by Tasha Black
“Is there a Sullivan staying at Hemlock House?” Channing asked.
“No,” she told him. “I went through the whole log.”
“Very good,” Channing said approvingly. “Then what happened?”
“Brian came rushing out of the solarium,” she told him. “He practically knocked me into the dining room table.”
“I thought you said you were at your desk,” Channing said.
“I was curious,” she admitted, feeling her cheeks burn. “And the argument sounded violent enough I was also worried it might end in a fist fight. I thought I should check it out.”
“Very wise,” Channing said. “And your natural curiosity has given us clues we wouldn’t have had otherwise. What else?”
“I went to the solarium, but no one was there, then I checked the sitting room,” Dru said, then paused, uncertain how she could share the next part without getting herself into trouble.
It wasn’t fair.
“Go on,” Channing said. “Was someone there?”
“No,” she said. “I headed back into the corridor to check out the kitchen and then Brian came back.”
“Did he have anything with him?” Channing asked.
Dru was taken aback by the question.
“No,” she said. “At least he didn’t have anything in his hands.”
“Think back,” Channing encouraged her. “Try to picture his hands.”
“Oh, I can picture them just fine,” Dru said. “He, uh, he touched me.”
She could see Channing lowering the notepad in the semi-darkness.
“Please explain exactly what you mean,” he said softly. “You can take as much time as you need.”
Dru took a deep breath.
“He came right up to me and put his hand behind me on the wall,” she said. “He said he thought I must get lonely up on the mountain at night.”
She closed her eyes, smelling his rancid breath again.
“I told him I had to go, but he grabbed my shoulder and then my jaw,” she said.
In the darkness, Channing nodded sympathetically.
She was grateful to him for remaining quiet.
“I kneed him in the, uh, privates,” she said. “I don’t know if the police will find any bruising.”
“Good for you, dear,” Channing whispered.
“And then Viktor Striker came downstairs and told him if he caught him making unwanted advances again, he would report him to the police,” Dru said.
“It was very brave of you to tell me this,” Channing told her softly. “What he did to you must have made you feel powerless and angry.”
“Yes,” she said. “But I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s not what I meant, but thank you for clarifying,” Channing said. “What about this Viktor Striker. Would he be willing to kill to protect your honor?”
“I don’t think so,” Dru said. “He’s very mild mannered.”
“Plenty of criminals are,” Channing observed thoughtfully.
“Nonetheless,” Dru said. “I really don’t think he had anything to do with it. And he was with me outside.”
Except for the time he was inside, getting my gloves.
Dru decided to leave that part out.
Channing shrugged. “We’ll get to the bottom of it somehow.”
And though he was a little bit ridiculous, and a lot over the top, Dru suddenly thought that Hugh Channing really might figure this thing out.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she told him.
“We’d better get back out there, before they all panic,” he suggested.
She nodded, and they headed back into the corridor.
“Oh,” Hugh said in surprise.
Viktor stood, half-shrouded in shadow, just outside the sitting room door.
“Drucilla, you shouldn’t be alone with anyone right now,” Viktor hissed. “Not even this guy.”
“A fair point, my friend,” Hugh said, clapping Viktor on the shoulder.
Viktor winced and didn’t respond.
Dru wondered how long he had been in the corridor.
But there was no time to waste on the question. Hugh Channing was sweeping back into the lobby with the two of them trailing in his wake.
3
Dru turned to Viktor when they reached the lobby again.
“Why were you lurking in the hall?” she whispered.
“You shouldn’t be alone with anyone right now,” he whispered back. “For all I knew, that little creep pulled you aside to murder you.”
His eyes were flashing and his jaw was tight with tension. She had never seen him like this. He hadn’t been this intense when he’d confronted Brian Thompson. Something had him on edge.
But she supposed a dead body was enough to put anyone off their game.
“Well, he wasn’t,” Dru said. “Channing seems like he’s really making every effort to help.”
Viktor shrugged.
“Are you… jealous?” she asked.
“Of course not,” he retorted, loudly enough that Angie Wilder turned to smirk at them. “We shouldn’t be whispering. It looks suspicious.”
“Literally everyone else is whispering,” Dru said, gesturing around the room.
“We need to think about what to do with the body,” Tyler Park said as he came back down the stairs from depositing Hazel and Honey in their room.
“We mustn’t disturb the crime scene,” Channing said.
“Did you see the tree that’s down over the driveway?” Tyler asked. “Do you know how long it’s going to take for the authorities to get out here? They don’t even know we need them yet.”
“Volumes of evidence are contained in that corpse,” Channing said.
Jenna Wilder let out a small gasp, presumably at the word corpse.
Jeffrey pulled her to his chest.
“Do you know what else is contained in that corpse?” Tyler asked. “Bacteria, bile, blood, and fecal matter, just to name a few things. As we speak, his body is cooling and stiffening, which will make it harder to work with each minute that passes. By morning, his skin will be marbleizing from the gases trying to escape. Blow flies will be using his body as a breeding ground, filling him with their maggots. And he will begin to stink. Soon, bloating from putrefaction will have his eyes and tongue protruding out of his face. Do you think he’ll be more fun to move then?”
More than one of the gathered crowd looked a little ill at Tyler’s words. Dru was glad to know it wasn’t just her.
“Dear God man, there are ladies present,” Channing cried.
Dru couldn’t tell if Channing really thought that the women in the group had more delicate sensibilities, or if that’s just what he felt the vaguely-southern gentleman detective he seemed to be inhabiting would say. She had to admit, his dedication to the craft was impressive. She might just have to go see one of his plays when this was all over.
“I think we should move him now,” Oscar said lightly, raising his hand as if he were casting a vote about whether or not to have a picnic on the lawn.
More hands went up.
“Okay, okay,” Channing said, throwing his own hands up. “Who would like to help.”
All the hands went down.
“That seems about right,” Tyler said, rolling his eyes.
“Gentlemen, step forward,” Channing said. “This falls to us.”
“Sexist,” Melody said, handing Mayor Tuck her camera and stepping forward.
“Thank you, dear lady,” Channing said to her.
“Don’t mention it,” Melody replied, rolling her eyes.
Angie Wilder snickered.
Jeffrey Wilder stepped forward too, giving his daughter a look that she studiously ignored.
Dru looked to Viktor.
He was pale and tense, but when he sensed her eyes on him, he stepped forward as well.
“Whatever,” Johnny Smith said, and joined the others.
“I’ll man the desk,” Hai
ley offered. “In case anything comes back online.”
“That should be sufficient,” Channing said. “Dru, I’m sorry to ask it, but would you come and record the moving of the body for us.”
“Record it?” she asked.
“Make note of anything you observe,” he told her.
She took a deep breath and headed over.
“We’ll want to roll him up in the rug,” Tyler suggested. “That will be the easiest way.”
“Won’t it be much heavier that way?” Jeffrey Wilder asked.
“At least it’ll keep all his guts in,” Johnny said. “Probably.”
“Would his guts have fallen out?” Jeffrey asked, looking a little green around the gills.
“I think what he means is that the blood and other loose body matter will stay with the corpse if we wrap the body in the rug,” Tyler said.
“Yeah, sure,” Johnny said. “It’ll be like a burrito.”
“Can we just do this?” Jeffrey asked.
“Of course,” Channing said.
But of course they couldn’t, because they had to figure out how to roll up the rug first.
Brian Thompson, obnoxious even in death, had fallen at an angle, which meant they would have to adjust him before rolling him up.
Tyler gamely took his head and shoulders and Jeffrey took his feet.
As Tyler lifted, the head fell backward, revealing the scarlet gash at the neck.
“Hey,” Dru said. “Look at his neck.”
“I’d really rather not,” Jeffrey said in a pinched voice.
“No, not the wound,” Dru said.
“What is it, child?” Channing asked her.
“His cross necklace,” Dru told him. “It’s missing.”
“It probably came off when the attacker slashed his neck,” Tyler pointed out reasonably.
“Then it should be here somewhere,” Channing said. “Place him down again and let’s find it.”
The others begrudgingly obeyed.
Dru turned her back as Tyler and Channing shifted the body around looking.
“Roll him over,” Channing called out.
Dru shivered.
“Nothing,” Tyler said.
“We’ll search his room for it,” Channing suggested.
“He was wearing it every time I saw him,” Dru said.
“Then this may be a clue,” Channing said. “Well done.”
Dru nodded, hating the feeling of so many eyes on her.
If it was a clue, then the murderer definitely knew it was her fault that it had been brought to light.
“I’ll go on ahead and open up the catacombs,” she said absently.
“You’ll do what?” Channing asked.
“The basement tunnels, I mean,” Dru said. “It’s cold enough down there to preserve him somewhat. We can’t put him outside, or the animals will get to him. And it will be easiest to get him down there if we go out the back way.”
With a swirl of snow and a gust of wind, the front door opened and Howie entered, with Zander and Chester in tow.
“What’s going on here?” Howie asked.
“We’re moving the body to the basement,” Channing said, as if it had been his idea all along. “It can’t be allowed to decompose in here.”
“That rug is an antique,” Howie retorted.
“Perhaps you’d like to have a look at it?” Channing offered.
Howie stepped closer, took one look, and backed away quickly, waving his hands. “Go ahead, do what you have to do.”
“I’ll help,” Zander offered.
Viktor stepped back immediately. “I’ll accompany Miss Holloway to the basement to open up.”
“Fine, fine,” Channing said.
“I would help,” Howie informed them. “But I need to… put Mr. Moosehead back up on the wall before someone trips on him.”
He was obviously reaching with that excuse. The giant moose head had been down since before Dru started her shift. She assumed Gert must have taken him down to give him a cleaning.
But it didn’t matter. Howie would only be in the way anyway. And someone should stay behind to watch over the other guests.
Dru grabbed her coat and headed out to the dining room and into the solarium with Viktor trailing behind her.
She had a weird feeling she couldn’t place, the hair on the back of her neck was standing up.
You’re in the middle of a murder scene. You were just privy to a very detailed description of decomposition. It makes sense that your Spidey-senses are tingling, she told herself.
But there was something else tickling her mind too.
“Slow down,” Viktor said. “It’s going to take them a few minutes to catch up. They haven’t secured the body yet.”
“Sorry,” she said.
“You’re understandably upset,” he said gently. “This is frightening for everyone.”
“You don’t seem frightened?” she observed.
“I am, though,” he told her. “I’m just better at hiding it. But I can’t stand the thought of you being in danger. Please don’t go anywhere without me, Drucilla.”
“Aren’t you even a little bit scared for yourself,” she asked.
He smiled a bitter smile. “Let me focus on worrying about you.”
She opened the door leading out of the solarium. A blast of icy wind lifted her hair. The storm seemed to be intensifying. The world outside was just a blank sheet of white.
She ducked her head and headed out into the weather.
Viktor took her arm, and together they battled the driving wind and snow to get to the basement entrance. She slid the skeleton key out and opened the door.
For once, she was relieved to step down into the stony tunnels below.
Once she was out of the snow, she took a deep breath of slightly less cold, musty air.
“You’re freezing,” Viktor said, pulling her into his arms.
He felt so good, his arms strong and secure around her. She closed her eyes and basked in his presence.
“Oh, Drucilla,” Viktor murmured, nuzzling her hair.
She felt her heart rate slowing and her body coming back to itself, comforted.
But there was a commotion at the threshold. The others must have managed to roll up the body faster than expected.
“Dru,” Channing shouted.
“Right down here,” she called back, heading toward the steps to guide them in.
Behind her, Viktor sighed.
4
Dru wrapped her coat around herself and followed the others up the stairs and back out into the storm.
It had been a little gut-wrenching to leave a person’s body alone in the dark tunnels, wrapped haphazardly in an old rug.
But what choice did they have?
She tried not to think about the rats she sometimes saw in the tunnels. At least the body wouldn’t be mauled by bigger animals.
Viktor wrapped an arm around her as they walked, but when they reached the solarium door again, he had to let go so she could walk inside.
She slowed her pace and let the others go back into the lobby ahead of them, not anxious to be surrounded by the stressed-out crowd again. But after a lap around the solarium, she realized she was going to need a little more time.
“I think I need to go upstairs and catch my breath for a minute,” she told Viktor.
“Of course,” he told her. “I’ll come with you.”
She went back to the front desk, but Hailey was nowhere in sight, so she grabbed the Bee Right Back sign. The guests could do without her for a little while.
“I’ll take over for a bit,” Zander said, moving to join them.
“You don’t have to do that,” Dru said.
“What else do I have to do?” he asked. “I can’t get back home. I already told Hailey to go get some rest.”
“Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “You can use my room to shower and sleep and stuff until they open the road back up.”
“Than
ks, Dru,” he said with a smile that looked tired, but genuine.
“Come, Drucilla,” Viktor said impatiently.
She turned to him, noticing once again how brutally handsome he was. His dark hair was tousled from the wind outside, and his icy blue eyes seemed to cut through her like diamonds.
She headed for the stairs without a word, Viktor shadowing her.
The wide wood planks of the lobby floor looked pale and naked without the rug that had covered them for over a hundred years.
There would be no way to be in the lobby without remembering what had happened.
She headed down the darkened corridor, using her phone for light. It occurred to her to worry about what would happen when the battery died.
“Weren’t they supposed to turn on the generator?” she remembered.
“I thought so,” Viktor agreed.
They walked on in silence.
At last, Dru reached the door to her room.
“Listen, Viktor, I kind of want a moment to myself,” she told him.
He looked uncomfortable, but nodded. “I’ll be right here,” he told her. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Thanks,” she said, unlocking her door and slipping inside.
She tried to lock the door silently, but of course it made a crisp click when she turned it.
He had definitely heard that. She hoped it hadn’t hurt his feelings.
She paced the floor, allowing all that had happened to wash over her.
There had been a murder, an actual murder, with blood and slashing and a dead victim wrapped in the lobby carpet. It made the horror story she’d been trying to dream up for her book seem a little silly.
And while Channing had them all busy collecting evidence and dealing with the body, no one was talking about the most urgent issue.
There was a murderer at Hemlock House.
The killer was guaranteed to still be among them, because there was literally nowhere else to go. No one could get in, or out.
And Dru was going to be a sitting duck down at the desk all night long.
She would be alone, in plain view of the landing and stairs above her, the lobby in front of her, the dining room and the corridor behind her, and the vending machine alcove to her right.
And she would be not ten feet from where the body had been discovered.
