by Elle Klass
“I really don’t know. She fed me the story about her brother but I don’t believe it. First of all, these murders were a long time ago. She couldn’t have been more than a baby. I guess the killer could still be out there.” That last tidbit popped into my head last minute. He could still be killing?
“Listen. I gotta run. The bar calls. It’s been non-stop since we opened. You be careful Chica, you hear me?” she said with an edge of sternness and definite concern.
“You know I will.”
“I don’t know that. I’ve been on these escapades with you and safety isn’t your first concern. This guy is a serial murderer. Maybe more psycho than that guy we took down here. BE CAREFUL!” We didn’t take the guy down, La Tige did, but I knew what she meant. She’d been a prisoner with me and La Tige but we managed to escape and I went full-force into my search, then her bar burned. More driven by my distaste and the idea someone would attempt to hurt Kacy, I discovered my one-time runaway companion PeeWee was behind it.
I caught the elevator as the door was about to close, clicked the floor of my room and waited as it coasted upward, silent. Energy coursed through me and my stomach gurgled for food. First I’d call room service, then I needed to get on my computer and find out if there were any more murders that fit this guy’s M.O.
When I opened the door, my eyes shot directly toward Rox in Raul’s T-shirt, unable to contain my anger I shouted, “Take that off!”
She glanced at me with wide eyes that filled with water and nodded as she pulled it over her head and tossed it onto my bed. She curled under the covers.
Guilt ate at me. She didn’t know, and it wasn’t right of me to scream at her. I dug into my suitcase and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top. “You can wear these.”
She nodded, taking them from me and slipping them on in front of me.
“I’m sorry,” she squeaked.
“I’m the one who needs to apologize. You didn’t know.” I grasped the shirt and held it to my chest.
“Who does it belong to?” she asked in a voice so timid it didn’t sound anything like the spunky girl who snuck into my rental car.
“Someone close to me who passed away. It’s my lucky shirt, I guess.” I stuffed it under my pillow and got up, grabbed my laptop and leaned onto my bed against a pile of fluffy pillows.
I tapped on the keyboard as I considered what to put in the search bar. After several minutes of my tapping, Rox said, “I know computers. Want help?”
I shifted my eyes from the blank screen to her. “OK.” It couldn’t hurt, and if she was some kind of computer whiz she’d be a help.
She smiled and jumped onto my bed. “What do you want to know?”
“If there’s been any more murders of boys who attended the Einstein Academy in the past ten years or so.” I did it. I gave her a nugget.
Her smile dropped and she hesitated, then took my computer. “Let’s start with a list of names from the Einstein Academy.” Within several minutes and a conversation with herself too quiet for me to hear, she placed the computer on the bed between us. “Every male who’s ever attended.”
I gawked at the screen. The list was huge. I spotted my brother’s name in there and all the boys I knew of, along with thousands more. “How... You’re in their system?”
She raised and lowered her eyebrows. “Told you I was a hacker.”
“Where did you learn to do this?”
She shrugged. “Natural aptitude.” She gave me a cheeky smile. Natural aptitude maybe, but someone taught her to hack or at least gave her pointers. Did she go to the academy? If so, that would make sense, but I didn’t trust she’d give me a straight answer if asked, so I didn’t.
“Can you cross these names with disappearances and death certificates?” I could have searched that on one of the data bases on the computer, but wanted to know how good she really was.
She twisted her mouth. “I can, but that’s trickier and we don’t want to be traced.” She pecked at the keyboard, having more quiet conversations that included: that’s it, crap, all good, and other various comments.
“We only have a few minutes, but here’s your list.” She took a few screen shots then said, “Time’s up,” and clicked out.
I watched in wonder. “What was that data base?”
She gave me her cheeky smile. “You don’t want to know.”
“Can your snooping be traced back to my computer?”
Her eyes rolled sideways. “Nope.”
I wasn’t convinced, but didn’t press the issue. Instead we spent the next hour correlating a list. By the time we were done, we had twenty-four boys who went missing and/or died that went to the Einstein Academy in a span of six years; three of those years when Einstein attended. The puzzle was coming together. Einstein must have caught on after his friend died and began piecing it together then. He knew of less than half the victims, and who knows how many others there may have been previously, not connected to the academy.
I was searching for a seriously deranged individual and I wasn’t sure how Peeping Tom and the judge fit into the picture, but they were certainly part of it.
Rox stared at the list blankly, her mind a million miles away.
“Rox.” I nudged her.
“It’s late. I’m going to sleep.” She pressed one foot onto the ground, followed by the other, and walked the two steps to her bed. She didn’t pounce or jump, but lay down like a normal person, pulled the covers up, and went to sleep.
The girl was strange. I laid my computer on the desk and followed her lead, snuggled onto my bed with Raul’s shirt tucked beneath my nose.
Doppelganger
I slept hard and woke up to my loud stomach as it yelled for food. I forgot all about eating when I saw Rox in Raul’s shirt, then was drawn into the mystery.
“I have a list of everyone who worked at the academy during those six years,” said Rox. I followed her voice to the desk and my computer.
I opened my lips then closed them. If she could hack into wherever she did last night, getting past my password was a cinch. The door buzzed and she jumped off the chair and sauntered towards it. “I ordered breakfast, hope you don’t mind.”
I sat in my bed, awestruck. This teenaged cannonball had taken over my life.
I quickly pulled a ten out of my purse, got out of bed and handed it to the man as he rolled the tray into our room. “Thank you.”
He nodded and left. Under the platters were eggs, biscuits, toast, and sausage, along with two glasses of orange juice.
Rox divided the food, making each plate half and half, then took a seat at the small table for two.
I sat across from her. “Anything interesting you found on the list?”
“Not really,” she said, a second before stuffing a grape jelly-coated biscuit into her mouth.
After breakfast we searched through the names and cross referenced them with any names connected to the boys. Not one of their mysteries had been solved, anyone arrested was released without sufficient evidence and none of them were connected. I wasn’t shocked at all. Whoever it was changed identities. I’d already come to that conclusion.
Being cooped up in the room wasn’t healthy, so I sent Rox downstairs to the gift shops to buy herself clothes. She couldn’t keep wearing mine. It was evening already. Keeping my breakfast down was a good sign so I decided to chance it, find a restaurant and try again. If I was lucky I’d be blessed with adult company.
I went downstairs to the lobby and followed the shiny tile floor spread out before me leading straight back. A set of elevators on the left and wide, gold carpeted stairs to my right. When my foot hit the first step the tantalizing aromas from the restaurant hit my nose. My stomach instantly complained.
I continued up the steps to a large square room. A long hallway veered to my left. I stole a glance at it. It was empty, so ignoring my stomach that was screaming at me, I walked down it. There was nothing but closed doors. When I reached the end there was a set of restrooms one direct
ion and another long hallway the other direction.
I followed the hallway and it looped around back to the large square room. My curiosity satisfied, I walked towards a set of large glass doors and stepped onto a walkway that led to the food court. Below the railing was an indoor swimming pool larger than my house. I gasped at its size.
Each step took me closer to the food and the teasing aromas. I came to a fork and stared at my choices. There was a buffet. The thought of food sitting above burners for hours sounded as appetizing as eating an uncooked raccoon. The next option was a restaurant. I imagined full course meals cooked by high class chefs. A.K.A. over-priced portions that weren’t enough to satisfy a newborn bunny. My last option was a bar. It was a no brainer for me.
I walked through the doorway and straight to the bar. I didn’t have to wait for seating or sit alone with others gawking at me and thinking She’s all alone, poor thing. I’d spent much of my life alone and was never bothered by what others thought. Tonight, however, I didn’t feel like being the poor little girl surrounded by a bunch of hoity toity people like my father.
Several glass shelves lined the walls behind the bar filled with top shelf liquors. It wasn’t Happy Trails but in a pinch it worked. The gentleman next to me loosened a striped tie around his neck, slipped it off, and stuffed it into a briefcase resting on the high-back leather bar stool between us. He clutched a large phone or small tablet in his hand that beeped off the hook. No doubt he was here on business.
“I’m Sue,” said a raspy voice from the other side of me. Bewildered, I turned to see Betty White’s physical doppelganger, including her fluffy white bangs and waves.
“Shanna.” I motioned to the bartender for a menu.
“The garlic butter shrimp is excellent,” she offered. Her lips drawn into a large smile displaying super-white teeth.
“Thank you.” I loved seafood but hadn’t craved it since Raul’s death. In fact, the thought of eating something out of the ocean turned my stomach. I blamed it on association. Raul loved the ocean and he was gone.
“Can I get you a drink?” The bartender was chunky, about five feet tall, and had a large dimple on her right cheek.
“A mimosa and spinach dip please.” I handed her back the menu.
“A good choice. The spinach dip is another of my favorites. Are you new here?”
What a strange question. It was a hotel. Who was I to pick at someone else after I spent two years living at one of the finest establishments in Paris, France.
“My first time,” I said and took a sip of the sweet, orangey drink Dimple the bartender placed in front of me.
“I stay here often. My husband does a lot of business in New York.” The corners of her mouth turned up in a wicked smile. Something told me she played while hubby was away.
Within a few minutes the spinach dip arrived and we chatted over it. She was a lively woman with a penchant for attractive young men. Her pupils shifted as her eyes enlarged. “Double man-candy behind you,” she said in a low voice.
My first instinct was to look but that would be obvious and I might look as though I was man shopping too.
“You’re so young and beautiful. Do you have a man?” she asked, her eyes blatantly planted on the men somewhere behind me.
I didn’t want to tell her the truth. Raul’s loss was still heavy on my heart and breaking down in a mess of tears and snot in public wasn’t on my agenda. “I haven’t found the right one.”
Her brows formed a V. “That’s the problem. Young men today don’t have the same values and they’re lazy. My son-in-law allows my daughter to work while he stays home with the twins. Do you believe that?!” she said, as more a statement than a question, as she immediately continued talking. “When I was young, men worked full-time jobs and supported their families unlike these millennials.”
Was something wrong with her vision? I was clearly a millennial. I wondered when was the last time she checked on daycare prices. Not that I’d been in the market, but Raul’s brother and wife had children and I was aware of the overpriced fees. It was robbery! “She must have a good job.”
“Oh yes. We sent her to college. She’s an anesthesiologist.” She pulled in a breath and let out a long sigh.
“How long have you been married?” I asked to change the subject.
“Forty-five years this September,” she said with pride.
My heart lurched as her statement reminded me Raul and I would never celebrate even one anniversary. “That’s wonderful.” I wiped the last chip across the bowl to collect the scraps of dip and stuffed it into my mouth.
Her eyes followed something behind me. A nice-looking older man resembling a ninety year old version of Pierce Brosnan took a seat on her other side. Betty White’s doppelganger grabbed his knee when he sat and he kissed her cheek softly. “Speak of the devil,” she said, turning her head from him to me.
Seeing them together was amazing. They were adorable and blessed. Sadness covered me like a box with no holes, bringing on a sudden case of claustrophobia, “Nice to meet you. I have a long day tomorrow and really need to go. Thanks for the conversation.” I winked at him. “You’re a lucky man.” I scooted off my stool.
“You must come back,” she said as I rushed off without paying attention to where I was heading, bumping into the chest of a man. A tall man with a familiar scent that curled my toes.
Blasts from the Past
Without glancing up, I maneuvered around him and ran through the hall, waves of sadness filling my void. I dropped onto the floor of the lonely hallway filled with rooms.
“Shanna?” called a deep voice. Tears streaked my face and stung my eyes as I sat cross-legged with my hand buried inside them. The mingle of two male voices flittered through the air. He was in the open area between the food court and the hallway talking with someone.
I squeezed my watery eyes and concentrated on the voices, but wasn’t able to decipher what they were saying or even who he was talking to. Why? Why now after so many years? I thought back to his occasional phone calls that stopped completely about three years ago. I’d never answered or responded to any of them. Was it Kacy? No, she hadn’t talked to him in years either. I hadn’t told anyone except Mrs. Childrone.
“Shanna,” he called again, only closer. He sounded close enough to be in the hallway.
Through my tears I stood and walked the opposite direction of his voice, knowing the hallway made a horseshoe. If I sprinted into the main room the stairs to the elevator were just around the corner. I took the chance and picked up my pace.
When I hit the large room another familiar figure stood near the staircase. Crap!
“Justine,” he said in his sexy Parisian accent as he moved towards me. His green eyes twinkling under the lights.
My head grew dizzy and fuzzy as the room spun around me. My body grew heavy like lead and I dropped, everything went black.
I woke up on the floor with two handsome faces staring at me. One with the most delicious green eyes. The other with one-of-a-kind silver bullets staring at me from his upside-down face. My head rested in his lap while his hand caressed my hair. I blinked. Was this real? Were they both here together? How do they know each other?
“Take it easy,” said Didier in a syrupy voice that brought on a rush of sweet memories.
I squashed my eyes together and held them for a few seconds, hoping this was just my crazy mourning imagination. When I reopened them they were still there and my head was still in Fetch’s lap and he continued to stroke my hair.
Maybe I was in an episode of Candid Camera. I never expected to see either of these guys again. I left Didier at the altar by sneaking out like a chicken the night before our wedding. When I went back, I was too chicken again to face him and left a copy of my book at Jean the concierge’s desk and slipped out. I cared very much for him but wasn’t right for him.
I’d never defined what Fetch was in my life. A boyfriend – maybe; a lover – definitely; a load of fun – alw
ays, but seeing him here, smelling his scent, brought back feelings I had long forgotten by my purposeful ignoring of him. The last time we saw each other was when I lived in New York and it was like this, a chance meeting. The blue and green specks in his eyes danced in the silver pools of his irises and a wave of emotion shot through me followed by a tsunami of guilt. I recognized the emotion, so similar to what I felt for Raul. Had I secretly been in love with Fetch, but so deep in denial I refused to accept it?
“Cleo?” The word played on Fetch’s tongue.
Cleo. So he knew. That meant they both knew. This wasn’t a chance thing. It was a planned meeting. “How... I...” the words sputtered off my lips with nowhere to go.
“Can you stand?” asked Didier.
I nodded. The back of my head rubbing against Fetch’s legs. Didier held my hands while Fetch gripped my shoulders and gently pushed upwards until I was standing. My knees weak from shock, I thought I’d fall again.
Fetch wrapped an arm around me and Didier did the same. I was munched between two of the world’s hottest men. We walked towards a bench perched in front of a large window and sat when the Betty White and older version of Pierce Brosnan look-a-likes strolled through the doors and towards the steps. She smiled and gave me a thumbs up.
“We didn’t expect this would be such a shock for you,” said Fetch, his gaze cutting deep into my soul.
My blood suddenly boiled. “Shock. How would this not be a shock? The two of you know each other and stalk me here at this hotel!” Then I remembered the painting of me that Fetch sold someone for a handsome price. I knew then it was Sam who made the offer on Didier’s behalf. This shouldn’t be a shock at all. It was beginning to make sense.
“We’ve known each other for a while. Thanks to you,” replied Didier, calm and relaxed.
I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe it’s time you let me in on the joke.”
“This isn’t a joke. You are an unforgettable woman,” purred Didier, clasping his hand around mine. A large gold band pressed against my skin. He’s married?