by Diane Capri
Lois said, “Come with me to talk to the mayor and the rest of our guests at the chamber of commerce meeting. We need to explain what’s going on.”
I nodded, and away we went.
Chapter 7
Forty-five minutes later, I was standing with Lois Park, Mayor Hamilton, and the sheriff just outside the conference room to go over the situation. We hadn’t told the guests anything, but we’d informed the staff.
After conferring with the front desk, we discovered that the victim, Thomas Banks, had checked into the hotel this morning and was booked into room 209. Lane, who had checked him in, said that Thomas claimed he was here on business. But there was no Thomas Banks registered for the chamber of commerce meetings. When asked, Mayor Hamilton said she didn’t recognize the name.
“Do we need to cancel the conference?” the mayor asked. “I would hope not. A lot of planning has gone into this, and there are lots of good businesses represented. The island economy needs this, too.”
“I don’t think canceling will be necessary for the time being,” the sheriff said.
I was about to offer my opinion on the matter, when tall-and-handsome from the tea room strode toward us. He was wearing a different suit and shoes. I really hoped my tea hadn’t been the reason for that. “I heard there was a murder,” he said.
The mayor nodded. “This is Mayor Daniel Evans from Frontenac City on the mainland.” Sheriff Jackson shook his hand.
“Daniel, this is Lois Park, the hotel proprietor. And this is…” She frowned at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know your name or why you are here.”
“I’m Andi Steele…”
Lois interjected, “She’s our concierge and needs to be apprised of the situation to better serve our guests. She’s also the one who found Mr. Banks.”
Mayor Evans nodded toward me, likely recognizing me as the dolt who spilled tea all over his expensive shoes. “What’s the course of action here?”
“I was just explaining to the sheriff how I felt it would be a real loss to the island if we had to cancel our conference,” Mayor Hamilton said.
“I agree,” Mayor Evans said, “but there must be a proper procedure we need to follow. A man has been killed.”
I nodded. “If I may—”
“Andi,” Lois warned, “what did we discuss?”
“I know, it’s just…well, if I were in charge, I would close the hotel and prevent anyone from leaving and anyone new from checking in.” The sheriff’s frown really deepened, but I kept going since I was already on a roll. No point in stopping now. “I mean, as far as we know, the killer has already left the hotel. And if he hasn’t, he will soon. Everyone will need to be sequestered inside until they all can be questioned and their whereabouts verified for the time of the murder.”
Lois sighed and shook her head.
Mayor Hamilton cocked her hip and arched one of her sculpted eyebrows. “That would take several hours. Daniel and I have reservations in the village at the Seaside Grill for a late dinner and drinks with the biggest land developer in Michigan. Several other business owners from the island and from the mainland will be joining us. We can’t possibly miss it.”
“Yes, but wouldn’t you say solving this murder is more important?” I countered.
No one looked amused. Although Mayor Evans looked like maybe he wanted to smile. It could’ve been wishful thinking on my part. I’d yet to see him smile, but I’d have bet he could flash a megawatter when he wanted to.
Sheriff Jackson grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side. “We need to have a conversation.”
“Fine.” I pulled my arm out of his grip. “But I don’t like to be manhandled.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I apologize.” He didn’t sound even a little bit sorry.
“Look, Sheriff, I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job, but you have to admit I’m right. You know you need to preserve the integrity of the scene. Evidence of all kinds is already lost at this point, wouldn’t you say?” I paused. “The killer’s lawyer will have a field day if you fail to follow procedures here. You don’t want the killer to get away scot-free, do you?”
Sheriff Jackson scowled. “Ms. Steele, I heard you were some hotshot lawyer out west, and that’s fine. But here, I’m the law. I’m in charge. What I say goes.”
“Then be in charge…because all I’ve seen so far—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Ms. Steele. I don’t want to have to take you down to the station and interrogate you for the rest of night.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that you’re pissing me off.”
“Sheriff—”
He put up his hand to stop my next words. “I will make sure no one leaves and that we question everyone.”
I grinned. I couldn’t keep the smugness out of it, though.
“I’ve got two deputies here right now, and two others I could call in to help.”
“I could help,” I offered. “I have extensive experience with witness interviews.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Sheriff, I could be invaluable to you.”
He rubbed a hand over his face again and gave me a hard stare. “Ms. Steele, the last thing you will ever be to me is invaluable. The best thing for you to do is to help Lois organize the rooms where my deputies can question people. Other than that, please stay out of my way.”
He strode back to where the others stood and explained his plan. Which was really my plan, although he didn’t give me any credit for it. But I would do what he asked and stay out of his way.
Or at least I would give it the old college try.
Oh, who was I kidding? I wasn’t going to stay out of it.
I was smack-dab in the middle of it, and I was going to find out who killed Thomas Banks. I couldn’t do anything about my old boss stealing millions from clients and costing me my job, but this I could do. And I would.
Chapter 8
By the time the sheriff and his deputies finished all the interviews, it was well past midnight, and there were a lot of tired, angry hotel guests. I tried to ease the suffering, since in a way it was my fault that everyone was held for questioning in various conference rooms. I made sure there were plenty of drinks and food, courtesy of the hotel, which perturbed Lois, but I figured it was the responsible thing to do, considering the situation.
I was able to placate the mayors, too, by suggesting we put them in a separate room with the business people they had planned to join for dinner and provide them with a meal and drinks. They could schmooze in between interviews.
The food was easy to manage—the hotel’s head chef, Justin, just happened to be Mayor Hamilton’s husband. So, thankfully, that was convenient. At least now when I entered the room, she didn’t give me a death glare; it was more of an annoyed glance. I figured that was progress.
While I managed to stay out of Sheriff Jackson’s way during the interviews, I did keep my ears and eyes open. I got a nugget of info, indirectly, from a very yappy deputy named Shawn (the green-faced deputy who was guarding the maintenance room earlier). He was trying to impress the group of bridesmaids at the hotel for a bachelorette party and told them the coroner put the time of death somewhere between two and seven p.m.
Since I discovered the body at around eight, and he had looked rather fresh and not stiff with rigor—yes, I had checked and lifted his arm—TOD was likely closer to seven than two. Which then frightened me a bit to think that if I had entered the area any earlier, I could have run into the killer. I’d like to think I would’ve acted proactively. I’d taken several self-defense classes, so I would’ve been prepared, but a person never knows how they are going to react in a life-or-death situation until it’s upon them. Frankly, I didn’t want to test that theory.
After the sheriff gave the go-ahead to release everyone, I helped Lois and Ginny get the guests back to their rooms or to horse-drawn taxis if they were leaving the hotel.
The staff members were
none too happy with me once they found out I’d been the one to make the interview suggestion. There were a lot of grumblings about not being paid overtime to stick around and answer questions. How they found out it was my suggestion remained a mystery, but my money was on Eric’s wife. Nicole managed the restaurant and the waitstaff. She seemed to have all kinds of animosity toward me. As if it was my fault poor Mr. Banks was murdered and stuffed inside the pool’s utility closet.
While assisting the guests after the interviews, I ran into Herb Lowry and his wife. He’d thanked me for finding his wallet and apologized profusely that searching for it had been the reason I had found the body.
How everyone knew I’d found the body perplexed me, too. Who the heck would be spreading that around? I would’ve thought the sheriff would want that piece of information kept confidential.
I suppose it was the curse of small towns and me being the outsider. They all knew each other, and no one knew much about me. I’d been on the job for less than twenty-four hours.
Gossip tended to spread quickly and efficiently under such circumstances. I hoped that would aid me in my quest to find the killer. If not, it should make the sheriff’s job easier. Or possibly more complicated. Gossip worked two ways: it could shed light on a situation, or it could really muddle things.
While Herb Lowry was all apologetic, his wife was straight-up opportunistic. She hounded me for the next twenty minutes about how the hotel should pay for their four-day stay. That it was only fair, considering the undue stress it had put on her and their children. Children who had been happily entertained for the past five hours free of charge by hotel staff who plied them with snacks and drinks and a movie at the small on-site theatre.
I told her the best I could do was a free gift basket from the local soap company. She seemed to be happy with that, miraculously. For the moment, anyway.
Chapter 9
After everyone was secured in their rooms, I was able to drag my butt back to my suite. I’d worked many long days for the firm in the past, but this day had been exhausting. Almost twenty-four hours of non-stop problems and not much food or water.
My body was still a bit shaky. Probably one part dehydration, one part shock. I needed sustenance. Since the hotel convenience store was closed, I figured I’d just pop by one of the vending machines. So what if the only one in the whole place just happened to be by the pool and spa? It was pure coincidence. I mean, it was on the way to my suite. Sort of. If I happened to do a roundabout first. And then ventured down a dead-end corridor.
The area was cordoned off, not by police tape—that would’ve been too unseemly to satisfy Lois Park’s customer service standards—but by the big sign that read CLOSED DUE TO CLEANING.
I’d asked about that sign earlier. Maintenance staff claimed they had not in fact shut the pool area down to clean it. Which probably meant the sign was put there by the killer.
I couldn’t risk entering the enclosure; the sheriff would be livid and probably charge me with something like obstruction of justice, so I just looked around the corridor. There was only one way in and out of the hallway leading to the pool and spa.
Looking up, I searched for closed circuit cameras. There were none, but I did spy the door to the stairwell. I went over and opened the door, which did not need a key card, and saw it led up to the guest rooms.
Back to the pool doors, my gaze swept over the floor and walls.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for; it wasn’t like I was just going to magically stumble upon the murder weapon. But something just didn’t sit right with me.
I looked down at the red carpet in front of the door to the pool’s entrance. Had it been wet before I discovered the body?
I remembered almost slipping when I’d opened the door and gone inside. The floor had been excessively wet around the pool. The body had a lot of water around it, too.
Which meant it had been wet at some point.
Which probably meant it had been in the pool.
So, a strong possibility was that the victim had been hit in the head and fell into the pool.
That would mean the killer had to pull the body out of the pool, drag it to the utility room, and stuff it in the closet.
The killer would’ve been soaked during the process.
That meant he or she—I couldn’t necessarily rule out a woman, although it required a lot of strength to drag that body—would have exited the pool area wet with soggy clothes.
A wet person in wet clothes would’ve been noticed walking around the hotel, so that didn’t happen.
Adrenaline spiked inside me as I put the pieces together. My gaze landed on the frosted glass doors leading to the spa.
Since the spa closed at six, the doors would’ve been locked by the time the victim was killed, but that didn’t necessarily mean no one got inside later. The spa would’ve been a good place to change out of wet clothes inconspicuously.
I cupped my hands on the glass and peered inside. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see much from this vantage point. I needed to get in there.
I tried the door. It was locked. I needed a special key card, which I did not have with me, to open it. The killer wouldn’t have had the special key card, either.
How would he get inside without breaking in through the front door? How would he get in without being seen?
Was there a back door?
“What are you doing?” Lois Park said sternly behind me.
I jumped a foot and banged my head into the glass. Rubbing my head, I turned to see Lois frowning at me from the mouth of the corridor. “Nothing.”
“It’s late. You should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day.”
“You’re right.” I walked toward her.
She patted me on the shoulder. “It won’t always be this crazy here. Eventually you’ll get into a routine and be more comfortable dealing with the guests. I know it’s hard filling such big shoes. Casey, our regular concierge, is very well loved here.”
I nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that.” More than once actually. Many times. People kept saying it to me all day long. To the point that I’d wondered whether Casey was some kind of genius or if I was just that inadequate.
“Goodnight,” Lois said.
“Night.” I made my way down the corridor. I heard Lois’s voice as I walked and thought she was talking to me, so I stopped and turned.
But she wasn’t even looking at me. She was looking straight ahead at…no one. “I know, Henry. But for Ginny’s sake, we should at least give her a chance.”
My gut clenched at the sight of Lois talking to her dead husband, and I turned and kept walking, not wanting to disturb her. Was she delusional? Maybe. Or maybe Henry was really there, and I just couldn’t see him. Old places like the Park Hotel were thought to be haunted sometimes. I would mention it to Ginny next time I saw her, just in case it was something to be concerned about—her mom talking to dead people.
I shook off the eerie feeling as I left the corridor and came out into the lobby. As I went to turn the corner to head to my suite, I spotted Frontenac City Mayor Daniel Evans going out the front doors. He was no longer wearing a business suit. Instead, he sported spandex running shorts and a t-shirt that hugged a very nicely toned body. Not bad.
When I finally reached my room, I opened the door and nearly fell inside. I hadn’t realized just how exhausted I really was. I locked the door, threw the deadbolt, and then went up the steps to my bed. Scout and Jem meowed at me in greeting from the cat pile they had made in the middle of the bed. I sat next to them and scratched their little heads. Jem rolled over for a tummy rub. I started to feel a bit better.
After some thorough attention to my babies, I took a quick shower to get the stink of chlorine off my skin. I’d probably now associate that smell with death for the rest of my life. Once I was changed into my loungewear, I grabbed a bottle of cold water from the mini-fridge and slumped onto the sofa to drink it.
I was having a hard time win
ding down. I desperately needed to sleep, though. I would finish my water, diffuse some lavender oil, put on my ocean-sounds sleep app, and lie down in my bed.
I just hoped images of Thomas Banks with his gray skin and clouded eyes didn’t haunt my dreams. In the morning, I planned to find out everything I could on the man and also check out the spa. I had a feeling that I was onto something there.
Standing, I stretched and walked to the balcony doors to look out into the night. The view from my room was spectacular, even in the dark. The moon illuminated the water that rippled just beyond the cliffs. It looked like a gorgeous night, and I wondered where Daniel Evans was headed for his run. The handsome mayor was probably the last person I should’ve been thinking about, but I couldn’t help my hormones. He was pleasant to look at, and he smelled good, too. I was a sucker for a man who didn’t smell like a cologne factory.
I took a long drink of water and then stopped, the bottle still on my lips. Beyond my patio, just past the walking path that wound around the hotel, was a figure standing barely out of reach of the light from the streetlamp.
It was a silhouette of a man, a tall man, facing my windows.
The hairs on my arms rose as dread surged through me. I was certain that whoever was standing there was looking directly at me.
I slid open the balcony doors and walked out onto my little patio. It took every bit of restraint not to call out, “Are you watching me?” But there was no need because the figure turned and ran into the darkness.
I jumped over the short railing separating my patio from the grounds and jogged to where I’d seen him standing. I turned and looked toward my suite. Yup, I could see inside my room plain as day, especially with my lights on.
To be fair, though, I couldn’t see inside a few darkened windows in the same area.
I looked into the darkness where he’d dashed, hoping to catch sight of something that could identify him. I didn’t see any figures out on the cliffs in the night.
