Dyed and Gone

by Beth Yarnall

  I felt like I’d been thrown into the lion pit.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. No candles were lit this time. The only light came from the peekaboo sunshine of the fluttering window drapery. I waited, anticipating Trinity to light her three bubble-gum-scented candles and, in her high, tinkling voice, repeat every insane thing she said three times.

  Nothing.

  I stepped farther into the room, expecting to find Trinity on the bed, but it was empty.

  “Trinity?”

  No answer. I moved toward the bed, thinking that maybe she’d left a note or something. A breeze blew the curtains up, illuminating the rumpled bed. Pillows were scattered around, the bedspread bunched and askew, as if someone had been tossing and turning.

  I turned toward the nightstand and flipped on the light. A glass had been knocked over, spilling a dark liquid on the carpet. Wine, maybe? The false golden light exposed the corners of the room, allowing me to see it in full for the first time. I did a full three sixty, scanning the space for Trinity. Nothing else seemed out of order or disturbed. There was a closed door between the bed and the window, which I hadn’t noticed before. I went over and put my ear against it. I couldn’t hear a thing, so I knocked.

  “Trinity?”

  Again, no answer. I tried the knob and it turned easily in my hand. The bathroom was neat and exceptionally orderly, lotions and bottles lined up with the precision of a military unit. But no Trinity.

  I returned to the bedroom, not knowing what else to do, and that’s when I saw it, matted and worn, peeking out from underneath the bed. Curio. I rushed over and picked up the stuffed skunk as panic filled my chest. Trinity was never without Curio.

  Something was very, very wrong here. And that was when it hit me. The last time I’d been here, the curtains had been drawn, the room closed up and chilly.

  With Curio clutched to my chest, I turned to look at the window, the long drapes fluttering gently in the hot Vegas breeze. But it wasn’t a large window. It was a doorway to a balcony.

  “Trinity?”

  Lifting the edge of the curtain out of the way, I stepped out onto the tiled terrace. I don’t know what drew me to the railing. Thirty-eight floors was a long way up, and I was not good with heights. But the urge to look over was so strong, it was as if a string were attached to my chest and unseen hands pulled me closer…closer.

  Don’t look down.

  The nearer I got to the railing, the more the view expanded around me. The mountains in the distance, so foreboding, stood guard over the masses of buildings spread out like a giant blanket on the desert floor, shiny and jagged.

  Don’t look down.

  I was within reach of the railing now, my heart slamming so hard in my chest it hurt my ears. Reaching a hand out, I took the last couple of steps that brought me to the edge.

  Don’t look down.

  But it was too late. My head bent automatically, drawing my gaze down until the world opened up below me.

  Trinity lay on the rooftop of the portico covering the entrance of the lobby—her arms and legs bent at impossible angles, a pool of dark red spread out like a pillow beneath her head.

  I gasped, my hands automatically going to my mouth, muffling my screams. Curio slipped out, following Trinity over the railing. Down and down until he landed with a silent bounce once, twice, before coming to rest next to Trinity’s outstretched hand.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Trinity.

  I paced the balcony, shaking my hands out in front of me. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. Full-on freak-out loomed over me like a dark specter. I broke out in a flop sweat that left me flushed and weak. I bent double, gripping my knees to keep from heaving. Oh, God. Swallowing extra spit, I wiped my sweaty hands on my thighs.

  Call someone. I reached for my cell phone but realized Tenchi had it.

  Tenchi. Knife. Deranged.

  Oh, God.

  I wiped the sweat off my upper lip with a shaky hand and tried to think of my options. Thirty-eight floors down or the crazy, knife-wielding maniac in the next room. Not great choices.

  This was a hotel. They had phones in the rooms. I went back into the bedroom and spied the handset on the bedside table. I reached for it, then snatched my hand back. Who was I going to call? The police? Hotel security? Kennedy? Alex? As much as I wanted there to be, there was really no choice. I sifted through my bag and came out with his card. I shook so hard, it took me two tries before I got the number right.

  “Kennedy.”

  “It’s Azalea. I need you to come to Trinity’s suite. Right now.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “It’s Trinity…she’s dead.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I replaced the receiver and went immediately to the bedroom door, locking myself in. Then I sank down, leaning my head back against the door.

  The curtains continued their dance with no real rhythm or predictability. Kind of like this weekend. And life in general.

  For the first time, I noticed the sounds from the street. Thousands, maybe millions, went about their everyday lives. Had any of them heard Trinity scream? Had they watched her body falling? Had she fought all the way down or had she been relaxed, resigned to her fate?

  I rested my arms on my drawn-up knees and put my head down, trying not to cry and working hard to blank my mind and drive away the reappearing image of Trinity on that rooftop. A teardrop dripped off the end of my nose, then another. I sniffed. She was so young, so damaged. She’d lost so much in her young life. Poor Trinity.

  I heard voices in the outer room and quickly got up and wiped my face.

  “Azalea!” Kennedy’s voice boomed.

  That was all I needed. I threw open the door and came at him like a charging bull, knocking him back a step. He caught me, hugging hard.

  “Hey. Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” I pushed to get out of his arms, suddenly feeling ridiculous for letting him comfort me. I didn’t even like the guy. “She’s in there.” I gestured back to the room behind me, my arm shaking as badly as the rest of me. “Down there. She went over the balcony.”

  “What have you done?” Tenchi roared, coming at me like six feet of pissed-off boyfriend.

  I edged around Kennedy. “Nothing. I did nothing. She was already gone when you brought me here.”

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” Tenchi turned to go into the bedroom, but was stopped by a uniformed officer.

  One of the detectives I recognized from Dhane’s suite, Platt I think, came out of the bedroom. He adjusted his pants over his substantial middle and announced, “DB’s on the roof of the hotel entrance. Probably a suicide.”

  “Oh, no. No.” Tenchi collapsed, crumpling to the ground like a discarded costume after Halloween.

  “She didn’t commit suicide,” I insisted.

  “Something you want to tell us?” Platt asked, suspicion dripping from every word.

  “How do you know?” Kennedy asked.

  “Curio, her stuffed skunk, she always carries him around with her. I found him under the bed,” I answered.

  Platt looked at me like I’d taken a couple of laps ’round the crazy bush. “What the hell’s she talking about?”

  Kennedy pointed at Tenchi’s still form. “Make sure he doesn’t go in the bedroom.” Then he strolled in, earning a long-suffering huff from Platt.

  I followed somewhat reluctantly.

  Kennedy walked around the bed. “Where is it?”

  I motioned toward the open door to the balcony. “It went over the railing.”

  “All by itself?” Platt chuckled, but it wasn’t a nice sound. “Next you’ll be telling us it didn’t commit suicide either.”

  “Of course not.” I couldn’t keep the annoyance out of my voice. “I dropped it…by accident.”

  Kennedy went out onto the balcony. I couldn’t see all of him, just part of one leg, but I figured he was looking down at Trinity.
When he came back in, his expression was a little starker, a little more worn around the edges. He started barking out commands at Platt and the two other uniformed officers he’d arrived with. Then he gripped my elbow, leading me back into the living room. Tenchi was still lying in a heap on the carpet.

  Kennedy pushed me onto a couch and sat down next to me. He took out a notebook much like the one Alex had. “Okay, Azalea, I want you to tell me everything that happened, everything you can remember. Try to be as detailed as possible. All right?”

  I nodded, twisting my fingers in my lap. It took some effort, but I told him everything that had happened since I’d seen him at the convention center, stumbling a little when I got to the part about finding Trinity.

  I hadn’t noticed Platt had taken up a station near the front door and was listening to everything I said. “That’s the best story I’ve heard in a long time.”

  “It’s not a story—it’s the truth.” I didn’t bother to hide what a loathsome toad I thought Platt was.

  “Your girlfriend’s got fire,” he teased Kennedy.

  “I’m not his girlfriend, you tremendous ass.”

  “Wish I had a suspect with a rack like yours throw herself at me.” Peeling himself off the wall, Platt shook his head. “But then I don’t have Kennedy’s looks or connections.”

  “Shut up, Platt. Go find out what’s taking the crime scene team so long.” Kennedy’s patience for Platt was finally beginning to show cracks.

  “Sure. Whatever you say, Detective.”

  Kennedy’s gaze stayed on Platt’s retreating form until he disappeared through the door. A random mix of anger, annoyance, guilt, and determination played across his face.

  “What’s going to happen now?” I asked, trying not to identify with how he felt.

  “Now we’re going to process the scene. I’m going to need you to come in later to give a formal statement.” He jerked his head in Tenchi’s direction. “Are you going to press kidnapping charges against him?”

  I hadn’t thought of that. I supposed I should, but there just didn’t seem any point to it. Tenchi looked so stupid lying on the floor, his blond pageboy as perfect as ever.

  “I just want my cell phone back,” I answered.

  Kennedy bent down and rummaged through Tenchi’s pockets, coming up with my phone, the knife, and Tenchi’s wallet. He handed me my phone.

  “Should we throw water on him or something?” I asked.

  “Nah, he’ll come around.” He stood and came over next to me. Moments ticked by where all he did was look at me, his watchful gaze taking in and cataloging everything about me. “Are you all right?”

  I glanced at the bedroom doorway. “Not really, but I’ll be okay.” It seemed that even in death, Trinity needed someone to look out for her. Who was left to do it? “Does Trinity have any other family? I mean, who will take care of the, ah, arrangements?”

  “I didn’t come across any other family. The sister-in-law was all she had left.”

  “Will you let me know if there’ll be a service or something?”

  “Sure.” He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, regarding me with a frown.

  It was the wrong place and time, but I had to know. “Why did you manipulate me like that? I was cooperating, telling you everything you wanted to know. You didn’t have to do that to me.”

  “I know. I—”

  “Another one, Eamon?” A man with the rigid back of a soldier strode into the room, his green eyes sharp in his creased face, his white hair a little rusted on top.

  Kennedy spun away from me and approached the man. The pair exchanged a brief handshake that looked like it hurt.

  Eamon?

  “Yes, sir. The victim went over the balcony, landing on the roof of the hotel entrance. Would you like to see?”

  The other man shook him off. “I’ve seen all the death I ever want to see till my own.” He braced his feet and put his arms behind his back. “What have you got?”

  “Possible suicide, although the witness”—Kennedy gestured toward me—“has given a statement that puts that in question.”

  The man noticed me for the first time. “Death is a terrible thing,” he said to me. “Especially when it comes too soon.” He held out a hand. “Chief Seamus Kennedy.”

  As I stood and placed my hand in the chief’s, I gave Kennedy a questioning look. “Azalea March,” I answered in return.

  “Azalea. That a family name?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I had an aunt named Heaven.” The chief rubbed his chin, thinking. “Come to think of it, all of her siblings had unusual names. Orion, Calypso, Atlas.” He smiled, and it was then that I could really see the resemblance. “Her ma’am fancied herself a bit of an astronomer, I suppose. Sweet lady.”

  Platt came in and spotted the chief. He gave King Kennedy such a hateful look, it was a good thing his back was turned. “Chief.” Platt ambled over and put out his hand. “A pleasure to see you, sir.”

  “I don’t think it’s so pleasurable for Ms. March.” The chief nodded toward the bedroom. “Or for that poor child in there.”

  Platt turned red. Adjusting his belt, he tried to backpedal. “Well, no, sir. I didn’t mean it like that. We so rarely have the pleasure of your presence is all.”

  The chief clapped Platt on the arm. “Don’t let me keep you from your duties, son.”

  I think I liked the chief. I think I liked him a lot.

  “No, sir.” Platt backed up toward the bedroom. “Not at all. Just making pleasantries. Thank you, sir.”

  Tenchi started to come around just then, making moaning noises.

  “Sweet Mary and Joseph.” The chief put a hand to his chest. “What is that?”

  “My other witness,” Kennedy answered, like he knew he was going to get majorly teased about this one.

  “Just when I thought I’d seen everything,” the chief muttered, scratching the tufts of his graying red hair.

  Looking down at Tenchi, I felt kind of sorry for him. Not for the first time, I wondered what his relationship was to Trinity. Friends? Lovers?

  Eww. Now I was picturing it.

  Tenchi opened his eyes and blinked up at the three of us bent over him. “What happened?”

  “You fainted,” I answered.

  I could see it all come back to him one link at a time. “Trinity.” Her name sounded as if it had been ripped from his soul.

  He leaped up, knocking us back. Then before we thought to move, he dashed to the bedroom. We ran after him, colliding in the doorway. Shouts rang out from the bedroom and there were grunts like scuffling. Kennedy muscled his way in front of us, pushing me into the chief.

  The chief caught me. “Pardon me, miss.”

  Two uniformed officers came out, carrying a struggling Tenchi by both arms.

  “We caught him just in time,” the larger of the two officers said.

  Kennedy followed close behind. “Take him in. I’m not sure how he fits into all this, but he’s definitely involved. Better put him on suicide watch, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” the other officer answered.

  I watched them haul Tenchi out, which was not easy, as he’d gone completely limp, sobbing uncontrollably. Every couple of steps he threw himself backward, reaching a hand back and hollering Trinity’s name. Streaks of black makeup ran down his face, making him look like he’d been attacked with a marker.

  “Idiot tried to throw himself off the balcony,” Kennedy said to no one in particular.

  “Poor…” The chief looked like he was trying to solve a riddle. “Child.”

  “I think he’s a man,” Kennedy offered.

  “He is,” I said.

  Kennedy turned to me as if he’d forgotten I was there. “Why don’t you go back to your hotel, get some rest.”

  “Yeah, sure. Okay.” I headed for the door, then turned back. “Call me if you hear anything, you know, about her service.”

  Kennedy looked like he’d say more i
f his father wasn’t in the room, but instead he only nodded.

  The hall was quiet and, for me, filled with ghosts. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. But a noise coming from one of the nearby suites snagged my attention like a comb in knotted hair. I stopped and backed up a step. Suite thirty-eight forty-eight. Dhane’s suite. I stood bracketed between the two doors, Trinity’s and Dhane’s. Being so close to where Dhane died gave me the sensation of spiders crawling up the back of my neck. I shivered.

  There was the noise again. It sounded like…like moaning.

  I leaned toward Dhane’s door, afraid to get too close and be sucked into an alternate universe or something.

  Mumbling, then a low, throaty groan. I sidestepped closer. It sounded like…like someone might be hurt.

  I slid one foot closer, then the other, and pressed my ear to the door. My superdetective skills were really improving.

  Something banged against the door. I jumped back. More low noises and then the moans turned to whimpers. I tiptoed back to the door and listened again.

  It sounded like…like…sex! Ewww.

  Who would have sex in the suite where a man had died? And right next to the door, too? I shuddered, trying to shake off the creepy-crawlies. I was half tempted to hide and wait to find out who it was. But what if it took hours? And the hotel could have filled the room with new guests. It might not even be anyone I knew. I considered listening again, but pathetically I was kind of jealous, which was annoying. And sad.

  That was it. My life officially sucked. Jealous of two people having sex in a room I wouldn’t be caught…better amend that. Jealous of two people having sex in a room I wouldn’t enter if you handed me the formula for Hjálmar’s new miracle product.

  Hjálmar’s new product.

  Of course! I could almost hear the lightbulb in my head ping. If my instincts were right, there was more going on here than anime freaks and sex in a death suite.

  A whole lot more.

  I really needed to talk to Vivian and Juan Carlos. Right now.

  Chapter Sixteen