by Bell, Cindy
"Yes it is," Vicky said firmly. She couldn't even imagine putting her aunt on the couch. "I'll feel better knowing that I'm closer to the door in case anyone tries to get in," Vicky added, her voice breaking slightly with the fear that was randomly bubbling up within her.
"Good night," Aunt Ida kissed her gently on the forehead. Vicky smiled a little at the affectionate caress. It meant so much to her to still have that from someone. Without Aunt Ida she was sure that she and Sarah would not have been able to recover from their parents' deaths so easily. As she watched her aunt head off into the bedroom she was reminded of what an amazing woman she was. There was no doubt in her mind that she really did have a black belt, and that she wasn't afraid to use it. Though Aunt Ida had never married or had children of her own, her life seemed to be very full with stories of places and people that she would never forget.
As Vicky curled up on the couch she tried to think of those memories that Aunt Ida had shared with her instead of the terror she had felt today when she heard that closet door swing open. She hadn't admitted it to anyone, but she was scared that the man would come back. Would he decide that he needed to finish the job? Her fear was all the more reason to continue to pursue the investigation with her aunt. If she had to wait on the police to capture the suspect she might not live to see it.
As she drifted off to sleep her mind was filled with a mixture of all of Aunt Ida's adventures and that shadowy figure striking her from behind. Her dream was all about a snake that was chasing after a man carrying a blade. The snake never seemed to be able to catch up, and the blade glimmered in the sun. Vicky was terrified in the dream. She was certain that the snake was about to turn around and attack her. But no matter how afraid she was, she kept chasing after the snake!
***
She woke the next morning with a start. Her heart was pounding. She thought that she had heard that closet squeak again. She sat up on the couch and looked at the front door. It was still closed and locked.
"Aunt Ida?" she called out. Aunt Ida poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled.
"Just getting some coffee on," she called out cheerfully. Vicky sighed in relief as she was sure that the sound she had heard was the cabinets in the kitchen, not someone breaking into her apartment. She hurried to get dressed for the day, eager to see what they might be able to discover in the garden. As they shared their coffee over Vicky's small kitchen table she was reminded of the delicious brew that Henry made for the guests at the inn.
"You know, I probably should talk to Henry," she said thoughtfully. "He may think that we suspect him, like the police did. I just want to make sure that he understands he has our support. I mean this has been frightening for him too, his entire room was turned upside down."
"That's true," Aunt Ida agreed. "I'll start looking in the garden, and you go off and talk to Henry, then meet me there," she smiled in anticipation of the search.
"Are you sure you'll be okay alone?" Vicky said hesitantly.
"Remember," Aunt Ida started to say.
"Right, black belt," Vicky laughed and shook her head. She was relieved that she didn't feel any pain when she did. As she stood up from the table she leaned over to give her aunt a light kiss on the forehead. “Just remember, if you see anything strange, or notice anyone suspicious, come find me or call Mitchell!”
Then she headed out to find Henry. He was staying on the second floor in one of the empty guest rooms. When she knocked on his door, he answered it right away.
“Hi Henry,” she said with a small smile. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“Thanks,” Henry said with a sigh.
“I'm sorry that the police questioned you so much,” Vicky explained quickly. “I just wanted you to know that I told Mitchell there was no way you would have been involved.”
“I appreciate that,” Henry said with a sigh of relief. “It's all right now, I just had a call from one of the officers to let me know that the surveillance cameras proved my alibi. At least I won't be a suspect anymore.”
“Oh that's good,” Vicky said with a wider smile. “Please, if you need anything, just let me know, okay?”
“Thanks Vicky,” he said with genuine gratitude. “I think I'm just going to get a little more rest.”
“Okay,” she waved lightly to him as he stepped back inside the room and closed the door. As she walked down the hallway on the second floor, a conversation drew her attention. One of the guest room doors was slightly ajar and she paused beside it, listening to the voice inside.
"I couldn't find it," the voice was saying. She recognized it as belonging to Timothy, the man who had checked in just the day before the murder happened. He had a very distinctive quality to his voice, almost an accent but she couldn't quite place it. He had been ruled out as a suspect because he was seen at the inn lounge until well past one in the morning, but now it sounded like he was admitting to being the person who had ransacked the shed, Bob and Henry's rooms. "I looked everywhere. I even looked in another room in case I had the wrong one, but it wasn't there. Now the police are all over it." It sounded like there was someone else in the room with him, but the voice was too distant for her to hear clearly. It was just a mumble, she couldn't make out any of the words.
Vicky was leaning closer when she saw the knob on the door start to move and knew that soon Timothy would be in the hallway. If he caught her listening in then he might decide to do her harm again, if he was indeed the killer that meant he was also the same person who had attacked her. She ducked into the empty guest room beside his, and waited until she heard the door next door click shut. He hadn't been walking out, but must have just discovered that the door was still open. Her heart was racing as she wondered how this could be possible.
How had it been Timothy who searched the rooms if he had an alibi for the night of the murder? Who had he been talking to in the room? Was it possible that there was more than one killer staying at the inn? She waited until she was certain it was safe and then hurried down to the garden to meet Aunt Ida.
***
Aunt Ida was closely inspecting the soil in the garden, just in case the police had overlooked footprints or any discarded evidence. When she heard Vicky running towards her she looked up swiftly, ready to defend herself against a killer. Her face fell with relief when she saw that it was Vicky.
"Are you okay?" Aunt Ida called out with concern when she saw Vicky's fast approach and her wide fear filled eyes.
"I think so," Vicky said breathlessly as she came to a stop beside her aunt. "But I just overheard something very strange."
"What was it?" Ida asked, obviously intrigued.
"It was that new guest Timothy. He said that he had searched both rooms but he couldn't find it. It sounded like he was talking to someone else in the room,” her mind was spinning as she tried to recover from how fast she was running.
"That is strange," Aunt Ida agreed quietly, her brain was working overtime trying to piece together the clues. "Maybe this whole time we have been thinking too small. Maybe the killer has an accomplice."
"You mean you think there are two criminals on the property?" Vicky nodded and then glanced over her shoulder at the inn behind her. "That's what I was thinking too. We've got to stop this before it gets any worse. If they haven't found what they're looking for, then they're not going to be going anywhere."
"That's why we have to find it first," Aunt Ida pointed out with a slight smile, as if she had found the perfect solution.
"If they couldn't find it, how could we?" Vicky asked with surprise and a bit of trepidation. She didn't like being so close to the man who had attacked her.
"Because they don't know everything there is to know about this place," Aunt Ida pointed out with a smug smile. "Even the police wouldn't have known everything. I bet if the two of us go search Bob's room we'll find something that both the killer and the police overlooked. Let's give it a shot!"
"All right," Vicky agreed, it was true that she had just about ev
ery square inch of the place memorized, including the staff's quarters. She would often spend time there with some of the staff, playing cards, or playing with their children. Still walking right back into danger made her a little uneasy. She held up the yellow tape for Aunt Ida. Aunt Ida stepped under, as deftly as a spy, and then ducked into Bob's room. Vicky followed quickly after, and wondered if she was making another mistake.
Vicky decided to call Mitchell as he had asked, and give him this new information that she had overheard. But when she dialed his number, it only rang several times and then went to voice mail. She didn't want to leave a message just in case she turned out to be wrong, after all Timothy could have been talking about something else entirely. Coincidences did happen. As she stepped into Bob's room after Aunt Ida, Vicky hoped that they would find something that could help them solve the case.
"What a mess," Ida was complaining. "How are we ever supposed to find anything in this?" she asked with a frown.
"Well, we need to think smart," Vicky said as she looked over the room. "Both the killer and the police searched through this room and come up empty handed. So it's not going to be hidden in an obvious spot."
"Think about it Vicky," Aunt Ida encouraged her. "Is there anything about this room that you know, that neither the killer nor the police would have the advantage of knowing?"
'Well," Vicky thought about it for a moment. "Not really. I gave Bob this room to stay in for free because he promised to fix the carpet in the corner that had been torn up when we moved some heavy furniture."
Aunt Ida grinned and snapped her fingers. "That's it!" she said quickly. "Where's the torn up corner?"
Vicky walked over to it, and tugged up the corner. "Bob said he would fix it, but he never did," Vicky said quietly. "I figured it was because he was just too lazy to do it, but maybe it was for another reason," she folded the carpet back, and tucked beneath the edge of it was a small golden key. She plucked it up off the floorboards and held it up for Aunt Ida to see.
"Here it is!" she said with amazement.
"But what is it for?" Aunt Ida asked feeling very confused. "It's just a key. Why would there be all the fuss over a key?"
Before Vicky could answer they heard footsteps on the walkway outside leading up to the door of Bob's room. Vicky's eyes widened, and Aunt Ida held her breath. In mere seconds the killer would discover them in the room. Vicky quickly tucked the key into her bra for safe keeping. Then she grabbed Aunt Ida's hand and led her through the small kitchen in the room, to the back door. As quietly as she could she eased the door open. They slipped out the back door, just in time to hear the front door swing forcibly open.
"He's not going to find it now," Vicky whispered as she and Ida hurried away from the building. "But that's only going to make him angrier. We have to figure out what this key is for before anyone else gets hurt."
Chapter Four
They made their way back into the inn and into Vicky's apartment. Once the door was closed and locked they both looked at each other with fear filled eyes.
"That was close," Aunt Ida breathed.
"Too close," Vicky pointed out, her heart racing so fast that she thought she might pass out. "I've got to sit down," she said as she sank down onto the couch. Her head was still swimming, probably because of the large knot that had formed.
"Do you think it was Timothy?" Aunt Ida asked as she settled down next to Vicky.
"It has to be," Vicky frowned as she tried to get her dizziness to subside. "He almost caught us. If he saw us, then he'll know we're on to him."
"We can't let him know," Aunt Ida insisted. "Do you still have the key? It didn't fall out did it?"
"No it didn't fall out," Vicky replied as she fished the key out of her bra. She held it up in the light so they could take a closer look at it. It was an odd size for a key. It didn't look large enough to open a door.
"I'm going to call Mitchell," Vicky said firmly. "This has got a little out of hand, and I promised him I would call."
"All right," Aunt Ida nodded though she looked a little disappointed. She seemed to really be enjoying the adventure she was having. But then she wasn't the one who had been hit over the head and knocked out. When Vicky dialed Mitchell's phone number, once again it rang and rang and then went to voice mail. Vicky frowned as she checked the number to make sure that it was correct.
"What could he be doing?" she wondered. Just for an instant she considered that maybe he had only told her to call him out of courtesy. Maybe he didn't really want to have to speak to her.
***
"Please sir, this is the second time she's called," Mitchell begged as he looked across the desk at his boss. The sheriff only shook his head and leveled his damning gaze on Mitchell.
"No we don't have time for you to make goo goo eyes with Ms. Braydon," he said gruffly. "We need to figure out who this killer is. I won't have him running loose through my city."
"Well, we've ruled out the chef Henry, and Bob's brother Larry, he was out of town at the time of the crime," he frowned as he looked back down at his phone. He hated ignoring Vicky's calls, but the sheriff had noticed their little hand holding session earlier in the day and had put his foot down about personal calls. "Really sir, I told Vicky to call me if she ran into any trouble, please can I just check in with her?" he pleaded.
"What kind of trouble do you think she ran into?" the sheriff asked with a smile. "Another ghost tattoo?"
"I'm sure she wasn't lying about that," Mitchell argued. He was really starting to lose his temper with the way the sheriff was talking about Vicky. He didn't like it when he disrespected her.
"I didn't say she was lying son," the sheriff corrected him in a fatherly tone. "I said she was mistaken. Nobody takes a whack like that on the noggin and gets up thinking straight. What are the chances that the killer has the same tattoo as Bob? What were they both part of the same secret club or something?" he chuckled as he shook his head.
Mitchell sighed as he looked back down at his phone. He could only hope that Vicky wasn't in any real trouble.
***
"I guess we're on our own," Vicky shrugged, feeling perplexed. She couldn't understand why Mitchell would tell her to call if he didn't intend to answer the phone.
"That's all right," Aunt Ida insisted with a purr in her tone. "We can handle this all by ourselves. All we need to do is figure out what this key opens."
Vicky studied it intently. She could tell by its size and shape that it opened a small lock.
"I know!" Vicky suddenly said as she jumped up from the couch. "Maybe it goes to one of the safety deposit boxes that we keep in the inn's safe. We offer it to our guests as a way to store their valuables. I didn't think that Bob had one, but this looks to be about the right size.
"Well, let's go check it out!" Aunt Ida insisted. They headed for the back office behind the front desk of the lobby where the safe was kept. Sarah had chosen to stay home for the day since they had very few guests remaining. Vicky knew it was likely because Phil had insisted he didn't want her anywhere near a murderer who might still be at large. They checked carefully for any sign of Timothy before they stepped out into the lobby.
"Look, there he goes!" Vicky pointed out the front window of the lobby. Timothy was striding quickly towards his car. Vicky couldn't help but wonder where he was going, but she was glad that he was leaving.
"Good riddance, maybe he won't come back," Aunt Ida said with a huff. "Even if he is handsome, that doesn't excuse him from being a maniac,” she said sternly.
"I wouldn't think so," Vicky said trying to hide a smile at her Aunt's dramatic statement. They hurried into the office and closed the door behind them. Vicky knew the code to the safe so she unlocked it. When she opened the door of the safe she found the safety deposit boxes right where she expected them to be. It didn't look as if they had been disturbed in any way. She tried to slide the key into the lock on the first one, but it wouldn't go in.
"It doesn't fit," she said with
a sigh of disappointment. “It must not open these.”
"What else could it open?" Aunt Ida asked as she took the key and looked it over closely. There were no numbers or initials on it to indicate what it might open. Vicky carefully locked the safe back up, and then turned to look at the key as well.
"It could be for a storage locker somewhere," Vicky pointed out with a frown. “But it doesn't really look like a locker key.”
"Oh I know, maybe it goes to a treasure chest," Aunt Ida suggested with a gleam in her eye.
"You mean like a real treasure chest?" Vicky asked with a slight chuckle. "What would Bob be doing with a key to a treasure chest?" then suddenly she remembered what Mitchell had said about Bob just being released from jail for armed robbery. If the money was never recovered he might have hidden it somewhere. That would explain why such dangerous people were after it. "Oh maybe he had the money stashed somewhere for when he got out!" Vicky said with amazement as the pieces began to fit together. "If he did then he might have tried to hide it in a treasure chest, he might have even buried it!"
Aunt Ida smiled triumphantly. She loved the fact that Vicky could follow along with her ideas.
“So if it is a treasure chest, and it is buried, where is it buried?” Aunt Ida wondered with a frown. “If he went to this much trouble to hide it, then he probably did a good job of burying it. But this property is so huge, we may never be able to find it,” she sighed with disappointment. It was not like Aunt Ida to give up on anything, but this task seemed particularly impossible.
Vicky was lost in thought for a moment. She was trying to remember if she had ever noticed Bob digging anywhere in the short time that he had worked there. The truth was it could be buried anywhere, even off the property. But Vicky had a hunch that Bob would have done anything to keep the spoils from his robbery close to him. He would have wanted to keep an eye on it. He probably knew the whole time that there were criminals searching for it.