Roses Are Red; He's Dead (A Mellow Summers Paranormal Mystery Book 9) (10 page)

“Which you had insisted was a paperweight and it was buried under cheese wrappers,” I said.

“We need to find that ruby,” said Greg. Whoever killed Matherson, must have known he had had it at one time, before learning that you had somehow acquired it. But, if Billy had stolen it from Matherson, how did he know to search our place?”

“I ran into Matherson while in town and he saw me with it. Seemed rather upset about it, but Chad was also there and told him to leave.”

“Whoever has it is the real murderer!” blurted out Billy; his beer belly jiggled as he jumped up and down.

“I hate to say it, Greg,” I said, “but I think Billy is correct; and we need to search the other rooms to find out who does have the ruby.”

“But these locks are different from your normal ones that take a key,” said Greg. “We need the pass key to get in.”

I slumped on the bed. He was right. Without a passkey, there was no way we could get into the other rooms. Also, how were we to make sure that no one was in there? Billy. I turned and looked at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“You can help us,” I told him.

“No!” Billy folded his arms, his gut poking out from underneath his shirt. “I’m not gonna.”

“But it will mean finding the real person who killed you,” I said. “Even you admitted that it couldn’t have been Chad.”

Billy opened his mouth and closed it again, incensed that I had reminded him of something he had said earlier.

“And you can also help by letting us know if the rooms are empty or not,” I told him.

“I don’t know if I should,” snapped Billy. “You haven’t been very nice to me.”

I clamped my mouth shut in an effort to avoid yelling at him. He’s the one who kept trying to hit Chad over the head with something in some misguided attempt to seek justice. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

“What?” said Billy, facing me. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said aloud.

“Apology accepted,” said Billy. He disappeared.

“So,” said Greg, “will he help us?”

“I think so.”

Pop! Billy appeared beside me with the passkey, which I’m sure Emily was racking her brains trying to figure out where it had disappeared to. “Let’s go,” said Billy, waving the passkey in front of me.

“Uh, Billy, maybe I should take that.” I reached for the key.

“Why?”

“I don’t think many people will take it too well if they see that thing floating by itself.”

“Oh.” He handed me the key.

“But, thank you,” I said to him and his face brightened.

We all slipped out of the room—Billy remained invisible—and went to the first two doors next to ours.

“We should split up,” said Greg. “We can search faster. Just keep your phone on.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

I wasn’t sure how many rooms would be empty, since it was late, but it seemed that most people chose to stay up, visiting the lounge or the patio area, unable to sleep after the night’s events.

Billy poked his head through a door. “No one.”

I swiped the passkey, unlocking the door, and Greg went inside. “Don’t take too long,” I told him.

He kissed me, promising that he would be careful.

Billy poked his head into the next room. “Clear.”

Once again, I swiped the passkey and went inside. Nothing unusual stood out to me as I looked at the organized room with the open suitcase in the corner, a few shirts poking out of it. That was the first place I searched, but all I found were socks, underwear, and a few phone chargers. The nightstand only obtained a Bible and some notepads with a pen that didn’t work. There was nothing concealed under the mattress. Satisfied that there was nothing of interest here, I left and found Greg and Billy waiting for me to open the next door.

Once Billy checked to make sure it was empty, I opened the door and Greg went in. Billy beat me to the next one and started jumping up and down in front of it. “It’s empty!” he exclaimed.

Smiling at how much of a thrill he was getting out of all of this, I opened the door and went in. What a mess! It almost put Billy’s apartment to shame. Towels were strewn all over the bathroom floor, and the bed had not been made at all; or if had, the residents had messed it up again. Jeans, sweaters, and a frilly top were anywhere, but in the dresser or closet.

My foot snagged on something. Looking down to see what I had gotten tangled up in, I realized that my foot had found a yellow thong which had, somehow, gotten tangled up in the bed post and a chair leg, forming a snare, perfect for tripping someone. I freed my foot, not wanting to know what went on in this room. Unfortunately, I was about to find out.

Laughter spilled down the hallway, coming closer to the door. Realizing I was about to get caught, I snuck into the only hiding place I could find: the closet. I had shut the door to it just as a man and a woman ran in, their lips locked and their hands working at a furious pace to remove the other’s clothing. In an effort to remain hidden, I scrunched against the wall, but the heel of my boot scrapped against the bottom edge of the ironing board that was in there.

“What was that?” asked one of them.

“Nothing,” said the other.

I peeked through the small opening of the door. They had moved closer to the bed, but there was no way I could make a mad dash to the door without being seen. My phone buzzed. Greg had sent me a text.

Where are you?

Trapped in a closet
, I texted back.
Help!

You okay?
came another text.

About to get a peep show. Get me out of here!
I replied.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Who was that?” asked the woman, pulling up her bra.

The man went and opened the door, but no one was there, telling me exactly who had knocked on it. He shut the door and went back to his girlfriend. “It was no one.”

A loud bang rattled the door; so loud, that it made me jump, almost giving away my position.

Annoyed, the man went back to the door and yanked it open. “Hey, why don’t you…” He stopped speaking when he realized that no one was there.

“Uh, honey,” said the woman, “what’s going on?”

“There’s no one there.”

Before the man could go back to his girlfriend, Billy’s obnoxious voice filled the room. “GET OUT OF HERE YOU IDIOTS!”

There was no telling them twice. Each snatched their clothing and bolted through the door, not caring if they were half-naked. I rubbed my forehead. On the one hand, I had just been saved from being discovered in the closet of someone else’s room; on the other hand, a rumor would now spring up about how Emily’s place was haunted. Not sure if such a thing would be good for business: two murders and now a ghost screaming at guests.

I crawled out of the closet. “Thanks,” I said to Billy. I wasn’t about to scold him for what he did, as he did save my bacon. “Let’s get out of here before they come back.”

“Something tells me they won’t,” said Billy.

Probably not, I thought to myself, I know I wouldn’t.

Greg came up to me the moment I left the room. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I said. “What happened?”

“I asked Billy if he would help you,” said Greg. “I didn’t know if he was close enough to hear me, but thought it was worth a shot.”

“That was kind of fun,” said Billy to me. “Can I do it again?”

“No,” I said to Billy, and then mimed to Greg that I was talking to the ghost, not him.

“Why is it he acts like I’m not around?” said Billy, pointing at Greg.

“Because he doesn’t know you’re here,” I replied. “You could make yourself visible.”

“Oh.”

We searched the remaining rooms, but found no sign of the ruby, or anything that would tie someone to Billy’s, or Matherson’s, murder. Exhausted, Greg and I decided to just go to bed, since most of the guests had trickled up the stairs, deciding to do the same thing.

I didn’t know what else to do and hoped that the next morning would bring new insight into the case.

Chapter 9

Two in the morning. No matter how much I tried, I was not able to get to sleep. I managed about two hours, but now lay wide awake, staring at the dimpled ceiling, wondering if I would ever get any sleep. I looked at the clock. It was now two minutes past.

Unable to get back to sleep, I sat up and rubbed my face, while listening to Greg’s even breathing as he slept. A closing door caught my attention. It wasn’t the fact that the door had closed that alerted me to its presence, but the fact that the one closing it had tried to do so in a manner that would not attract anyone’s notice. Most people just allowed their doors to slam shut, but this person was trying to not make any noise, except that I heard the distinct click of the latch.

Curious as to who would be going out at this hour, I got out of bed—Greg shifted, but never opened his eyes—and went to the door, opening it a crack to peek out. All I saw was the back of a woman in a white sweatshirt and knit hat pulled past the tips of her ears. Where could she be going? The kitchen in the resort and the restaurant were closed. Most of the staff had gone home, except for the person who manned the front desk, meaning that the massage parlor, sauna, and lounge were also shut up tight. Everything in town would be closed as well.

Another scuffle sounded down the hall, forcing the woman to pause before hurrying down the steps, again trying to make no noise. Letting my curiosity dictate my movements, I slipped on my boots and coat, snatched my keycard, and left the room. I tiptoed down the hall, grateful that there was a rug to muffle the sounds of my feet.

I reached the edge of the stairs and looked down just in time to see a speck of white disappear. Not wanting to lose her, I hurried down the stairs and out the door, diving behind a pillar to avoid detection. The woman had paused to text someone. I craned my neck for a better look. If only I could see her face. My foot slipped and plopped on the solid ground, making a sudden noise that echoed. The woman whipped around just as I managed to hide. I cursed at my lack of stealth, but it had allowed me see the woman’s face: Aimie.

What was she doing? And where was Patrick? Aimie looked at her phone, reading another text and replied, before taking off down the walk and heading for the hiking trail that led to the local town. I followed. I couldn’t think of a reason for her to be out here in the middle of the night.

I kept my distance as I walked after her. She never looked behind. Her phone beeped and she looked at it. A frown formed on her face. Something had upset her. She fired off another text and rammed her phone into her pocket, continuing her trek through the small wooded area.

I maintained my pace and distance from her. She wasn’t acting like the Aimie I had spoken with hours earlier. The farther away we got from the resort, the more I wished that I had remembered to wake Greg. I reached in my coat pocket for my phone. Nothing. In my haste, I had forgotten to grab it.

“Billy,” I whispered, not sure if he would show up when called, or if he could even hear me. “Billy?”

No response. I hadn’t expected there to be any, but it was worth a try. The clear, moonless night made it difficult for me to keep Aimie within sight, despite the white jacket she wore. I had thought about turning around and going back, torn between learning what Aimie was up to and wanting to get back to Greg. I settled on returning to the resort. My curiosity would have to wait for another time.

Just as I turned around, my foot found a patch of ice and I slipped, landing hard on the ground. My fall had alerted Aimie to my presence. She whirled around, holding something in her gloved hand, and yelled, “Who’s there?”

I didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re there! Come closer.”

Unable to pretend that I wasn’t sitting on my bruised bottom in the middle of snow and ice, I stood up and walked towards Aimie.

“Mel?” she said, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I heard you leave your room.”

“And you followed me?”

“It seemed odd that you would be sneaking out in the middle of the night, alone.” I spotted the gun in her hand and finally put it together. All of her friendliness and open invitations were just an act. “Why did you kill Billy?” I asked her.

“Billy?”

“The janitor?”

Aimie seemed shocked that I even knew. “How did you know?”

“You just told me,” I replied.

“I never meant… he just… he caught Patrick and I snooping through the lockers. I grabbed the first thing I could find and hit him over the head. I only meant to knock him out. He wasn’t supposed to die!”

“And Matherson? Were you and Patrick his accomplices during that New York heist when the ruby went missing?”

“How did you… she began. “I should have known. Patrick said he saw you snooping around.”

“Why kill him, Aimie?”

“Patrick said it was an accident,” replied Aimie. Her phone beeped, but she ignored it. “Matherson recognized us the moment we ran into you at the restaurant. We had helped him steal that ruby and he had promised to split the profits from selling it with us, but then he disappeared with it. We have spent the last two years trying to track him down. During our search, we learned that he had changed his face and spent his days working at some getaway place on the east coast. So, Patrick and I have been visiting every resort in an effort to find him.”