The Reunion

by Suzanne Rossi

  “And may I have the key you requested earlier? The one that doesn’t belong to you.”

  His voice was polite, but she sensed the disapproval.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ll get it when I’m moved. Just open the damned door.”

  This time he didn’t smile, but inserted the key and opened the door. Suzanne pushed past him into the pitch dark room.

  “Dammit to hell! Someone has been here. I left the light on. And what is that God-awful stench? ” She flipped the switch on the wall near the door. Nothing happened. “Shit! If I’ve been robbed, you’ll get your ass sued from here to Sunday.”

  “Please, Mrs. Crocker, don’t jump to conclusions.” He moved past her to the wall sconce next to the desk and twisted the knob. Light flooded the room. “I’m sure everything is…” He stopped with a gasp.

  Suzanne pushed him out of the way. Dave lay on the floor with something wrapped tightly around his neck. His blackened face and protruding tongue told her he would not be snorting any more cocaine—ever.

  Her legs went weak, her throat closed, and the room spun. Clenching her evening bag in clawed fingers, she clasped it to her chest, slowly backing from the room and across the hall until the wall stopped her.

  Then Suzanne found her voice and screamed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Do you think we’ve reached a dead end?” Zach asked Meghan.

  She shrugged. They still sat in the bar. “I don’t know. We have lots of suspects, a possible motive or motives, tons of opportunity, but not one eye witness.”

  His forehead furrowed. “Somehow, everything is connected—Tami, Eddie, Suzanne. Meghan, it has to date back to high school.”

  “If someone is killing off the Fearsome Foursome, then Dave Coryell would be on the list, too.”

  “And the sheriff can’t find him,” Zach said slowly.

  A little dart of fear zapped Meghan in the pit of her stomach. “Do you think something’s happened?”

  “Suppose Dave is the killer? Maybe he pitched his line of investment opportunities to Tami and Eddie and they refused, like Suzanne.”

  “So he kills them?”

  “For all we know, he’s certifiable.” He paused. “Or desperate.”

  Meghan licked her lips. “It’s just a theory. We have no proof. If Dave’s left the hotel, he may have done so because his plans for filling the financial coffers went belly up.”

  Ray Armstrong walked into the bar and pulled up a chair at their table. The sheriff looked tired. The lines on his face had deepened. He removed his hat to run his hands through his, gray-streaked hair.

  Meghan did some mental arithmetic. Ray had graduated from high school six or seven years before them, which put him in his mid-forties. The man looked older.

  “Anything new?” Zach inquired.

  He shook his head. “The last interview is over. The hotel staff can finally get in to clean the ballroom. We do know the stun gun has been wiped clean, and that the electrodes correspond to the burn marks on Annabelle Peterson’s neck.” He turned toward the bar. “Hey, Jack, can I get another cup of coffee?”

  “Yeah, sure, Sheriff. By the way, this is last call. Bar closes in thirty minutes.”

  Meghan picked up the stun gun again, turning it over in her hands. So small, yet an intricate part of the puzzle.

  The bartender brought the sheriff’s coffee. Ray added the cream and sugar, took a cautious sip, and made a face.

  “Lukewarm,” he muttered. He set the cup down. “I still haven’t found Dave Coryell.

  “Zach and I have a theory. Are you in a mood to hear it?”

  “I’m open to all suggestions at this point,” Ray replied.

  She gave him the details. The sheriff frowned. “That’s why I want to talk with Coryell. If he’s flown the coop, I need to put out a BOLO on him.”

  “Has anyone looked in the parking lot for his car?” Zach wondered.

  Ray nodded. “We have the make, model, and license plate number. One of my deputies is checking it out now.” His phone rang. “Armstrong here.” He listened for a few seconds, and then closed his eyes. “Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.” He snapped the phone shut and rose.

  “What’s wrong?” Zach said in a sharp voice.

  “Suzanne Crocker found Dave Coryell in her room. He’s dead…strangled.” He rushed from the bar.

  Meghan stared at Zach, her stomach turning and her ears buzzing. She gripped the edge of the table as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

  “God Almighty,” he exclaimed. Leaping to his feet, he ran after the sheriff.

  “Wait!” Meghan called. She rose slowly.

  Zach hurried back. He braced her with his arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  “Just a little lightheaded. Good Lord above, when is this going to stop?”

  He tipped her chin up with his fingers and kissed her. “I don’t know. Suzanne could be next.”

  Taking a deep breath, Meghan regained her equilibrium from both the dizziness and his kiss, and nodded. She pulled away, and then turned back to snatch Zach’s stun gun from the table. She dropped it into her evening bag and left the lounge.

  “Where’s Ray?” she asked.

  “Grabbed the first elevator for the fourth floor.

  They entered the lift. “What was Dave doing in Suzanne’s room?”

  “I have no idea,” Zach replied.

  The doors opened and they rushed to exit. Voices babbled from the hallway on their left. Rounding the corner, a throng of people, some in nightclothes, gathered. She and Zach pushed their way through the frightened guests.

  Ray emerged from Suzanne’s room.

  “Everybody, please go back into your rooms.” He turned toward Meghan and jerked his head down the hall. “See if you can help her. Zach, can you handle crowd control until the rest of my deputies get here? I want this hallway clear for official business.”

  “I’ll try.” He faced the crowd. “Come on, people, let’s do as the sheriff asks.”

  “What the hell’s going on around here?” a man in a bathrobe demanded. “Someone drowns in a goddamned fish pond, and I heard another guest was shot.”

  “Howard, I want to leave now!” a woman cried in a wavering voice. “I’m scared.”

  “Then your room is the safest place,” Zach insisted.

  Meghan didn’t wait to hear the rest. She gazed down the corridor. Suzanne knelt and sat on her heels, sobbing and hiccupping, while a man with a helpless expression watched. He looked up at her approach.

  Meghan had seen him in the lobby and the ballroom earlier. She crouched next to the hysterical woman and placed a hand on her shoulder. Suzanne flinched and yelped.

  “Suzanne, it’s Meghan.”

  Suzanne clutched her arms over her stomach and bent forward until her forehead touched the floor. Her tangled red hair fanned out on either side of her head. She clenched her evening bag in white knuckled fingers.

  “Who are you?” Meghan asked the man.

  “Mark Nelson, the night manager.”

  “Why don’t you see if you can help Mr. Dunbar and get these people back into their rooms? I’ll take care of Mrs. Crocker. Do you have a handkerchief?”

  The man nodded, fumbled in his pocket for the item, and ran down the hall.

  Meghan pulled Suzanne upright and wiped her cheeks.

  “Come on, Suzanne, get control of yourself. Here,” she said handing her the hankie. “Dry your eyes and blow your nose, then we’ll leave.”

  Suzanne hiccupped again, but made an effort to do as Meghan suggested, wiping her cheeks clean of the streaked mascara.

  “I w-w-want to go h-h-home,” the terrified woman stammered.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find you a safe place.”

  “D-D-D-Dave. All b-b-b-black.” The crying renewed.

  “Can you stand?” She pulled the stunned woman from her knees. Suzanne swayed, clutching at Meghan’s upper arms, and buried her face in Meghan
’s shoulder. Hot tears scorched her skin. She wrapped her arms around the shaky redhead. “It’ll be all right.”

  She glanced toward the scene of the crime. Most of the crowd had heeded Zach and returned to their rooms. The deputies had arrived and relieved Zach of his duties. He stood to one side. The manager was gone.

  “Are you ready to go? Most of the people have left.”

  Suzanne took a step and stumbled. Meghan slipped a steadying arm around her waist.

  “You can do it. We’ll take it slow.”

  They walked with hesitant steps down the hallway. The closer they got to the room, the louder the gasps from Suzanne. Zach intercepted them.

  “Do you need help?”

  “No, I think I can handle her.”

  Suzanne shuddered and gasped for air, mumbling between breaths.

  “I’ll take her to the bar before she faints. Maybe a brandy will help calm her. What about you?”

  “I’ll stay here for a while and see what they find.”

  Meghan nodded and steered the staggering, breathless Suzanne toward the elevators. The handkerchief remained clutched in her hand along with the purse.

  “Let’s get you a brandy, okay?” Meghan suggested. Anything to get the poor woman back under control.

  “Okay. M-maybe. I-I don’t know.”

  “I imagine just being away from your room helps, doesn’t it?”

  She kept her voice soft and sympathetic. It worked. Suzanne’s gait steadied and she’d ceased the horrible gasping even though she shook uncontrollably on the ride down. Heading for the bar, they passed the ballroom entrance when the door suddenly swung open. Suzanne shrieked and clutched at Meghan’s arm. Glory emerged carrying the memorial posters.

  “Glory, I thought you’d gone back upstairs,” a startled Meghan said, tightening her grip on Suzanne’s waist.

  “I thought about it, but I’m still too keyed up to sleep, so I decided I’d help with the clean-up.” She placed the easel and the boards outside the door and looked at the women for the first time. “Good grief, what’s wrong with Suzanne?”

  “Help me get her into the bar.”

  Glory’s arm joined Meghan’s supporting Suzanne. They entered the lounge, lowering her into a chair. The bar was closed, but Meghan walked behind it, poured a large snifter of Hennessey and returned to the table. She set it in front of Suzanne who tried to raise the glass, but failed. Her hands trembled so hard, the liquor sloshed almost to the rim.

  “Here, let me.” Meghan took the glass pressing the rim to the redhead’s lips.

  Suzanne didn’t sip. She gulped, and then gagged. A small rivulet of brandy trickled down her chin. Meghan daubed at it with a napkin.

  “What’s going on?” Glory asked. “Why is Suzanne in such a state?”

  “I’ve got bad news. Dave Coryell’s been murdered. Suzanne found his body in her room.”

  Glory gasped. Her eyes went wide, and she pressed shaking fingers to her lips. “The wicked flee when no man pursueth,” she muttered.

  Meghan looked at her with a sharp glance. “Proverbs.”

  Glory nodded. “This is just too horrible. What on earth is going on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Someone’s trying to frame me,” Suzanne muttered through chattering teeth. “I didn’t kill him. I swear it.”

  “No one thinks you did,” Meghan answered.

  The brandy had done its job. Suzanne raised the glass on her own this time and sipped. She still trembled, but appeared more in control.

  “I needed to talk to him. So, I went to his room, but he didn’t answer. I got scared because I thought someone was following me.”

  Meghan drew in a silent breath. “Following you? Where?”

  “In the hallway outside his room, and again in the parking lot when I searched his car. I thought I heard footsteps. Then I couldn’t find my key, so I went to the front desk to get another. When we opened the door, we found…” She gulped more brandy, pressed the handkerchief to her mouth, and let fresh tears run down her face. All the carefully applied make-up had washed away. Suzanne looked every bit her age.

  Meghan looked at Glory whose face was curiously blank. She stared straight ahead as though in a world of her own.

  “Glory?” She touched her arm. The blonde jumped. “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just taking it all in. I thought this reunion would be so special. I worked very hard. I tried to make things run smoothly. I know some people made fun of me, but I truly wanted them to feel welcome. I wanted to do the best job possible. Divine would have. It’s the kind of thing she would do.”

  Meghan stared in consternation, and then realized the woman was on the verge of shock. She snatched the snifter from Suzanne’s fingers and held it out to Glory.

  “You did a magnificent job. I felt very welcomed. I’m sure most people did. You can’t be responsible for the actions of a maniac. Here, have a sip of this.”

  Glory recoiled. “Oh, no, I couldn’t drink spirits.”

  “Just a sip. You’ll feel better,” she wheedled.

  The lanky blonde placed her lips on the rim and tilted the glass allowing the barest touch of liquor to make contact. She licked, shuddered, and made a face.

  “That’s awful.” She licked again. “How do you stand it?”

  “I’m not fond of brandy, but for some reason it calms the nerves.”

  Zach walked in and pulled out a chair. “Are you all right?” he asked Suzanne.

  She blew her nose and shook her head. “No, I’m not all right. I’m scared shitless. He was strangled, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah. The killer cut the cord from the lamp on the dresser, fashioned a slip knot, and placed a knee on his back for leverage.”

  Meghan inhaled sharply. “Just like with Annabelle. Was a stun gun used?”

  He nodded. “Got it right in the throat. A heavy dose, too. According to Ray, there are several sets of burn marks. He needed more than one round.”

  Meghan shivered. “Oh, God.

  They found Suzanne’s room key on the floor near the desk. Dave must have dropped it. Ray wants to talk to you, Suzanne, as soon as you’re able.”

  She nodded and drained the rest of the brandy.

  Zach rose and headed for the bar, then returned with a bottle, and three more glasses. He refilled Suzanne’s before pouring one for himself and Meghan. Glory pushed her glass away.

  “Nothing for me. I can’t listen to any more of this. Please forgive me. I…I need to check on…I mean I need Tom.” She rose and left the bar.

  “So both of my keys were missing,” Suzanne said. “Anyone can get a key. I did for Dave’s room.”

  “You have Dave’s room key?” Meghan asked.

  Suzanne explained her reasoning to them. “I don’t suppose the desk clerk remembers who wanted my key.”

  “Probably not. The killer must have obtained the second key and stolen yours. Did you leave your purse unattended at any time tonight?” Zach questioned.

  “Sure. Any time I went to the bar in the ballroom. So, how did Dave get a hold of my key?”

  “Good question,” Zach commented. “Maybe he’s the one who requested it. He could have been looking for you, too.”

  “I doubt it. He knew nothing was going to happen between us.”

  Meghan gnawed on a fingernail. “Any idea when he was killed?”

  “Ray says he’d been dead an hour, maybe a little more, but that’s a rough guess.”

  “God, what a mess.”

  Zach turned to Suzanne. “Tami, Eddie, and now Dave. Have the four of you had any contact since high school?”

  “Not much. By our junior year in college, Eddie had flunked out, Tami was stalking her first husband, and I have no idea what Dave was doing. My roommate’s family was rich, so I spent a lot of time with her.”

  “I guess that’s one way to get ahead in the world,” Meghan said, sipping her brandy.

  “God dammit, don’t
judge me. Money opens doors. I met people through Jennifer, people who counted. And don’t go thinking I didn’t work for my money. You try hosting a fundraiser for the Chicago Museum of Art and being the chairperson for God knows how many charities. It’s damned hard and time consuming.”

  “All right, all right, I’m sorry.”

  “Can we get back to the four of you?” Zach demanded. “Someone holds one hell of a grudge. Who would wait twenty years to kill you guys off?”

  Suzanne gulped a large portion of her liquor. “I don’t know. Maybe because they couldn’t find us until this reunion. My name changed, so had Tami’s—many times. And as a truck driver, I’m sure Eddie moved around a lot. But why?”

  “I haven’t got the answer to that. You must have done something to warrant all of this.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Dave was always pulling some kind of prank. He Super-glued the locks on the freshman lockers. We all helped. And he and Eddie got a hold of some kind of liniment and dumped it on their teammates’ jock straps. Burned like hell. Dave claimed he got that one from some movie.” She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. “I don’t know. We pulled a lot of pranks.”

  “What about Tami?” Meghan asked. “She could be damned vindictive. I heard Monica Evans was livid about things she’d said.”

  “Oh, the cheerleader business. Yeah, Tami was madder than hell. She wanted that head position real bad. She started the rumor Monica was a lesbian.”

  “Did Monica confront her?”

  “Not to my knowledge. Most people didn’t want to get on Tami’s bad side. Tami was a calculating, manipulative control freak. Dave thought up funny pranks. Tami served up revenge. She didn’t even have to have a good excuse. If she thought you’d wronged her in some way, look out.”

  “That sounds paranoid,” Meghan commented. “Was she?”

  Suzanne shrugged. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

  Zach frowned at the redhead. “Who’d she go after other than Monica?”

  “Hell, Zach, it’s been twenty years. Give me a break. I can’t remember everyone she got even with for supposedly slighting her.” She paused for a moment. “There was that girl in the drama club. She beat Tami out for the lead in the junior class play. I remember Tami cursing up a storm in the restroom. She threw the trash can clear across the room. Those things were made out of metal and damned heavy, but she tossed it like a wad of paper. Busted the mirror over the basins to smithereens.”