed.” She leans back and shakes her head. “I didn’t really think much of it, other than having to clean whatever was stinking up the place. Mr. Tollison was extremely picky about that and everything else.” She laughs and relaxes. “He was a stickler for detail all right. I opened the first door—
“What room number?”
“Hum, what was it? Can’t say that I recall now. It was the room on the east end. I had just the three rooms to clean. I opened the door and the smell… it was sickeningly sweet. It was also pitch black in the room. I called out in case someone was still in there and maybe still asleep. No one answered so I flipped on the light. I didn’t go any farther than the door. Not at first.”
Miriam stops to eat her ice cream. She’s picturing the gruesome scene and I try to see it inside her mind, but she rattles her head to chase the memory away.
“Blood was everywhere on that bed. I was confused. Like a fool, I walked right up to that bed thinking the person was injured. She was injured all right.” Miriam shrugs like she’s trying to get something off her.
“I ran like a crazy person. Didn’t even bother stopping at the elevator. I ran all the way to the lobby. Sure couldn’t do that today, but I didn’t stop once. I don’t even remember what happened next. I think Mr. Tollison was the first person I saw, but I was half out of my mind. If you want to know what I said afterwards, you’ll have to get my statement from the police. I sure couldn’t tell you what I said.”
“Had there been any other problems at the hotel before this incident?”
“Never. The place had a wonderful reputation. Everyone was so friendly. Mr. Tollison was strict and moody at times, but only because he cared so much about the hotel and his guests. I felt so bad when the hotel had to close. I know the place meant everything to him.”
“How about problems with others on staff? Had anyone been fired recently?”
“I only knew the other housekeepers. We didn’t mingle with the rest of the staff. None of us had any problems.”
“How about security?”
Miriam laughs and shakes her head. She says there was no need for security back then. She claims that before the murders, other than a few stolen towels, the hotel never had a single problem.
I ask why the three women were alone on the thirteenth floor.
“Can’t say. Never thought about it. The hotel had been full for the fourth of July celebration. Most of those guests had checked out by Monday morning. The convention started on Tuesday. I remember that because I had to work overtime. Still, we were behind on cleaning some rooms, but there were plenty on the lower floors.” Miriam stops and frowns.
“Before the murders, the thirteenth floor was like the penthouse. Lucky thirteen, we called it. The rooms were twice the size and a lot fancier. I’m sure they were a lot more expensive too. Come to think of it, seems like young women on a teacher’s salary might not want to stay up there.”
“Who made t
he decision on where they stayed?”
“Not me. I just cleaned the rooms. How the hotel was run wasn’t any of my business.”
“Do you recall any of the women’s names?”
Miriam’s nodding her head as she finishes her ice cream. “Not the other two, but I’ll never forget the one. It wasn’t like it is today with everybody telling everybody else’s business. I gave my testimony at trial and that’s it. Mr. Tollison and the police did a good job protecting their privacy, but I saw her name once on a paper I had to sign. Such a mess that monster made of the poor woman. Janet Onha. I get chills just saying that name.”
I get chills just hearing the name. It sounds Native American. “I assume since she was staying at the hotel that she didn’t live around here.”
“I don’t know where any of the women lived, but that would be my guess.” Miriam checks her phone for the time and tells me that she has to get going.
“What do you think really happened that night?” I ask, before she gets up to leave.
“Oh, I forgot our deal. Three scoops for the killer’s name.” She laughs and digs through her purse for a scrap of paper and a pen. She folds the note in two and puts it on the table before telling me to stop by the gift shop tomorrow to get that doll for Lorie.
I look at her note. Butch Seggren. No news there, but she provided something I forgot to ask and wanted to know. Old shack out on Chapin Road. Be careful.
Chapter Sixteen
§
I take Mojo back to the room then take my time getting downstairs to meet with Boshears. The hotel is too quiet and probably too empty to stay open much longer. I tap on Boshears office door. She hesitates before saying come in. It’s almost six thirty.
“Ms. Raven.”
“Ms. Boshears.” I sit down and stare at her. She blinks first. The effort is exhausting.
“How did your meeting with….”
The Taw Ridge Haunting Page 8
