by Morgana Best
I shushed her. No one at the hotel was supposed to find out about the magazine article. Ghost sightings were one thing as they likely drew in new visitors. However, hotels usually don’t like the media to know about their guests disappearing mysteriously before checkout. High-class hotels like this one had a lot to lose if their guests did not feel safe in their own rooms. We would be tossed out on our bottoms in a heartbeat, or if we were allowed to stay, the staff would no doubt constantly hover and try to censor us. We would never get any work done. It was better to avoid any mention of the magazine while we were on the job.
“Sorry, but look at this place.” Cordelia waved her hand. “And we have two rooms? We had to have blown the travel budget for the rest of the year on this.”
“Maybe sales are up.” I glanced around to make sure no one was listening in.
“Keith didn’t say anything about it,” Cordelia said as we made our way to the desk. “Though we don’t usually talk much about business off the clock.”
I had to ponder that. I knew the missing politician would be an interesting read, but the magazine had just cut hours, notably mine. Could it really afford all this for a feature article? And, come to think of it, what made Skinny think the politician’s disappearance was anything to do with the supernatural?
The handsome desk clerk was sharply dressed. His smile was super white and flawless as he greeted us. “I apologise, ladies. Your rooms are not quite ready yet. If you would like to leave your bags, we will have them delivered to your rooms shortly. In the meantime, our lounge has complimentary coffee and sparkling water for guests. Please enjoy some refreshments while you wait, or feel free to explore. We have an excellent view of the mountains from the garden area.”
Gardens and mountain views. I could get used to this. I was getting paid to stay here and with my best friend at that. This was easily the best job I had ever been assigned.
We made our way into the lounge. Crisp white tablecloths covered the tables, and the silverware sparkled. Tall glasses filled with pastries and custards, along with chocolate drizzled éclairs, filled the display case. There were so many guilty pleasures, I didn’t know where to look. They were all made so prettily that it was almost a shame to eat them. Skinny would have a field day at my expense if she caught me looking at the treats.
“Oh my goodness, look at that.” Cordelia pointed out the window at the landscape. It looked like something straight out of a movie.
“The architect was a genius. You can’t landscape that sort of scenery.” After taking a sip of her latté, she leant over to me and spoke in a softer voice. “Look at that valley below us. I bet it’s creepy with fog in the twilight. We should get some shots.”
I studied the landscape. I could imagine a thick, hazy fog swirling low in those trees, rising up to surround the hotel in a sea of mist. Cordelia did have a great eye for detail, and for turning the mundane into the paranormal. “We should see if we can question the staff about any haunted rooms, too,” I said.
“Yep. I bet management will have warned them not to say anything, though. They have you-know-what to deal with.” Cordelia turned her coffee in her hands. “So how are you doing?”
“Pardon?” I poked at the blueberry cheesecake parfait. It was cheesecake layered in a beautiful dessert glass. Resistance had been futile.
“With the cut hours. Is everything going okay? You know you can tell me if you need anything.”
I wished I could come clean with Cordelia about that, but I couldn’t tell anyone about my new job. Who would believe it? I, Misty, was on a government payroll. The magazine was my cover now. I was paid to research paranormal activity, but my real priority was to search for answers for a secret ancient organisation in which I had been auto-enrolled by birth.
“I’m doing a bit of freelance writing here and there,” I said carefully, as I took a little bite of my cheesecake.
“I still don’t know about you freelancing,” Cordelia said with a worried frown. “It’s not regular work, and you refuse to show me anything that you’ve written.”
“I’m a bit embarrassed by it.” I nibbled on my dessert, trying to enjoy it despite the guilt of only being half-truthful with Cordelia. I was sort of freelancing. And I had to have some sort of answer for Cordelia about how I kept up with my bills on cut hours. Cordelia was too sharp when it came to some things.
“Girl’s gotta eat. I get that.” Cordelia waved a hand. “I’m not judging you or anything. I’m just worried what’ll happen if you can’t manage. I’m still cross that Skinny cut your hours and Keith couldn’t stop her. The job can be annoying, and Skinny is second cousin to the wicked witch of the west, but it does have some pretty good perks.”
I smiled and glanced around the lounge. Indeed it did. This felt more like a paid vacation than work. A luxurious paid vacation, with some investigating on the side. “I know what you mean. Who knew that we’d end up here?”
At that point I thought I saw a familiar set of broad shoulders disappearing around a corner. I did a brief double take and squinted across the room. I could almost swear the man was John. I felt sorely tempted to run out and see if it was him. But that’s impossible, I thought. He’s still in the UK.
“Misty?” Cordelia asked.
“Oh, sorry.” I shot her an apologetic smile, and then glanced back out in the direction of the lobby. “I guess the trip is catching up to me.”
If I told Cordelia that I thought I saw John, I would never hear the end of it for the whole trip, especially when I could swear I saw someone who looked vaguely like Douglas following him.
I shook my head. No, I was simply tired from the trip and a bit freaked about the ghost ladies. I was definitely seeing things. John and Douglas were miles and miles away, far off in the UK. There was no way I saw what I thought I saw.
As we went outside to explore the gardens, I kept an eye out for John’s look-alike, but sadly, he was nowhere to be found. I would have to tell John about it. He might be amused by the thought, or he would think it was stalkerish if I mistook people for him?
The place was spectacular, and Cordelia and I had more than enough material to work with for the setting of this mystery. Opulent surroundings, a magnificent, historical hotel dramatically perched high on the very edge of an escarpment.
Yet things were not adding up. The politician had left his stuff in his room and disappeared. But to where? There was nothing to suggest that anything supernatural had been involved and so that would be a difficult connection to make, even given Skinny’s creative licence with the truth. And what was with the magazine’s sudden generosity? I knew from experience not to take things for granted. I was definitely missing something.
We made our way down a gorgeous red hallway with huge hand-painted images carefully arranged behind plush chairs along the walls. This place was huge. “Perhaps the politician is simply lost in the hallways somewhere,” I said to Cordelia.
She laughed. “It would be easy for a search party to miss someone in this place. I have to wonder if any of the staff have ever seen every room.”
I wondered what John would think about a place like this. I hadn’t been able to get him off my mind since I had seen his doppelganger earlier. I could see him keeping more to the gardens and the quieter areas. The busy lounges and restaurant would be more Douglas’s scene.
“Skinny’s going to kill us,” Cordelia said casually as we inspected room numbers, keys in hand.
“Why is that?” I looked at Cordelia, and then slapped myself on my forehead. “That’s right. We were supposed to call as soon as we got in.”
“Technically, we just checked in. Our rooms weren’t ready,” Cordelia pointed out. “But there are phones.”
“We couldn’t be overheard talking to her, though?” I chewed my lip. This wasn’t the first time we’d had to brainstorm ways to avoid of Skinny’s wrath.
“That should work. We could invent a haunted room to sidetrack her with. She loves a good story about
that sort of thing. Maybe she’ll extend our stay,” Cordelia said hopefully.
I was distracted for a moment by an oil painting of a man hunting a lion. I hoped the lion had escaped harm. “I wouldn’t count on it. I think we used up our luck by having our own rooms.”
Cordelia chuckled. “Good point. Chances are we’re going to be working non-stop once we call in. I vote we wait and enjoy our rooms a little bit before she rubs our noses into the grindstone. I’m dying for a good bath.”
“That sounds nice, but part of me doesn’t want to chance it. Still, it’d be lovely to enjoy an oversized bathtub before the illusion of a holiday is broken.”
Cordelia smiled conspiratorially as she saw me wavering. “Come on. She’s going to give us grief, anyway. What’s thirty more minutes before she warns us not to waddle into work?”
That bath was sounding better by the minute. It would feel so much better without Skinny’s remarks and twenty deadlines. I felt like I was a teenager trying to sneak out of class. Bath or Skinny? Bath or Skinny?
I agreed. “I guess a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” I said, as we searched for our rooms. “I wonder if there’s a room that no one stays in due to ghosts.”
“We’ll ask house keeping later. They’re always good for friendly rumours and gossip.” Cordelia pointed to a room number. “Finally.”
I unlocked my room and turned to speak with Cordelia, but she was already gone, the door swinging shut behind her.
I took her cue and escaped into my room. I paused in the doorway and stared in awe. The room was absolutely gorgeous, with fresh flowers by the bed and jade statues decorating the shelves. Long satin curtains graced magnificent crystal-clear windows.
It was still hard to believe this was an assignment. I crossed the room to a dark polished chest of drawers and wondered whether I should unpack now, but instead, I looked out the window at the rolling landscape and deep valley below. Sure enough, Cordelia had been on the money. Even in the afternoon sun, I could already see mist gathering in the distance.
I let the curtain fall and then glanced at the phone. I felt a guilty twinge over not calling in right away, but a few minutes wouldn’t kill anybody.
I turned on the light to my bathroom, holding my breath in anticipation, and let it out in a cry of surprise as I dropped my things on the floor, stumbling backwards as I took in the scene.
A gorgeous, picture perfect bathroom, with a tub the size of a small pool, sumptuous Victorian wall mirrors, and a dead man lying on the mosaic-tiled floor.
Chapter 5
I gasped as I stumbled backwards, my hands trembling.
I tried to scream, but no sound came from my open mouth.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
In that moment, my mind went blank and a feeling of horror gripped me. Gasping for air, I ran out of the bathroom and grabbed the phone resting on the table beside the large bed. I dialled the front desk and waited for the clerk to put a stop to the incessant ringing as images of the dead man flashed through my mind.
“Hello, reception. What can I do for you?” the cheerful voice answered.
“I need an ambulance and police to Room 218 right away,” I blurted out. “There’s a dead man in my bathroom.”
“Excuse me? Did you say that there was a dead body in your room?” the voice said.
“Yes, that’s what I said. Please send help right away!” I could hear my own voice was hysterical, but that was precisely how I was feeling.
The clerk said something and the line went dead. I placed the phone back down on the table near the bed. I tried to stop trembling. What was going on? Of all the rooms in the grand hotel, I just had to have the one with a corpse in my room.
As I waited for help to arrive, I thought about the man. Was it Lucas Wallace, the missing politician? I was a journalist. I had to get control of my emotions and look at the body.
I poked my head inside the suite’s bathroom, my eyes shut tightly to keep out the fear until I was ready to face it. When I felt brave enough, I slowly opened them and had a quick look at the body. The man wore a dark suit and tie. Was it Lucas Wallace? I thought so. I had seen him on TV from time to time but couldn’t quite remember what he looked like.
I hurried from the bathroom and walked over to the bed to wait for the police. My hands trembled violently.
It seemed like an age before there was a knock at the door. I pulled open the door to see several people standing in the hallway. I assumed the police officer in front was in charge as he had a small notepad ready to scribble in.
“You found a deceased person in your bathroom,” he said. It was a statement rather than a question.
“Yes.” I stood aside to allow them to enter.
“Was this man staying in the room with you?” the officer asked.
“No!” I clutched my throat. “I’ve never met the man before. I don’t know anything about him.”
“Well, you sit out here and we’ll take a look, okay?” he said, pointing to a large chair. He then turned to another officer and whispered, “Carl, you should go out in the hall and call in the forensic team. If the look on that girl’s face is any indication, we’re going to need them.”
“Sure,” the cop said before heading towards the exit.
I walked over to the chair, watching as the cops disappeared into the bathroom. After a few minutes of inaudible chatter, several flashes of light flickered from inside the bathroom.
Finally, the first officer reappeared. He approached me with a solemn look on his face. “May I please have your name, miss?” he said, flipping open his notepad.
“I’m Misty Friday. My friend, Cordelia, is staying down the hall. We literally just arrived here at the hotel and were given our rooms. When I came in, I found the man lying there. I didn’t know what to do, so I just called reception right away. I didn’t touch him or anything,” I explained, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I see,” the officer replied, scribbling intently in his pad. “What did you and your friend come here for?”
I was caught off guard by the blunt question. “Excuse me?”
“These are routine questions that we need to ask everyone.”
I sighed and shook my head. “The magazine sent us. My friend and I work for a magazine and our editor sent us here to do an article on”—I hesitated, not wanting to say the story was on Lucas Wallace—“the Hydro Majestic.”
“Magazine’s name?” the officer barked.
I sighed. “The Ghoulzette.”
The officer’s eyebrows rose, but he did not comment. “Okay, and was this friend of yours here when you discovered the body?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “She doesn’t even know.”
“All right, so you haven’t been in this suite prior to finding him?”
I nodded. “Yes, I just got the room,” I said, watching the officer as he stared at his pad and wrote in it some more. “Is he famous or something?” I asked without thinking, but as soon as I saw the cop’s eyes light up, I regretted the question.
“Famous? Why would you ask that?” he said, now watching me closely.
“I thought he looked familiar. I think I’ve seen him on the news a few times. I could be wrong, though.”
The officer shook his head. “I can’t discuss his identification.”
The other cop returned, followed by several people in white outfits and blue gloves. The first cop motioned for them to enter, before turning to me. “Where were you today, until you got to the hotel?”
“On a train,” I said. “We were on the train for a few hours and then had to wait in the hotel for our rooms to be ready. As soon as the reception desk got word that they were, they handed us our card keys and sent us up.”
“Did anyone get into this room after housekeeping and before you?”
“I, I don’t really know,” I stuttered, my throat tightening as I spoke.
“That’s how it looks. Hotel staff memb
ers usually use a skeleton key that allows access to most, if not all, guest rooms. That means that you’re the only one other than hotel employees who could have gained access to this suite in the last few hours. I’m going to take a quick look around the rest of the suite while the team’s working in the bathroom. Then we can finish up, and you can go find your friend or wait in the lobby until we’re finished.” He nodded before walking over to look out the window.
I sat in silence as the room around me buzzed with discussion. I couldn’t make out any particular sentences. One of the people in white appeared to be dusting for fingerprints on the bathroom doorframe, while the others were still inside, presumably examining the body in depth.
After several minutes, the lead officer walked back over to me and sat down on the chair beside me. “So, from the look of the room, nothing seems out of place other than the corpse. It looks like the maid cleaned up and then you walked in, with no room in between for the body to have found its way into the bathroom. We’re going to speak with the hotel staff, but we still have a lot of work to do in here. You will need to vacate the premises.”
“Should I take my things? I didn’t even have time to unpack.”
He shook his head. “No. We need to secure the integrity of the scene, so unfortunately I couldn’t let you remove anything, even if I wanted to. First, I’ll take your witness statement.”
I shrugged. “Okay.” I stood up and took one last look at the bathroom. They hadn’t removed the body yet.
I walked towards the door. I wondered what Cordelia would think of what just happened, but for now, I needed to get as far away from my suite as I could.
Chapter 6
I wandered away from my room, still dazed by the discovery. I figured I’d be moved to a new room, so I headed towards the reception desk. The clerk was speaking to a police officer. I waited patiently until the cop gave the woman a nod and left her side.
