Elisabeth Crabtree - Pink Flamingo Hotel 01 - Death by Pink Flamingo (18 page)

“Sure,” I said sitting down on the bed. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“I have a hotel to run.”

Victoria gave me a dubious look.

“Really, I do.”

“If you say so.”

“Plus, I should wait for Ryan. He’ll probably want to see the box and the necklace,” I said, holding out my hand.

Victoria brought both hands up to her neck protectively. “Oh, no. I am not letting this little beauty out of my sight. Besides, I texted my dad, while you were talking to Ryan and he wants to see the necklace and me ASAP. Ryan will just have to take the box into evidence without the necklace.”

I dropped my hand. “It probably doesn’t matter since the thief died last night.”

Victoria started to turn toward the door when her phone rang. “Hi Dad … Okay, okay … I’ll be there in a few seconds,” she said, hanging up. “I think he’s worried about me being here.”

“I can’t imagine why. There hasn’t been a single murder committed all day.” I glanced down at the time on the face of her phone. “At least not yet. We still have another thirty minutes to midnight.”

Victoria gnawed on her lip. “Anna, please come home with me.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine,
Victoria. I don’t think the killer wants to kill me. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, I’m not alone. My new hotel security officer is here.”

“You have a hotel security officer?”

I nodded, deciding not to tell her who. “Lizzie will be downstairs manning the desk. I have a couple of reporters hanging around looking for a story and a couple of guests and as long as I have guests, I am not leaving this hotel.”

Victoria
brightened. “Plus you have Jesse. He’ll be with you. I guess I don’t have to worry. Are you going to stay in here?”

“Just until Ryan gets here.”
When Victoria hesitated at the door, I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, call me tomorrow morning and lock this door after I leave.”

“I will.” I watched as Victoria walked to the elevator. Waving good-bye as the elevator door shut behind her, I closed and locked the door.

I then sat down on the bed and decided to wait. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to wait to long for Ryan to get my message. I decided to give him thirty minutes. If I didn’t hear from him by
then, I’d go downstairs and wait for him there.

My eyes shifted to the closet door as I sat on the bed twirling my
foot, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my mind off that closet. I forcefully turned my head in the opposite direction as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. My determination to stay put until Ryan showed up and to not investigate any further lasted a total of one minute. “It couldn’t hurt to take a peek,” I said moving the closet door to the side.

Forty-five minutes later, I had the closet doors off
and I had removed a portion of the wall between the closet and the bathroom. It wasn’t until I had torn down the outside of the closet and turned my attention on the wall between 403 and 405 that I noticed that something was wrong. For one thing, the wall wasn’t covered with hideous wallpaper or painted olive green. In fact, it was painted a clean white. Another difference was that it wasn’t completely flush to the wall outside the closet boundaries. It stood out by at least a good three feet. Realizing I had probably found Barney Hudson’s last resting place, I knocked one hole into the wall and shined my flashlight in, confirming my suspicions.

I snapped off my flashlight and turned around, surprised to find Blake standing at the door.
Trying to remain calm, I lifted my safety glasses up. “Hi Blake. How did you get in here?”

He lifted a
set of keys and jingled them. “I tried knocking, but I guess you couldn’t hear me.”

“
Sorry,” I said, while making a mental note to get those keys away from him. They only opened my office and the rooms on the fourth floor, but I still didn’t feel comfortable having one of my suspects walking around with a set of keys, not that it stopped Jesse from coming and going as he pleased.
Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe Jesse is a jewel thief. How else is he getting in and out of here without keys?
“What time is it?”

“A quarter past midnight.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. I wasn’t even tired
, which I guess wasn’t that surprising since I didn’t get up until three o’clock this afternoon. I glanced to the window as rain slammed against the glass and a flash of lightening lit up the sky. “I wonder how everything is going downstairs. Have any more guests checked in?”

He put his
finger and thumb together. “Big fat zero. Hotel’s empty. Everyone’s checked out. Jesse just got a phone call and took off, too. He left in an awful hurry.”

I gripped the hammer in my hand tighter.
“What happened to the reporters?”

“Oh, they’re long gone, off chasing some other story.” He leaned his arm against the
doorframe. “Just you and me, baby.”

“You, me and Lizzie.”

“Uh uh. She’s like the wind too. Gone.”

I narrowed my eyes, rather confident that Lizzie wouldn’t leave the front lobby empty. “What happened to her?”

“She got a call from someone at her son’s fraternity. Apparently, her kid was in an accident.”

“Oh no. Is he okay?”

“Don’t know. I told her I’d come up here and let you know. She’s on her way to Gainesville right now.” He rubbed a hand across his neck before stepping into the room and looking toward the closet. “Redecorating this room, too?”

“Yeah.”

“Need some help?”

I shook my head as I pulled off my gloves. “I think I’m done for the night.
Let’s go downstairs.”

He glanced at the closet wall for a second before smiling and backing into the hallway.

I followed him down the hall, insisting that we take the stairs
instead of the elevator. The last thing I wanted was to share a small enclosed space with him at the moment.
Just in case
, I thought as I flexed my fingers around the hilt of the hammer. “It’s so much healthier to take the stairs,” I said as we descended the staircase. I fell back, making sure he stayed in front of me at all times. He seemed slightly amused but didn’t say anything until we reached the lobby.

He glanced outside and grimaced. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be looking for a room tonight. Why don’t we lock up and go to bed.”

“Actually, I have some things I need to take care of,” I said backing up toward the front desk. “You can go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Nah, I’ll stay up and keep you company.” He fell back against one of the sofas. “I’m not really very tired,” he said yawning.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

I
peeked around the corner of my office door. Blake appeared to be sound asleep on the sofa in front of the front desk. I had decided to wait until he was asleep to call the police, on the off chance he might overhear and kill me. I wasn’t positive he was the killer, but I found it awfully suspicious that everyone in the hotel had left me alone with him at pretty much the same time.

I
quietly shut the door to my office, hoping the sound didn’t wake him and walked over to my desk. I quickly took out my cell phone and called Ryan. This time, he answered on the third ring.

“Hey,
Anna, I just got your message and was about to call you.” He yawned loudly. “I’m sorry it took me so long. It’s been crazy tonight. The storms knocked out power all over town. There are trees down everywhere. We’ve been putting out crises all night. I’ll be over to look at the necklace—”

“Forget the necklace,” I whispered. “
Victoria has it. I have something more important to show you.”

“What?”

“Barney Hudson. He’s in room 405. Someone killed him and hid his body behind the wall.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Ryan asked, “Where are you?”

“In my office. Blake is outside in the lobby. We’re alone.”

“Lock your door. Don’t let anyone in. Especially not Jesse.”

“I’m more worried about Blake.”

“
Anna, do not let Jesse anywhere near you. We have a warrant out for his arrest. That’s another reason why I haven’t had a chance to get to the hotel, yet. We’re out looking for him right now.”

“Because of what happened when he was a teenager?”

“No, because of the pictures we received an hour ago. Someone sent us a picture of Jesse burying Sylvia’s body out by the old pier.”

“Blake,” I said through my teeth.
I guess this was what he meant when he said he’d take care of things.

“What?”

“Nothing. Is that all that you have on Jesse?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Ever hear of photo manipulation?” I asked weakly, despite knowing the pictures were all too real. But I also knew they didn’t tell the whole story. Blake obviously had a few of me by Sylvia’s body, as well.

“These haven’t been doctored in any way, but no that’s not all we have. Luke and I did a little more checking on Barney Hudson tonight. Hudson called one of the detectives here about four months ago asking a bunch of questions about some jewelry that was stolen from the Flamingo during a wedding. He then wanted to know what Danielle’s status was. Whether she had a clean record and such.”

“Do you know who hired him to investigate?”

“No one. He told Detective Barrymore that he was just curious. Barrymore thinks it was personal. He had a sort of vendetta against Danielle’s father, Henry Nelson. Her old man was a thief. Mostly nickel and dime stuff, but Hudson believed he was into bigger stuff than that. He could never prove it and it drove him crazy.”

“If he had a vendetta against her father that gives Danielle plenty of motive to want to see him dead. Especially if she was the thief and he knew it.”

“Anna,” he said softly, “that’s not all. I found out that we weren’t the only ones looking for Barney Hudson. Jesse was asking around about him, too.”

“Big deal,” I said
. “So was I.”

“Yeah, except Jesse was asking about him four months ago
, not today. In fact, I just spoke to a young lady who used to work in your dining room. She remembers serving a man that matched Barney Hudson’s description the morning before your uncle found that body. She says that there was another man with him. A young man. Handsome. Blond.”

“There are a lot of handsome
, young, blond men around.”

“
Anna, stop thinking with your heart.” He blew out his breath. “She said that they didn’t seem too friendly to one another. At one point, she was worried she was going to have to call the police on them, but then the young man stormed out.”

“And she’s sure it was Jesse?”

“I’m taking a photo line up to her right now to get confirmation.”

“It can’t be him. She must have seen someone else. Jesse said he didn’t know this Barney Hudson.”
Didn’t he?

“
He lied to you,” Ryan said softly. “Look, I will be there soon. If Jesse shows up before I do, don’t say anything to him. Just act casual. As soon as you can get away from him, lock yourself in one of the rooms. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Placing the cell
phone back into my pocket, I sat down, not quite sure what to do next. A clap of thunder overhead sent me back to my feet. A few seconds later, the hotel was plunged into darkness.

I looked out the window relieved to see that the lights around the boardwalk were out as well. For a second there, I was afraid someone had
just cut the electricity to the hotel.
It had to be the storm’s fault.
Why would the killer knock out the electricity to the whole block?

I walked to my door and looked out. Luckily, the emergency lights in the lobby was still working, I was just about to go back into my office when I noticed
that Blake wasn’t lying on the sofa.

“Blake?” I called
out, suddenly anxious to know where he was. I stepped out into the lobby and called his name again. Still no answer.

Suddenly, feeling very alone, I dashed back to my office and locked the door.
Maybe, he just went upstairs to bed
, I thought, trying to calm my nerves. I dropped into my chair, where I proceeded to jump at every sound.

Unable to sit still, I reached into my desk, took out
a flashlight, pen and a pad of paper.

Not wanting the light from my flashlight to show up in the window or underneath the door, I dropped to the floor and crawled under my desk. Balancing the flashlight in the crook of my neck, I made two columns on the pad of paper. The first column was a list of murder victims in order of their deaths: Barney Hudson, Uncle Max,
Sylvia and Danielle. The second column was a list of reasons why each one died.

The first one was easy. Barney Hudson was a local
ex-PI. Clearly, he discovered Danielle and her partner were responsible for the thefts and therefore, he had to die.

The next victim was Uncle Max.
I tapped my pen against the paper, fighting to remain logical and not allow myself to be swept away by emotion as I analyzed his murder.

Let’s see
, I thought to myself,
Uncle Max found Barney Hudson’s body and called police, but despite the fact that Ryan and Luke couldn’t find any body or any evidence of a crime, the killer still felt the need to kill my uncle
. According to Olivia, Uncle Max was going to put up security cameras. That might have put a crimp into Danielle’s side job of robbing our guests. He was also planning on investigating the fourth floor. Granted it was with a ghost hunting team but still … Maybe Danielle and the killer were afraid they’d get too close to the body in the wall.
Regardless of the reason,
I thought as I wrote down the possible motives for his death,
it had to do with Barney Hudson’s death.

I made a line from Sylvia’s name to the next column. Next was Sylvia, who died nearly four months after Barney and Uncle Max.
She was planning on launching her own investigation into Uncle Max’s death. That would definitely have made the killer nervous. I screwed up my face. It didn’t make any sense. She was completely convinced I was the killer. The real killer had no reason to take out Sylvia.
No reason at all.
Shaking my head, I jotted down a question mark and moved on to the last victim. Danielle.

Danielle was the easiest. I knew exactly why she died.
She was playing games and her partner didn’t like it. He felt threatened, so he killed her and I was attacked simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was positive that there was no other reason.

Next
, I decided to make a list of suspects. I started with Gabriel Carrera, but quickly drew a line through his name. He may want the hotel, but there was absolutely no reason he’d kill an ex-PI investigating the thefts at the hotel. And I was certain Barney Hudson’s death was the catalyst to all the others.

He might
have killed Hudson if he felt Danielle was threatened in some way. She was his lover … I shook my head, immediately rejecting that motive. Mr. Carrera wasn’t so passionately in love with Danielle that he’d kill for her. If he cared at all, he might have thrown money at the problem, but he wouldn’t have committed cold-blooded murder.

So, if Gabriel Carrera was cleared
, I thought,
I could probably clear my next suspect.
I ran a line through Krista’s name. Krista may have had a motive to kill Danielle—she certainly didn’t seem to be too happy to learn of Gabriel and Danielle’s affair—but like with Gabriel, she would have had no reason to kill the PI.

The next name I wrote was Blake. Borderline creepy. Definitely a blackmailer.
But was he a murderer?
According to Olivia, he and Danielle hated each other, but that could have been an act. Just like, I felt, his concern for me this afternoon. I made a question mark next to his name and moved my pen to the next empty line.

W
ith a heavy heart wrote down Jesse’s name.

My Jesse
. According to Ryan, Jesse was a thief. Not just any thief but a jewel thief.

I began listing the reasons why he could be Danielle’s partner and the murderer.
One, he’s a jewel thief; two, he was more than eager to hide Sylvia’s body; three, he was here in town when all four victims died—confirmed by not only Blake but Ryan, as well; four, he was intimately involved with Danielle. How could I forget the kiss I saw them share by the pool the day of Victoria’s party?

How many more reasons did I need?
I thought sadly.

I marked through Blake’s name and circled Jesse’s.
How could I be so stupid? I was so desperate to believe in Jesse’s innocence that I was running circles around myself trying to find other suspects, when it’s obvious that he’s the one.

Disgusted with myself, I removed the flashlight from my neck and sat back. Everything that had happened had revolved around Jesse.
Of course, he was there when I found Sylvia. He had probably just killed her. Then he pretended to be so worried about me. Afraid the cops would think I killed her. Acted so desperate to protect me. And I bought it, hook, line and sinker.

I rested my head against my
wood paneling of my desk.
But
, the little voice in my head said,
it’s Jesse
.
Jesse wouldn’t kill these people. Especially not Uncle Max. Jesse loves you.

I shook my head in irritation as I scanned my pad of paper. My eyes fell to the question mark next to
Sylvia’s name. She was the only one that didn’t fit.
Why did Jesse kill her? What reason could he have had?

It couldn’t have been because she was investigating Uncle Max’s murder. Danielle was pretty much leading her down blind alleys. There had to be another reason.

Suddenly it hit me. Victoria’s necklace. Sylvia must have caught Danielle stealing it that night. There’s no way Sylvia would have stood for that. She would have fired her on the spot. Sylvia was too straight-laced to let Danielle get away with theft and as a result, Danielle called her partner—which was obviously Jesse—and told him what happened. He then showed up and killed Sylvia.

Well, that answers that,
I thought, reaching for my paper and flashlight. Just as I started to write my theory down, a question came to my mind.
What was Sylvia doing while Danielle was calling her partner?
I saw her running around that night. It’s not like she was tied up and I’m sure that she was in no danger from Danielle. Danielle was too weak and lazy to be a threat. Sylvia, on the other hand, was strong and determined. I found out just how strong she was when we were fighting over the hammer. No, Danielle relied on her partner to do the killing. So, what exactly was Sylvia doing while Danielle was waiting for her partner to show and take care of the problem?

Unable to sit under the desk any longer, I stood and began to pace around my office, trying to envision what
Sylvia would have done upon discovering Danielle stealing Victoria’s necklace. As I reached one of the office windows, it suddenly became clear. I knew exactly what Sylvia would have done—it would have been the same thing I would have done in her circumstances—and it’s what got her killed. With a sinking feeling, I realized that I had just made the same horrible mistake.

I pulled aside the floral curtain as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky and the grounds around the window.