†
Timon and Davis entered the large, enclosed pool and spa area. There were several doors leading to both the men and women’s locker rooms, massage areas, segregated steam rooms, and the unisex weight room. Despite climate control, the large pool area was moderately moist and smelled heavily of chlorine. Both walked around the large, elegant pool. The area was an endless circle of corridors, doorways and rooms, allowing guests to move freely from one area to the next without changing out of swimsuits and plush, country club robes.
“Things have been very strange around here tonight,” Davis remarked to Timon. “Carl and Nathan seemed pretty tense at our dinner meeting.”
“After what happened to Brian, I’m not surprised,” Timon replied. “Monroe seems to suspect everyone.”
“Nathan thinks it was Asher,” Davis announced while briefly glancing at him.
“That would certainly solve all his problems, wouldn’t it?” Timon muttered. “I heard Brian had brought up the proposal of bringing Asher on as an investor and board member. Must really have burned Nathan’s britches.”
“After he was exonerated of the institute fire three months ago, I’ve been on Asher’s side with all the town drama,” Davis informed him. “Now, I’m not so sure I want to be associated with him.”
Timon glanced at him with surprise. “What? Why’s that?” he asked.
“Several club members are being blackmailed,” Davis reluctantly informed him. “When the blackmail photos and notes arrive, they’re always on days Asher visits the club. They contain postage but none are cancelled, which means someone is tossing them into the exterior mail bin.” He hesitated. “There are just little things that keep pointing to him, and I can’t turn a blind eye to it much longer.”
“Asher? A blackmailer?” Timon suddenly asked. He snorted a soft laugh. “That’s not Asher’s style. He’s also not a killer.” Timon then hesitated and appeared to reconsider. “I mean, he’d never murder anyone.”
Timon approached the steam room door and peered inside. Davis paused before the men’s locker room and pushed the door open.
“I’d like to believe you’re right,” Davis announced then sighed. “Roxy, on the other hand, is very leery of Asher. Might be my fault, I suppose. When he was first branded a killer all those years ago, I was quick to jump on the bandwagon with the rest of the town. Roxy was a very impressionable little girl, and I may have frightened her with the institute stories. She saw him as a monster after that.”
While looking into the locker room, Davis appeared curious and stepped inside. The door shut behind him. Timon stood across the corridor while peering into the sauna room then stepped out and closed the door.
“I suppose that’s natural--” Timon turned and realized Davis was no longer with him. He looked around with increased concern. “Davis?”
When there was no response, he moved from door-to-door and looked into each room. He opened the men’s locker room door as well and peered inside.
“Davis!”
There was still no response. Timon shut the door and hurried to the nearby women’s locker room. He vigorously opened the door and looked inside.
“Davis, where are you?” he demanded, although his fears were getting the better of him. He shut the door and looked around. “Shit, not again.” Timon hurried back toward the main door by the indoor pool.
Chapter Thirty-two
Soft female moans were heard from within the dark reception office. The faint sound of something scraping the floor coincided with the moans, lending an eeriness to the darkened room. A male silhouette appeared just outside the frosted reception office door in the dimly lit corridor. There was a soft click from the door as the lock was manipulated. The main door slowly opened and someone slipped inside the darkened reception area. There was another female moan. The light suddenly came on. Carl had Angel bent forward over Jacey’s desk in a compromising position while he held her hips from behind, thrusting wildly, his pants on the floor around his ankles. Both appeared startled, stopped what they were doing, and looked at the open door.
Asher casually stood inside the door with his hand on the light switch. Carl quickly pulled away from Angel, almost knocking her to the floor as he dove behind the desk. Angel allowed her skirt to fall back into place as she straightened and casually buttoned her shirt, covering her exposed bra. Her tiny grin indicated she wasn’t ashamed that she’d been caught in the act with one of the board members. Carl poked his head up from behind the desk and nervously chuckled while obviously pulling up his pants.
“Asher, what brings you by here so late?” he gasped, attempting to act as if nothing had happened.
Asher didn’t even react to what he had just witnessed. His expression remained disinterested. “I’m looking for Professor,” he announced with little emotion. “Have you seen him?”
Carl stood and tucked in his shirt while Angel adjusted her short skirt. Whether or not she wore underwear was officially up for debate.
“Uh, Professor,” he remarked and appeared to give the question some consideration, but it was obvious he was distracted about being caught banging the attractive bartender. “Uh, actually, I haven’t seen him.”
“I’m sure you haven’t,” Asher remarked.
Angel slipped into her daringly high stiletto heels and glanced at Carl.
“Times up, Carl,” she announced. “I’ll be sure to add my tip to your tab.”
Angel then headed toward Asher and the door without further comment. She smiled and winked at Asher. He barely acknowledged her as she walked past him and out the door.
“What about Roxy? Have you seen her?” Asher demanded, becoming impatient, not giving a damn that he ruined Carl’s expensive romp.
“Roxy?” Carl announced with surprise and attempted to act casual by sitting on the edge of the desk. He immediately fidgeted, wiped his hand on his pants, and straightened. “Why are you looking for Roxy?”
Asher eyed Carl’s hand then the spot he’d left behind on his pants but didn’t comment on it. Carl again fidgeted and fumbled for anything to say to break Asher’s fixed stare upon him.
“Oh, uh, good news. The board voted tonight,” Carl announced while attempting a smile and appeared enthusiastic. “You’re in.”
“Uh, huh,” Asher remarked with disinterest. “Well, I’m withdrawing my proposal and revoking my membership. You can keep the remaining yearly dues.”
Carl’s expression suddenly dropped, being stunned by the news. “But it’s been voted on. You’re in,” he announced with more conviction. “What about the club and Jacey?”
“Jacey doesn’t work here anymore,” Asher replied with little emotion. “She’s accepted another position.”
Without further comment, Asher turned and left the office, shutting the door behind him. Carl frowned then slammed his fist on the computer monitor.
“Son-of-a-bitch!”
Carl turned and stormed into Nathan’s darkened office. He flipped on the light, crossed the room, and collapsed into the swivel chair behind the desk. He snatched the phone from its cradle and pressed a button.
When the call was answered, he grumbled into the phone, “He backed out.” Carl listened to the person on the other end then became irritated. “Konrad Asher! Who the hell do you think?” He fell silent and listened another moment while frowning. “That’s what I thought too.”
The lights went out leaving Carl in the dark. He sat forward from behind Nathan’s desk and looked around in total darkness.
“Hello?” he said into the phone, but there was no sound.
Carl cursed and returned the phone to its cradle. He felt for the computer mouse and rolled it. The computer monitor lit up, giving the room a faint glow. He looked around the empty office then stood and approached the door. As he passed through the doorway, he looked across the nearly dark reception area to the fuse box on the wall just beyond Jeannette’s desk. To his surprise, the fuse box door was hanging open. He stopped his ap
proach and again looked around the darkened room. Carl appeared concerned and quickly turned back for Nathan’s office. As he entered the office, someone lunged out of the darkness from behind Jeannette’s desk and tackled him to the floor. Carl screamed and struggled against his attacker, but the smaller man was no match for his assailant. The assailant held him pinned to the floor with his knee in his abdomen and his hand to his throat. The blade of a knife glistened off the glow of the computer monitor, allowing Carl to see the weapon just before it was thrust downward into his upper chest. The knife was pulled back several times, repeatedly stabbing him as blood spattered off the blade.
†
Twenty minutes later, Sheriff Monroe, dressed in his finest cheap suit, walked along the back corridor while looking around. He approached the reception office, noting the open door and the darkness beyond it. The door should have been shut and locked. As Sheriff Monroe approached the doorway, a large man darted from the darkness of the reception area and collided with the sheriff. Both men crashed to the floor. Timon quickly scrambled to his feet and stared at Sheriff Monroe. As he sat up, Monroe saw the blood on Timon’s hands and the horrified look on his face.
“Monroe,” Timon cried out with panic and pointed his bloodied finger to the dark reception office. “It’s Carl! Someone killed him!”
Monroe appeared alarmed, scrambled to his feet, and removed his hidden revolver from his belt holster. Monroe cautiously entered the reception area with Timon directly on his heels. The glow from the Nathan’s computer was just bright enough to reveal Carl’s outstretched hand within the open doorway and the quickly collecting pool of blood beneath him. Monroe flipped the light switch by the main door, but the light didn’t come on. He turned to Timon with a concerned look on his face. Neither was ready for a repeat of the museum gala massacre.
“Call the station for additional backup,” Monroe ordered while clutching his gun.
“I tried,” Timon announced and indicated Jacey’s desk. “The phones don’t work either. Someone messed with the fuse box on the wall over there.” He indicated the open fuse box across the room. “When the power goes out, network phones won’t work. Only equipment plugged into emergency outlets work off the generator, which is usually reserved for computers.”
Sheriff Monroe eyed him suspiciously. “You seem to know an awful lot about power outages.”
“Yeah, there was another incident very similar to this one,” Timon snarled at the sheriff.
“There’s a phone just around the corner in the hall,” Monroe informed him while giving a general nod toward the office door. “Try that one. If you can’t get a dial tone, go to the smoking room. Someone in there will have a cell phone.”
Timon uncertainly nodded then hurried from the room. Monroe slowly entered the reception office. He approached Nathan’s office and got his first look at Carl’s body just beyond the doorway, finally able to identify him. Monroe replaced his gun to his hidden holster, crouched before the dead man, and observed the multiple stab wounds along with the blood spatter from the gruesome kill.
“Jesus--” he muttered.
Monroe appeared alerted to someone’s presence and was about to turn while reaching for his hidden gun when he was suddenly struck on the head. Monroe half stood, staggered away from the doorway, and then fell to the floor. Sheriff Monroe was grabbed by the ankles and pulled across the dark room.
Chapter Thirty-three
Jacey slowly woke from where she lie face down on an old, hardwood floor. She sat up, feeling disoriented, and her head pounded. As she gingerly touched her head, she felt a comforting hand touch her shoulder. She looked up and saw Professor kneeling over her. He gently touched her face with a sympathetic look and offered a tiny smile. Jacey was so relieved to see Professor; she barely noticed the dried blood in his hairline. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He returned the embrace. She pulled back and looked at him with relief.
“Oh, Professor,” she gasped softly. “Thank God you’re okay. We thought something terrible happened to you.”
Professor dabbed the dried blood near the back of his head and forced a tiny smile. “You’re not far off with that,” he remarked gently.
She stared at the dried blood and became concerned. “Oh, are you okay?”
“How I’m feeling is the least of our worries,” he replied.
Jacey uncertainly looked around and realized she was in the last aisle of the file room. Horror shuttered through her body as she took in her surroundings.
“How the hell did I get here?” she gasped.
Jacey then saw Roxy pacing at the end of aisle, her arms folded across her chest and a frightened look on her youthful face. She looked demandingly at Jacey and Professor where they remained on the floor.
“Are you going to tell her or should I?” Roxy growled impatiently.
Jacey looked from Roxy to Professor with panic in her eyes. “Tell me what? What’s going on?”
“We’re all sort of trapped down here,” Professor informed her then inhaled deeply and seemed reluctant to continue. He stared into her eyes with increasing concern for their situation. “Roxy found evidence that suggests Jeanette and Brian may have been blackmailing Asher.”
“May have?” Roxy demanded then groaned with disgust and returned to pacing.
Jacey stared at Professor with a shocked look. She attempted to pull herself to her feet, although her head was still spinning slightly from the drugs used to knock her out.
“Asher didn’t kill Jeanette or Brian,” Jacey announced bluntly. “Everyone in town has threatened or attempted to blackmail Asher at one time or another. It’s common knowledge. He’s the perfect scapegoat for all occasions.”
“Well, this could be a little different. Roxy found one of those spy cam pens in Jeanette’s desk,” Professor gently informed her. “When she inserted the USB into the computer, it pulled up video of a heated argument between Brian and Asher.”
“Involving you,” Roxy bluntly informed Jacey.
Jacey stared at Roxy a moment then glanced at Professor. “Not exactly news. That’s not really anything new,” she remarked. “It certainly wouldn’t prove he killed Brian.”
“But it gives him motive,” Roxy informed her, becoming disgusted with the entire Asher debate. “Brian was using an argument he’d heard between Asher and Maxwell against Asher. Brian wanted Asher to become a board member, so he’d vote with him and Carl.”
Professor appeared sympathetic while watching Jacey process the information. “I would appear Asher and Maxwell got into an altercation--over you. Asher admitted he was in love with you, which is around the same time things went south between them.” He gently took her hand and stared into her eyes. “You said Asher was acting strangely. With what Jeannette and Brian were holding over him, that was probably why he was behaving that way.”
Jacey gently placed her hand over Professor’s and stared back into his eyes with a serious look. Her words were calm but bitter. “Are you actually suggesting Asher abducted and dumped me here? Do you know how insane that sounds?”
“Stop defending the guy,” Roxy blurted out. “Your blind faith in the guy is going to get you killed. Maybe us too!” She took a deep breath and attempted to remain calm. “Someone knocked both of us out,” Roxy informed her. “Neither of us saw who did it, but we can’t rule out Asher.”
Jacey rolled her eyes and was about to defend Asher when Roxy continued with her rant.
“The two of us were blindfolded, tied, and gagged here in the file room,” she announced firmly. “We’re not sure how long we were being held. In fact, we didn’t even know the other was down here until a few minutes ago.”
“After we heard someone enter the file room, presumably dumping you, we managed to get untied,” Professor informed her. “That’s when we found you.”
“I know you care about Asher, Jacey,” Roxy announced with a more sympathetic tone, “but you have to see it all points back to him.”
“He’s crafty,” Roxy replied. “I’m sure you weren’t with him the whole time.”
Asher was indeed crafty, but she also knew his craftiness this afternoon was all about seeing how many positions he could safely attempt without causing physical harm to either of them. Jacey wasn’t going to have the Asher argument with Roxy. She knew she’d never convince her of Asher’s innocence even if she admitted to her afternoon of passion with the town’s most infamous man. What she did find troublesome was Professor actually buying into Roxy’s story. He knew Asher better than to believe any wild rumors.
“After what happened last night, he could have gone over the deep end,” Professor gently informed her.
Now he was just pissing her off. She decided against sharing how she knew Asher was innocent.
“He didn’t go over the deep end,” Jacey insisted to Professor. “He was with me all afternoon. You’re just going to have to trust me on this. He’s your friend, Professor, you know him better than that.”
“He’s on the edge and has nothing left to lose,” Roxy insisted. “I saw him last night when he was drunk--or I should say pretending to be drunk.”
Jacey appeared surprised then angered.
“He was afraid he’d lose you and he blamed the board members and those who were blackmailing him,” Roxy informed her. “I know how men like that think. You’re not above his wrath. If he can’t have you, he’ll see you dead. Who else could it be? Who else had reason to abduct you?”
She sharply eyed the young woman she thought was her friend. If Roxy thought Asher was the killer type because he was protective of her, she’d be in for a rude awakening when she realized Jacey was twice as protective of Asher. She’d probably realize it when Jacey finally punched her in the face.
The Deadliest Institution Collection Page 40
