Christina Freeburn - Faith Hunter 03 - Embellished to Death

by Christina Freeburn

  “Knock it off.” Morgan growled in my ear.

  Not a chance. I kicked at his legs.

  Morgan hoisted me up. I continued scratching, kicking, and making sounds. I prayed my frantic movements knocked something over, or caused Morgan to grunt in severe pain.

  His weight shifted. The door started closing. He was using his foot. Now was my chance.

  Moonlight filtered through the small opening between the curtains. I twisted and arched my back. We pitched toward the floor. His grip slackened to break our fall and I escaped his grasp.

  Screaming, I scooted away and grabbed the first weapon I saw in the nearly dark room. A pillow. I heaved it at Morgan’s head. “Get out!”

  Morgan grabbed for my arm. I blindly selected another item. A magazine. Not helpful.

  I scrambled to my feet and stumbled to the back of the room. I hoped Morgan came after me and left Garrison alone.

  Morgan lunged forward, found his target… my arm… and hauled me backwards. “Let’s go!”

  I stumbled and fell onto the bed. Steve hadn’t known this wasn’t my room. He brought up my luggage and placed it in the room. When I made our reservation, I had asked for the connecting door to be left unlocked. My suitcase and matching make-up bag were on the floor near the window side of the bed. I knew the make-up had some heft in it. I packed practically every beauty supply known to womankind.

  Morgan seized me around the waist and attempted to haul me to my feet when the door separating my room from Steve’s burst open.

  I twisted and slugged Morgan in the jaw. He reeled back. I guessed more from shock than the strength of my blow. One, I didn’t have good leverage to get off a good punch, and two I hadn’t worked on my arm muscles for quite some time.

  Steve grabbed Morgan and threw him away from me, into the small open area used as the closet. “Go into my room!”

  I rolled off the bed.

  Steve helped me to my feet and nudged me toward the connecting door.

  While Steve directed his attention to me, Morgan scrambled out of the closet and swung at Steve.

  “Duck!” I screamed.

  Steve plowed into Morgan, sending them both into the closet.

  I wouldn’t leave an injured Steve to face Morgan alone. We needed a slight advantage.

  Dropping back onto to the bed, I scooted to the edge and scrambled my hand around, trying to find the handle of my make-up tote that blended into the hue of the carpet. I prayed my idea worked. I found my sunglasses and put them on. I crawled to the edge of the bed near where Steve and Morgan wrestled.

  I pushed the button on the base of the lamp. Morgan blinked in the light. Steve kicked Morgan in the gut, knocking the guy off of him.

  Morgan staggered backwards and pulled something from his waistband.

  “No!” I threw myself off the bed and onto Garrison. Garrison was out cold.

  A sound sizzled in the air and a charged jolted from the stun gun. I braced myself for the coming pain. Garrison rolled me off him.

  The sound came again.

  Garrison screamed and his body jolted.

  Doors opened and slammed shut. No one wanted to get involved. Part of me grew angry, the other understood. Most of the hotel guests were women. They were probably terrified of also being attacked.

  Morgan flicked the device toward me. “Get away from the door, Steve, or your girl will get the next one.”

  “I told you to leave her alone.” Steve held his ground.

  “And as I said, I don’t work for you.” The stun gun made another little hum and sparks shot from it. “Let’s go, Faith, out the door.”

  “You’re not taking Faith anywhere,” Steve said.

  “It’s not your call. You know that,” Morgan said.

  Something in Morgan’s voice, and the expression on Steve’s face, halted me. What was going on? You know that. The comment held a deliberate meaning for Steve.

  The door creaked open.

  Steve charged at Morgan.

  Morgan zapped the stun gun toward me. I threw myself backwards onto the mattress. The air over me crackled.

  Steve forced Morgan’s hand clutching the weapon into the air as he twisted, then barreled them out of the room.

  Screams came from the hallway.

  I jumped off the bed and knelt beside Garrison.

  “Stay put!” Bob said, slamming the door closed.

  Garrison pushed at my leg. “Go. Make sure Bob—” His face twisted into a grimace.

  I didn’t need Garrison to finish the sentence, I knew what he feared—that Bob would shoot Morgan. I jumped to my feet and yanked the door open.

  Steve had wrangled Morgan toward the end of the hallway, and soon he’d have the guy literally cornered. But Morgan wasn’t giving up. He zapped the stun gun into the air.

  “The charge will leave soon.” Bob tried to stop a group of panicked women from racing for the stairwell.

  If someone entered the hall using those stairs they’d get hurt.

  We had to end this. And now. I ran forward.

  Morgan rammed his elbow into the side of Steve’s neck. Steve fell to his knees. Morgan prepared the stun gun.

  I hoped I had enough time to put myself between the electricity and Steve. I didn’t know how much more abuse Steve’s body could take.

  “Don’t try it, Ware.” Bob withdrew a gun from a shoulder holster.

  Morgan dropped the stun gun and headed for the stairwell.

  I reached for him.

  He shoved me backwards.

  I landed on my butt. Morgan charged down the stairs.

  Quickly, I popped back up and went after him. I had no idea if anyone was in the stairwell and what Morgan would do. I had to stop him.

  “Faith, no!” someone screamed at me.

  I raced down the stairs. Footsteps thundered down the steps, following after me. I was tired of abusive bullies controlling my life with threats. It was one thing to interfere with my life, but I drew a firm line with someone harming the people I loved and cared about.

  I slammed my hand on the bar. The door popped open.

  Gripping the rail, I jumped the last few steps to the next landing. I needed to slow down or I’d get to the bottom by taking a header. Right now, I didn’t care. I wanted revenge for Steve. Garrison. For myself.

  “Faith, stop!” Bob called out.

  An alarm blared. A warm breeze flowed into the stairwell. He went outside using the emergency exit. I jumped down the last few steps and opened the emergency exit, and ran outside.

  Loud pops filled the air.

  I hit the ground.

  TWELVE

  I raised my head and looked around, trying to gauge where the shooter was hiding. An inky blackness coated the sky. Not one star shimmered. Humidity laced the night air. Screams floated from the hotel as the door opened. I glanced back. Bob ran out and slid to a halt beside me.

  “You all right?” Bob crouched beside me and placed a hand on my back.

  “Yeah.” I tried pushing myself up but Bob’s firm hand kept me kissing the ground.

  “Faith!” Steve skidded to a halt at my side.

  “What did I tell you?” Bob spoke in a harsh whisper. He rose, standing in a hunched over position.

  “I wasn’t staying in there if Faith was out here injured,” Steve said.

  “Trying to keep two people from getting shot is a lot harder than one.” Bob grabbed the waistband of my jeans and gave me a tug. “I need the two of you back inside the building.”

  “We can’t,” Steve said. “I told Gussie to barricade the door in case Morgan tried getting back in. Darlene’s keeping an eye on Garrison.”

  A strange sound reached my ears. I grabbed Steve’s arm. �
��What was that?”

  We all grew quiet and listened. Our breathing echoed back at us. I didn’t like this one bit. I clutched Steve’s hand, comforted by the fact he managed to make his way outside.

  He squeezed my hand.

  A moan interrupted our self-imposed silence.

  “Here’s the plan,” Bob whispered. “We’re going to make our way to the front of the hotel.”

  “Someone’s hurt down there,” I said. I knew a few yards in front of us the ground turned from a flat surface into a steep hill. Morgan might not have known that the hill was steep. He might be down there with a broken leg or neck. Or shot.

  “Once you’re both in the hotel, I’ll look for him,” Bob said.

  Lights from rooms filtered out, giving just enough brightness that I could make my way down the grassy patch without tripping over a garden hose or running into the large air-conditioning unit.

  “I think it’s coming from down there.” I pointed toward the barely detectable sharp incline at the back of the hotel. I scrambled to my feet and edged as close to the drop-off as I dared.

  “What are you doing?” Steve hissed. “Get back here.”

  All I saw was a dark nothingness. “Someone’s hurt. We have to help them.”

  “If you’re going to lean further out, give me your hand,” Steve said.

  “Go into the building,” Bob said.

  “Faith’s right,” Steve said. “We have to help.”

  The weird sound from below, a cross between a wheezing rattle and a hacking cough filled the night.

  “He’s down there.” I sat on the ground.

  “Faith, wait—” Steve’s fingertips skimmed my skin.

  I slid down the hill on my derrière, using the flashlight app on my phone to show me the way. Of course, in a sitting position I wouldn’t have much opportunity to get out of the way of any rocks or other debris unless I rolled to the side. It was still the safest way to the bottom of the hill. Even dry, the angle of the descent made it hard to walk down.

  I reached the bottom and felt my way along the dry grass. Twigs poked my palms. I stopped moving and listened. Hard. For a while, all I heard was my own breathing. The strangled gasp came again.

  I crawled toward the sound. Small rocks and clumps of dirt pelted me.

  “Faith, it could be a trap,” Bob yelled. “I’m coming down.”

  Like making a loud announcement was going to help us sneak up on Morgan. I heard a lot of skidding coming from the hill. It sounded like Steve followed after Bob.

  Regardless of the fact that Morgan was a vile person, I needed to check on him. I roved my phone back and forth over the area. A lump was on the ground a few feet from me.

  “I see him.” I pushed into a standing position and ran toward the fallen figure.

  “Hold up.”

  “No time.” I dropped to my knees, using my cell phone to take a look at the person. Morgan. A dark patch spread across his chest. He sucked in a loud, wet sounding breath then his chest collapsed. I felt for a pulse. None.

  “He’s not breathing.” I pushed down the panic building. I tried blocking my mind from processing the image of his unblinking eyes, the wetness on my hands as I began compressions. I needed my composure. Tears wouldn’t help me now. I needed all my breaths and energy focused on saving this man’s life.

  “I’m here.” Bob placed a hand on my back. “Let me take over.”

  Shaking my head, I continued. Compressions. Breaths. Compressions. Breaths. I’d wait for the paramedics. Switching twice might leave Morgan without help long enough that he’d die.

  “Faith, it’s too late. He’s gone.” Bob gently squeezed my shoulder and tried to draw me back.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” Steve wrapped an arm around my waist and drew me toward him.

  I elbowed him away and continued CPR.

  Voices echoed from above. Lights shone down on us. Bob spoke but my mind refused to process the words.

  “Ma’am, let me take over.” A paramedic gently nudged me out of the way.

  I watched the paramedic work on Morgan for a few minutes before he shook his head. I averted my gaze.

  Steve peeled off his shirt and scrubbed my stained, trembling hands with it. If it wasn’t for Steve gripping my hands, I’d have crumpled to the ground in a heap. As it was, my legs barely held me up.

  Steve eased us both to a sitting position on the grass.

  Morgan was dead. And out there in the nothingness of the dark was the person who killed him.

  “We have to find who did this.” I tried standing but my legs refused to listen. My voice sounded different. Odd. Flat. Emotionless, even though anger, fear, sadness, and relief all rolled through me. I was a muddled mess.

  Steve stood and scooped me into his arms. “The police will. We’re going inside. There’s no reason for you to get involved.”

  He was right. Morgan threatened me and tried to force me to leave the hotel with him. He hurt Steve and Garrison.

  An officer shined a light on Morgan and then swiveled it to take in each one of us. “Get Detective Bell down here. Stat.”

  We waited. A slight breeze whispered through the air. I shivered and leaned into Steve. He tightened his arms around me.

  Another person slid to the bottom of the hill. A flashlight shone on us. “Why am I not surprised the three of you are here?”

  I blinked and shielded my eyes. “He attacked me and wanted to make me leave with him. Steve overpowered him. Morgan ran out of the hotel. I followed him out here. I heard shots.”

  Bell crouched down and trained the light onto Morgan’s body. “Get the bystanders inside. Have Miss Hunter and her entourage stay down here.”

  The hotel staff switched on the back lights and police cars positioned themselves so the headlights flooded the area.

  “Let’s go talk, Miss Hunter.” Bell stood and ushered me away from Bob and Steve. “Make sure they’re interviewed separately.”

  Uniform officers separated Bob and Steve.

  “When did you first meet Morgan?”

  “This morning when he told me he was an FBI agent,” I said.

  “Why would he tell you that?”

  “To scare me.”

  Bell tilted his head to side and tapped a pen to his chin. “There are two things I’m wondering right now. Why would knowing someone works for the FBI scare you, and why would Morgan pick you to threaten?”

  “He knew about my past exploits in solving murders. He said he planned on proving that I killed that woman this morning.”

  “Didn’t Detective Roget solve those cases?”

  I nodded.

  “Detective Bell,” an officer shouted. “I think we might have the shooter.”

  I spun around. My heart went into my throat. Bell shifted so I was behind him. I leaned slightly, peering around him.

  An officer had yanked Bob’s arms behind his back. “We’ve confiscated his weapon.”

  “He didn’t do it.” I gripped Bell’s arm. The look he settled on my hand had enough heat I jerked it away. “Bob exited the building right after I did. If he had fired his weapon, he’d have shot me.”

  “He’s taller than you so he could’ve shot right over your head.”

  True. But, then how would Morgan have been hit in the chest? Morgan wasn’t a giant. “The bullet would’ve hit Morgan in the head not—”

  Bell yanked out his notebook from his jacket pocket. “Fine. We’ll finish our interview now. Did you see Morgan when you ran out of the building?”

  “No. I heard a loud pop and dropped to the ground.”

  “So, you have no idea where Morgan was standing?”

  “I don’t know where he was.”

  “You couldn’t see him?�
�

  “It was dark out here. There are no stars and the lights weren’t on.”

  “Which means you couldn’t have seen Bob Roget either. You have no idea if he stood right behind you, or reached around you and fired.”

  I rummaged through my memory. “That didn’t happen. I know that.”

  “You’re making guesses on what you think happened because of what you want the truth to be.”

  I glared at him. “No. That’s what you’re doing.”

  Bell stood toe-to-toe with me, his chest almost pressed into my face. “Listen carefully, Miss Hunter, I don’t coddle meddling citizens the way Detective Roget does. If you interfere in my investigation, I will arrest you. If you accuse me of framing someone, I will sue you. I will not have my reputation tarnished because you want to play private investigator. Am I making myself clear?”

  I nodded. I knew Bob didn’t kill Morgan and I’d prove it with a little help from my friends and maybe even another possible suspect. Something weird, besides identity-stealing, was going on and Violet would tell me or find herself being hauled to jail herself.

  “Let’s take the suspect to the station.” Detective Bell walked over to the officer detaining Bob.

  THIRTEEN

  When we reached the third floor, the hallway was crowded with women crying. Some huddled together, others tugged suitcases behind them, as they made a break for the elevator.

  “Everyone please remain calm.” Gussie led a shaken woman down the hallway. “The staff and police have everything under control.”

  Relief swept over Darlene’s face when she spotted me. “You’re all right.”

  “Of course.” I smiled and hoped it looked natural.

  Garrison’s gaze moved from the stairwell to the elevator.

  I stood on my toes, braced my hands on Steve’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Can you talk to Garrison? I’m going to call Ted. His brother and Garrison will need him. I don’t know how long it’ll be before Bob gets his one phone call.”