Fallen Angel: An absolutely addictive crime thriller with a nail-biting twist (Detectives Kane and Alton Book 13)

by D. K. Hood

  Duke rose slowly and with great reluctance and sad eyes dragged himself into the other room behind him.

  “Come here, boy.” Jenna called Duke to the fire in the next room. “I’m all ready for you. See, food and water and a log fire. Doggy heaven, right?” She bent, removed his coat, and rubbed him all over with a towel. “There you go.” She stood and grinned at Kane. “I’m his best friend now.”

  Kane chuckled. “Thanks. He started getting worried when I put Pumpkin into a cage and took her to Maggie, he kept looking at me with those sideways glances he gives me if he figures he’s going to the V-E-T or due to take a B-A-T-H.”

  “You have to spell in front of your dog?” Rio looked up from his notes. “This is a story you have to tell me one of these days. I’m intrigued.”

  “He’s smarter than you think.” Jenna hung the dog’s coat near the fire to dry. “Those two things send him hiding under the bed is all. It’s a real long story.”

  The manager had reorganized one of the rooms to hold interviews, the other as a headquarters for the team. Tables had been pushed together to make a central workspace, and two fridges had been set against one wall beside a counter with a microwave. Kane placed the heavy box on the counter and smiled at Jenna. I picked up one of the coffee makers from your office and coffee. I figured we could get the fixings here.”

  “Yeah, there’s cream and milk in the fridge and a coffee machine with those pod things in the other room as well.” Jenna looked over at Wolfe, Emily, and Rio scanning the lists of guests they’d gathered earlier. “Everyone is famished. I’ve ordered a ton of sandwiches for now, and they should be here soon. We’ll eat in one of the restaurants later. Rio is staying over for a few days to work on the case. His brother and sister will be fine with the housekeeper.”

  “Yeah, his brother called me. He packed a bag for him and I collected it on my way back here.” Kane unpacked the box. “The snowplow will be doing a run so the bus can get back to town, and Webber is planning on following it up the mountain, so Wolfe will be able to leave with him around six. All the roadblocks are up. Rowley is supervising.”

  “You’ve been busy.” Jenna went to the house phone. “If you’ll bring Wolfe up to date, I’ll call the manager and have him arrange for the person who cleared the path to come up so we can talk to him. I’ll have Agnes come by as well.”

  After bringing the others up to date, Kane peered at the list of people staying at the resort. Rio had organized it in record time, and they all gathered around as he explained his theory.

  “I correlated all the data we gathered from the guests and sent it to Bobby Kalo, mainly so I had a clear overall picture of who was where and when.” Rio glanced up. “I’ve sent a copy of the final groups to your iPads. It makes it easier to remove potential suspects in one block at a time, leaving us with a few potential suspects rather than hundreds. We’ll need more personal data from the, let’s say, main players to make sure we include any potential suspects from one of the other groups. I’m going to assign each person a group letter as they arrive into the next session after lunch. It will be written on their toe tag as well.” He sighed. “At this point, the majority of guests believe they are involved in a mystery game and are more than willing to go along with anything we suggest. I’ve no idea where the rumor came from but it’s spreading like wildfire. The fact we locked the place down and they believe Miss Storm is missing is apparently part of the mystery they’re all trying to solve.”

  Understanding but finding everything surreal, Kane nodded. “So, like, Mr. Smith was in the lobby with the candlestick, you mean?”

  “Yeah.” Jenna turned at a knock at the door. “That will be room service. After we’ve eaten, I’ll be leaving you to interview Agnes and the path-cleaning guy, Mr. Sparks. The rest of us will be dividing the guests into their groups at the next session.”

  Kane stared after her. “I’d like to know more about these groups.”

  “Sure, Rio will bring you up to speed while we eat.” Jenna opened the door to a man pushing a cart.

  Inhaling the smell of freshly brewed coffee and food, Kane smiled. His stomach rumbled in appreciation. He looked at Rio. “Okay, feed me the information.”

  Ten

  Zac Rio waited for everyone to collect sandwiches and coffee. It had been a long exhausting morning without a break and everyone was running on adrenalin. He handed out the sheets he’d compiled with the assistance of Bobby Kalo and laid his copies on the table. He stood and indicated to the lists of people. “Okay, I’ve worked with Kalo to break the guests into groups and graded their possibility of being involved in the murder of Miss Storm. Group A or people with alibies, are guests who arrived together and share rooms. This luckily comprises over ninety-five percent of the guests. It seems that author organizations around the country arranged for members to come to the convention. When I compiled the list, using the data gathered as the guests entered each hall, we were able to eliminate everyone who had a person to confirm their whereabouts at the time of Miss Storm’s death.”

  “So, everyone with a rock-solid alibi is in Group A?” Kane looked at him over the rim of his cup. “How many slipped through the gap?”

  Lifting his attention to Kane, Rio cleared his throat. “Would you believe only six I’d consider probable. These people aren’t affiliated with organizations and have their own rooms at the lodge or are out in one of the chalets. They are Group D, for potentially dangerous. As the elevators have CCTV coverage on each floor, like the main entrance, we’ll need to view the footage and see if anyone left the lodge during the time Miss Storm died, which we’re assuming is between the time she left the lodge and when Agnes noticed her shoe on the pond, so from midnight until six.”

  “From preliminary findings”—Wolfe leaned forward—“I figure she was killed close to the time she returned to her chalet. She didn’t enter her room, so for now assume she died between twelve and two. She must have been in the water for some hours to be frozen.”

  Rio nodded. “Once we’ve viewed the footage, we’ll be able to add or subtract people from Group D.”

  “There’s a loophole in Group D.” Jenna peered at a map of the complex. “Anyone who can’t account for their movements and has a room out of the direct line of the CCTV cameras could have used the fire stairs. There’s a set of steps at each end of the building. They’d be easily accessed from either end of the hallways. One exits in the lobby, the other to the delivery bay outside. So anyone inside the building would more likely use the lobby exit and entrance if they didn’t want to take the elevator.” She pointed to her map. “See, the CCTV cameras are clearly marked, and my copy came from the information folder given to everyone attending the conference. Perfect for anyone trying to elude detection. Also, those out in cabins could have easily murdered her without anyone seeing them. You’ll need to mark them on the list as staying in the lodge or in a chalet.” She looked at Rio. “Send all the names on the D list to Bobby Kalo to do a background check for us. The blizzard will slow down everything we try to do online.” She nodded approvingly. “What about the staff?”

  Rio nodded. “All the staff who work at the resort are accounted for, including the teams of builders constructing the new chalets. From what I understand, they left in a hurry when they heard the blizzard forecast and were all gone by six last night, so we can take them off the list of suspects as well.” He pointed back to List A. “We also have a team of media who are staying in a suite together and can account for their whereabouts. The media are listed under the heading ‘Media’ to keep them separate from the publishing industry or the readers.”

  “That all sounds good.” Kane chewed on a sandwich. “And as we’re all trapped here with the killer, who might strike again, who should be considered as possible victims? We’ll have to take every possibility into consideration.”

  Rio smiled. He could see it all clearly, as if each group were lit up in different colored bright lights, but explaining it would be
difficult. He sighed. “Okay, so going on the information about Dakota Storm from the author Jenna spoke to when she arrived, and if the pen found at the murder scene is symbolic, we can assume jealousy or revenge as a possible motive. Using this data, I’ve compiled a list of possible victims: List C. But there’s too many for us to watch twenty-four/seven.”

  “So, you figure all the agents and publishers are possible victims?” Jenna stared at a list. “Okay too many to watch, but you have agents and authors on the suspects’ list. How are you differentiating between them?”

  Rio leaned back in his chair. “I asked Bobby Kalo if he could access the pitching schedules from the last two years’ crime writers’ conferences. He used the list of guests staying here and cross-checked them against the authors who pitched to Dakota Storm.” He poked one finger at a list. “Those she rejected and have no alibi are on the list of possible suspects.”

  “But there’s published authors on here as well.” Jenna frowned. “Why would they be pitching at a conference?”

  Rio’s enjoyment of the arts had put him in contact with playwrights, authors, and many people in the industry, so he had insider information. “It’s all about the golden ring.”

  “The what?” Jenna scanned the list and looked at him skeptically.

  Rio opened his hands wide. “There are millions of authors published and unpublished but few reach the ‘golden ring,’ the career they’ve dream of, like being a New York Times bestseller, for instance, or having their books turned into screenplays.” He smiled. “This is a place for unrepresented authors to avoid the slush pile and go straight to the top of the list. Deals are made and dreams realized at conferences. Reaching the golden ring is what every author wants in life.”

  “Slush pile?” Jenna raised both eyebrows. “Okay, I’m gathering that’s where the unsolicited manuscripts go that don’t make the cut?”

  “Exactly.” Rio tapped a list. “So, on this list is a group of rejected authors and I’ve added the names of two agents and an editor who lost clients to Dakota Storm and weren’t too happy about it. I figure it has to be one of the people on List D and this method is our best chance of finding the killer.”

  “Okay.” Kane reached for another sandwich. “This was a brutal murder and no one has taken for the hills. Everyone is still here, so either our killer is hiding in plain sight or we have a wounded vigilante out to get revenge on more than one person.”

  Rio nodded. “Yeah. So, are we all on the same page? The A-list people are in the clear, the B list are possible victims, the C list contains the bus people, and finally the D list are our suspects, without alibies and with probable motive.”

  “So, from this you’ve narrowed it down to a possible six suspects?” Jenna scanned the page. “That’s impressive. So, we have:

  August Bradford, an author out of Eagle Ridge Glen, Colorado

  September March, an author, out of Spirit Lake Montana

  Bexley Grayson, an author out of Lyons Bay, California

  Murphy Finnian, a literary agent out of Black Canyon, North Dakota

  Parker Rain, a literary agent out of Twisted Forest, Montana

  Ike Turnage, an acquiring editor out of Devils Bend, Colorado.

  Rio nodded. “They’re the most probable, yeah. I’ve emailed you all their details and driver’s licenses. Kalo is running background checks on them now. He’ll send the info along as soon as possible.”

  “Great work.” Jenna smiled at him. “You and Kalo have saved us hours of grunt work.”

  Suddenly feeling part of the team, Rio smiled. “Collecting the data and having Kalo to run things for us made all the difference.”

  “Okay, people.” Jenna swept her gaze over the room. “Let’s get to work. Kane, you can start by interviewing the staff members. Call the desk and have them send them up.” She looked at Wolfe. “Can you and Emily go and find August Bradford?” She turned to Rio. “You can take September March. I’ll find Bexley Grayson.”

  “Just a minute.” Kane looked dubious. “Anyone we interview must be here voluntarily. We can’t Mirandize anyone and hold them. For one, we don’t have anywhere to keep them, and two, we’ll be denying them legal representation. We’ve one lawyer in town and if he’s not snowed in, I figure he’ll be flat out getting up the mountain in this weather. If he did get here, would he be able to represent a ton of suspects? There’s no chance in hell of anyone from Louan or Blackwater making it through in this blizzard.”

  “Then we make sure they know it’s voluntary at the get-go. I could suggest they talk to a lawyer over the phone, but the law does state they must have a lawyer present during questioning if requested. If this weather keeps up and we find a solid suspect, I’ll call the DA and get advice, but I figure we’d have to get the killer off the mountain—somehow.” Jenna’s mouth was set in concentration. “Your profiling skills will tell you the killer will come forward to have his say. He wouldn’t risk standing out by avoiding us in a crowd of cooperative people.” She sighed. “We’ll be as nice as pie. With luck, the guests will think it’s part of a conference mystery game.”

  “Yeah, that idea is floating around already.” Kane smiled. “It might just work.”

  “Okay, go find the possible suspects.” Jenna waved them away.

  “Wait up, Jenna. We’ll be chasing our tails.” Wolfe pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I figure the best way to locate these people is to call them to the reception over the loudspeaker. We can meet them there, explain why we need to speak to them, and escort them up here.”

  Rio smiled. “Maybe we should wait here for them or we’ll scare them away.”

  “I’m sure we can make ourselves inconspicuous, if we spread out.” Jenna pushed hair behind her ears and lifted her chin. “We’ll bring them all up here at the same time. The tables are set far enough apart in the interview room next door to allow for privacy. Okay, get at it. Kane, will you call the lobby and ask them to call out the names? We’ll head downstairs.”

  “Copy that.” Kane picked up the phone.

  Eleven

  Jedidiah Longfellow’s life couldn’t be any better. He’d secured Dakota Storm as his agent and she’d gotten him a great deal for his novel. His book Nailed It had flown to the top of the charts worldwide and paid out his very generous advance within a week of publication. He’d become an overnight success and although he’d missed the opportunity of being one of the featured authors at this convention, he’d been booked for others later in the year. He enjoyed being in the audience and absorbing the atmosphere. Listening to the speakers had sparked his imagination and he’d made copious notes on a new thriller he planned to write the moment he walked back into his office. For now, he’d enjoy the conference and all it had to offer. Being involved in a real mystery, even if it were just a game, was as good as it gets. He tucked his coat under one arm and turned to his friend. “We’ll have to sneak out. If anyone sees us going out the front door, they’ll know we have a clue. I’m not staying in a chalet and no one would venture out in a blizzard for fun.” He sighed and gestured to a fire exit. “They all have alarms. We can’t use them. Any ideas?”

  “Of course.” His friend gave him a mischievous smile. “Follow me but keep at a distance. Now you’re famous, we wouldn’t want to draw attention.”

  Jed moved through the crowd, keeping his friend in sight as they approached a set of double doors with a sign above it that read STAFF ONLY. His friend flashed a keycard over a scanner and walked inside. Jed hurried along, catching the door before it shut and caught up with his friend. “How did you manage to obtain a card to open the door?”

  “I accidently on purpose tripped over the housekeeping attendant and snagged it from her. It was clipped to her belt. Hurry, we haven’t got much time. We’ll be missed if we’re late to the next session. The sheriff is checking everyone on the way in. It’s like a real murder mystery.” His friend slipped into a thick coat, pulled up the hood and headed down a long p
assageway. “We have to pass by a door to the kitchen. Keep your hoodie pulled down low, sunglasses on, so nobody recognizes us. Although most of the kitchen staff will be too busy cleaning up after lunch to notice.”

  “Sure.” Jed shrugged into his coat and covered his head with the hood. He pushed on sunglasses and pulled on his gloves. “I’m ready, let’s do this.” Head down, he followed his friend out into the brilliant-white turbulent snow. He spotted the keypad on the outside door. “How are we going to get back inside?”

  “They write the code on a chalkboard by the door.” His friend chuckled. “It doesn’t take a genius to know what it’s for. Worse case, we trek back to the front door. It’s all good, don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

  Jedidiah looked at the blinding-white snowscape. “Do you know where to go?”

  “Yeah, Miss Storm was in chalet number forty-eight, so the ones under construction will be numbered from forty-nine.” A low chuckle came from his friend’s throat. “I bet we find another clue on the construction site. I figure it will be a photograph or something to guide us to the next one.”

  As the blizzard howled around them, they took a pathway thick with snow and hustled along, but the going was slow and underfoot the pathway slippery. The icy wind buffeted them, chilling Jed to the bone. As the construction site came into view, he heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” He pointed to a gap in the trees. “Look, there’s a temporary access road. I bet that’s how she slipped away.”

  “It looks deserted. There’re no vehicles here. I figure the workers left in a hurry.” His friend tried the door, and finding it locked, headed around back to a utility shed and peered inside. “Well, just as I figured. Lookee here. There’s a board with keys for the new cabins. I guess they leave them here because so many different contractors come by.” His companion took down the key for chalet forty-nine. “We’ll look in here first.”