Deadly Getaway

by Laura Bradford

  “Oh, my God, what now?” Elise sprinted across the room with Mitch at her heels, yanked open the door to the hallway.

  “Fire! Fire!”

  A woman in her mid-sixties was running down the hall toward the staircase, screaming the same word over and over.

  Elise inhaled deeply, sniffed the air for any indication of smoke. But there was none.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” Elise said as she jogged down the kerosene-lit hallway. “Where’s the fire?”

  The woman grabbed hold of Elise’s arm, her eyes filled with fear. “The building. Down the road. It’s on fire.” She pointed toward her open doorway on the other side of the hallway. “Go look.”

  Elise followed behind Mitch as he ran into the woman’s room and stopped just inside the doorway. A bright orange glow lit the corner of the hotel room closest to the window. Flames shot toward the sky, illuminating the night. And even though she didn’t know the island well, there was no doubt which building was on fire.

  “Oh, dear God, it’s Merlin’s place!”

  11:50 p.m.

  Elise stared at the water-soaked shell as it smoldered in the darkness, swallowed around the sooty film that filled her throat.

  The whole thing felt surreal. A nightmare on top of a nightmare. Only she wasn’t dreaming.

  She pulled Jonathan’s parka tightly around her chest, grateful for his generosity. Neither she nor Mitch had thought of anything other than the fire as they ran out of the hotel and into the cold night air.

  But now, standing here, it seemed ludicrous to think they could have done anything to help. Half of the building was engulfed in flames when they reached it, the heat of the fire enough to warm their frigid bodies. Until now.

  She strained to see Mitch or Brad’s outline against the lingering smoke. It drove her crazy thinking they were walking around in the smoldering building, searching.

  Elise swiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. What she wouldn’t give to have Merlin tap her on the shoulder right now. But as each second passed, the likelihood of that happening grew smaller and smaller.

  “You okay, Elise?”

  “I can’t believe he’s gone, Jonathan. We were just with him this afternoon.” Her voice trailed off as she looked at the building. What was left of it anyway.

  “I know.”

  “I got a little nervous that first day. The way he had all those candles so close to the paper stacks. But I didn’t want to offend him by commenting on it.” She closed her eyes and continued. “What an idiot I am.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Elise. When an accelerant is used, it doesn’t matter whether you’ve got a candle burning or stacks of paper covering every square inch. All you need is a single match to make it go.”

  The enormity of his words washed over her like ice water. “Someone did this to him?”

  Jonathan nodded, his eyes unreadable. “Yep.”

  “But how do you know that?”

  “We found an empty gas can and a lighter in the back.”

  “But who would want to—”

  She stopped, stared at the lingering smoke. She really didn’t need to finish the question. They both knew that. The answer was simple.

  Instead, she forced her mouth to form another useless question.

  “But why?”

  Jonathan stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked toward the rising smoke. “My guess? We got too close to the truth today with that article you found.”

  “And Merlin?” Elise asked.

  “He was expendable.”

  Jonathan’s words hovered in the air, their meaning pressing down on them with an intensity she couldn’t deny. It was all so sad. So incredibly sad.

  She closed her eyes, felt Jonathan’s hands gently rubbing her shoulders. His quiet understanding was exactly what she needed.

  A snap of wood made them both jump and she squinted into the remains of the building. Mitch’s tall, muscular form came into sight, Brad’s stockier outline just a few steps behind.

  “We found him. He was in his bed.”

  Monday, January 31

  Chapter Twenty-three

  3:00 a.m.

  No matter how many times they verbally walked through Merlin’s office building, Mitch still couldn’t shake the feeling that they had missed something. Something big.

  “There’s gotta be something in that building that’ll point to the killer, something he left behind, something he didn’t cover well enough.” Mitch stretched his arms above his head and yawned. His body ached all over from holding the heavy fire hose, yet his mind refused to shut down for the night. The killer was becoming increasingly more desperate and that could only mean one thing. The guy was about to get sloppy. And when he did, Mitch would be waiting.

  “Shit, Mitch, what could we have missed? There’s nothing left except scorched lumber and a boatload of ashes.” Brad leaned his head against the wall, his eyes drooped. “And if I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m gonna be useless.”

  Mitch made eye contact with Jonathan from across the room, recognized the smirk on the retired cop’s face.

  Gonna be useless?

  “Maybe tomorrow, when it’s light out, you’ll find something.”

  Mitch turned and looked at Elise. She seemed so tired, so sad, her voice barely audible. She was taking Merlin’s death hard.

  He crossed the room and took her hand in his.

  “You okay, hon?”

  “I will be.”

  He hated to see the tears that welled in her eyes, hated the fact that she’d grown so fond of Merlin only to have him fall prey to a psychopath.

  “I’m gonna catch this guy, Elise.”

  She squeezed his hand gently, her trembling voice a near whisper. “I know you will, Mitch. I’m just worried about—”

  He saw the pain in her face as her voice faltered and trailed off. Something was weighing on her. He’d felt it since the afternoon they arrived.

  “Worried about what?”

  She touched his face, her soft hand sending a jolt through his body.

  “Worried about you. Me. Everyone.”

  He pulled her close. “We’re getting closer. I can feel it.”

  “I agree.” Jonathan pushed off Mitch’s bed and stood. “I think Elise and I got too close for comfort with that magazine article. And I’d bet good money that we were close to finding a picture he didn’t want us to find.”

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.” Mitch rubbed Elise’s arm as he continued. “He set that fire out of desperation. And desperate people make mistakes.”

  He studied Jonathan’s face in the firelight, saw the set to his jaw, the tension in his stance. It was a welcomed look Mitch recognized all too well. It was the look of determination. A look he’d pay good money to get from Brad.

  Mitch swung his gaze onto his college buddy, felt the quick ripple of anger course through his body as he realized Brad was asleep.

  So much for unified determination.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  10:00 a.m.

  “Come in. Come in. You’ve all had such a long night.”

  Mitch peered over Elise’s head and managed a smile.

  “Morning, Sophie.”

  The woman pulled a cloth from her pocket and quickly wiped the already gleaming table that had become “theirs” over the past few days. “You poor things, you look like you’ve had no sleep.”

  Mitch pulled Elise’s chair out, waited for her to sit. “I think we got a few hours, right, guys?”

  “Yeah, probably about four or so.” Jonathan unzipped his parka and draped it over the back of his chair.

  “Maybe you got four, man, but I slept like crap on Mitch’s damn floor.”

  Elise reached out and patted Sophie’s hand. “We did fine. Really.”

  Mitch studied Elise’s drawn face, saw the exhaustion in her eyes yet marveled at the way she seemed to stay so cheerful to those around her. It was one of the many things he’d gr
own to love over the past seven months.

  “So what’ll it be, everyone?”

  Mitch sat back in his chair, listened as Jonathan and Brad took turns ordering everything from coffee and eggs to oatmeal and hot tea. Anything that could possibly appear on the table warm, compliments of Sophie’s propane stove. When it was Elise’s turn, her quiet voice made his heart ache for the trip they’d envisioned.

  “How about you, Mitch?”

  He didn’t know how he was going to swing it, but he was gonna save every penny he could once they got back to Jersey—just so he could take her on a real vacation. Sans serial killers, of course.

  “Mitch?”

  “What? Oh, sorry, Sophie. I’ll just take some coffee.”

  “Comin’ right up.” Sophie turned and headed toward the kitchen, stopped just before the swinging door that separated the dining area from the back room where she cooked. “Oh, and Mitch? Your friend, the redhead? He was looking for you a little while ago. Said he had something important to show you.”

  “Mark?”

  “Yeah, that’s him. He was real agitated. Not that I can blame him with the way that one skier is always following him. I tell you, that one is bad news.”

  “Who?”

  Sophie pointed to the picture of the orienteering group, her finger coming to rest on a short squatty guy hamming it up in the front row.

  “Josh Cummings? Why do you say he’s bad news?” Mitch asked.

  “Well, maybe bad news is a little harsh. But my gut says he’s slimy.”

  Mitch nodded as he looked at the picture. “Do you know what it was that Mark wanted to show me?”

  “Nope. We got sidetracked on the fire. He was upset that he hadn’t heard about it.”

  Mitch straightened in his chair. “Why was he upset about that?”

  “He’s a firefighter. He said he could have helped.”

  “That’s right. I forgot about that. He would know a lot about fires then, wouldn’t he?”

  Mitch didn’t wait for a response to his question. He pushed his chair back and stood, placed a hand on Brad’s shoulder.

  “C’mon, Brad, we gotta go find Mark. See what he wants once and for all.”

  “But my coffee. My eggs.”

  “You’ll survive, Brad.” Mitch grabbed his coat. “Elise, are you okay staying here with Jonathan and Sophie?”

  “Yes. Now go find Mark.”

  ~ ~ ~

  She looked across the table at Sophie’s gently lined face, saw the concerned eyes that studied her in return.

  “And Merlin? He’s really gone?”

  Elise nodded slowly.

  She was grateful when Jonathan finally took control of the conversation, providing the details that were simply too painful to relate.

  “Mitch and Brad found his body. He was in his bed when the fire happened. They think he probably died from inhalation.”

  Sophie made a soft tsking sound under her breath as she fiddled with the handkerchief in her hand. “It’s just so hard to fathom, his being gone. Merlin’s been a staple on this island for as long as I’ve been here. Nearly twenty years, I’d say. He always said the island was the best of both worlds—a chance to tell the news and a place to escape family.”

  “Escape family?” Jonathan took a sip of his coffee, then set the mug down on the table. “That’s a rather odd thing to say.”

  “I thought so too,” Sophie said. “But I never pressed. I always found it strange how much he liked to report the news, yet how reticent he was to talk about himself.”

  “That’s par for the course with most writers. They like to write, not talk,” Elise said quietly. “He was a true newsman—always asking me questions. And the way he went after you, Jonathan, when we told him you were a cop. Wow.”

  Jonathan chuckled.

  “You’re a police officer too, Jonathan?”

  Surprised, Elise looked at the woman. “You didn’t know that, Sophie?”

  “No.”

  Jonathan straightened in his chair. “I guess we’ve tried to keep that fact quiet so I might be privy to things I might not otherwise hear.”

  Elise saw the corners of Sophie’s mouth tug upward, her eyes sparkle momentarily.

  “The Lord has been watching out for us this week. How else could you explain your presence.” Sophie brushed a piece of hair from her forehead and leaned back in her seat. “To have four police officers at a time like this is nothing short of a blessing.”

  “Three police officers,” Elise gently corrected as she slid her hand between her mug and its handle.

  The woman’s brows furrowed in confusion.

  “No, four. Mitch, Brad, Jonathan, and your other friend.”

  Elise pushed her mug aside. It worried her to see the woman so distracted, confused. “There isn’t any other friend. Mitch and I are here by ourselves.”

  Sophie slid her hand out from under Elise’s and raised it to her head, moved her fingers in a small massaging motion at her temple. “Didn’t you have someone with you that first night at dinner?”

  “No. Just us. As a matter of fact, Mitch and I were the only ones in the restaurant that first night. No, wait, that’s not quite right either. There was that one lone soul who came in looking as if he’d been out in the cold for hours.”

  “I guess you’d know better than I if you’d been sitting with someone else that night.” Sophie closed her eyes momentarily. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as scatterbrained as I have this week. I guess it’s just stress.”

  Jonathan shoveled his spoon around the bowl in an attempt to get every last drop of oatmeal. “Stress’ll do that to you.”

  Elise nodded and leaned back in her seat.

  “Did you ever come across that picture of Mark, Sophie?”

  “No. But I know I took one.” She peered at Elise from behind her glasses. “But there’s another picture I’d like you to see.”

  “Oh?”

  “Wait right here.”

  Sophie rose from her chair and headed toward the counter in the far right corner of the restaurant.

  “I wonder how Mitch and Brad are faring with our pal Mark,” Jonathan said.

  Elise shrugged. “I can’t figure out what he’s so anxious to show Mitch.”

  “I can’t figure that one out either.” Jonathan took a last sip of coffee and then pushed his empty mug into the middle of the table.

  Elise felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. Sophie stood behind her, a photograph clutched in her right hand.

  “Oh, Sophie, how’d you develop our picture in this storm? You’ve got way too much to be worrying about right now.”

  Sophie gently stroked Elise’s hair. “This isn’t your picture from the other night. That’s still sitting in the roll on top of the counter.”

  “Then what is that?”

  Sophie eased herself into the chair beside Elise. “I started the picture wall fifteen years ago. Have taken a picture of every person or group that’s been in here since then.”

  Curious, Elise watched as Sophie continued to grasp the photograph in her right hand, quietly clenching and unclenching her left.

  “I know. You told us that the first night. It’s a wonderful idea—”

  “And once a picture’s up, it stays up,” Sophie said quickly.

  “You said that too, though I don’t know how you can fit fifteen years’ worth of photographs on these walls.” Elise scanned the restaurant quickly, then brought her gaze back to rest on Sophie.

  “Well, they might not always be on the walls—but I always have them out somewhere.”

  “Okay.”

  Sophie slowly turned the photograph over and placed it on the table in front of Elise.

  Elise looked down at the image, felt her stomach drop as her eyes focused on the happy foursome peering back at her.

  11:00 a.m.

  Mitch stamped the snow from his boots as he walked across the entry foyer toward the registration desk. The Lakeside Inn looke
d very different in the morning light, less cozy. But maybe that’s because the last time he walked through the front door he had no idea that a woman had been strangled to death behind the same counter where Tom now stood. “Hey there, Tom, how ya holding up?”

  “If people didn’t care about things like warm water and electricity, it wouldn’t be so bad.” The young man ran a sleeve across his brow and continued. “But, since they do, it’s not exactly smooth sailing.”

  Brad snorted. “I can imagine. But hey, buddy, if you want to trade jobs for the next few weeks, I’m game.”

  Mitch looked quickly at the ceiling, tried not to dwell on the idea that a twenty-year-old hotel clerk would probably do a better job than Brad.

  “I’d love to do what you do, Brad. Too bad trading ain’t an option.”

  Too bad, indeed.

  “Can you tell me what room Mark Tallberg is staying in?” Mitch asked.

  “I’m not really supposed to give that information out. Unless there’s some police reason?” Tom looked at Mitch, excitement crackling behind his eyes.

  “I was told he’s been looking for me. Has something important to tell me. I mean, show me.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember that. He was muttering under his breath when he walked back in here about an hour ago. Complaining that you’re never where you’re supposed to be.”

  Mitch set his elbow on the countertop and leaned in toward Tom. “Well, I’m here now.”

  “Okay. I just hope it doesn’t get me fired.”

  “It won’t.”

  Mitch watched as Tom strode across the small office area and reached for the guest book they’d looked through just three days earlier.

  “I should know this guy’s room by heart. I put his prize money in the safe just like he asked, yet he still checks on it almost hourly.” Tom flipped the book open, ran his index finger down the page. “Here we go, room 312.”

  The clerk set the book down and pointed toward the stairs just beyond the hearth room. “Go up to the third floor. Mr. Tallberg’s room will be four doors down on the left.”