Invitation to Murder

by Beth Prentice

  "Stand back," he said, nodding for me to get out of his way.

  With that, he smashed the door with his shoulder. It didn't budge. Not even a millimeter.

  Then I remembered. "When the station was built, this room was made as a strong room. A kind of safe. The walls are thick concrete, and the door is reinforced with steel. That's why it's so heavy." I too had read a book on the history of the station earlier this evening.

  Sam rubbed his shoulder and cursed under his breath. I couldn't repeat what he cursed, as it wasn't very nice. In fact, his mood now just seemed grumpy.

  "You couldn't have told me that before I rammed it?"

  "Sorry, I only just remembered." I cringed. "Maybe banging on it with your fist and screaming will work better. You know, get someone's attention."

  "Whose attention are we getting? Isn't everyone supposed to be staying in the studio?"

  "Well, yes, but we're out here wandering around. Surely we can't be the only ones."

  "Do you have any more chocolate bars in that bag?" asked Sam, not impressed with my suggestion.

  I opened my bag and looked. I did, at one point in time, have another chocolate bar in there, but I was pretty sure I'd eaten that earlier this evening when I'd been left alone and bored in the studio. Probably best just to say—No, I don't. But then I spotted a Midori bottle I'd found at the makeshift bar.

  "I have something better," I said, smiling. Breaking the seal, I handed the bottle to Sam.

  "That's nowhere near big enough," he said but accepted my offer anyway.

  Downing half of the contents, he handed the rest to me and moved to sit on the floor, checking his phone for a signal. I looked at his scowl and sat, leaning against the wall opposite him. Sometimes a bit of distance was the best solution.

  * * *

  I didn't check the time, but it felt like hours that we sat there. Sam informed me it was probably only ten minutes, and could I please not keep mentioning it. I figured the time to be well after one in the morning and put his mood down to tiredness. I knew I was feeling it.

  He sat up against the wall, his head slumped backward, his eyes closed. I noticed the shadows on his cheeks from his eyelashes, his lips slightly parted, and how his face was now covered with whiskers. As I watched, his breathing slowed, and his features relaxed. My stomach flipped, and my heart fluttered.

  I mentally slapped myself for having such feelings. Sam clearly wasn't interested in me in that way. Yes, earlier he'd been flirting with me, but he flirted with everyone. And even though it made me feel special, I figured he didn't mean it to. It was just his way.

  I felt the tears prickle my eyelids at that thought. Geez, I really needed to get some sleep myself. Fatigue was definitely affecting my tear ducts. At least, that was what I put it down to. It definitely couldn't be disappointment that Sam wasn't falling for me the way I seemed to be falling for him.

  I dropped my head to the floor and used my arm as a pillow. We really needed to get out of here, and I was keeping my ears open for any sounds indicating someone would be on the other side of the door, but a part of me didn't want to leave. It felt safe in here with Sam. Judging by his mood, I did wonder if maybe it was a little bit too intimate for him, and he was uncomfortable.

  He had no reason to be. It's not like I was going to launch myself across the room and rip his clothes off. Okay, in my head I was doing that, but I would never have the courage to actually do it. I didn't even have the courage to initiate that kind of thing when I was in a committed relationship. I always left that up to the guy to start.

  I sniffed and wiped at my eyes. A minute later, I heard the rustle of clothing as Sam stood. I didn't open my eyes. I was already desperately trying to keep the tears in. His rubber-soled joggers squeaked on the vinyl flooring as he crossed the room. I felt him sit down next to me, lift my head, and place it on his leg. He then gently wiped my hair back from my face. He obviously wasn't worried about personal space or me jumping him.

  His leg felt warm and hard under my cheek, and the smell of Sam filled my senses. Sure, his clothing wasn't as clean as it had been when the reunion started, but he still smelled good. It was a mixture of laundry detergent, Gucci's Guilty aftershave, and what I could only describe as Sam.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered.

  "What for?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity, and his grumpy mood gone.

  "Getting us into this mess."

  "Alex, you didn't get us into this mess. It just happened. The door closed."

  "No, I mean all of it. Like earlier, if I had taken you guys with me to meet whoever sent me that message, you would have been there when I found Faith, and we would have known she was alive. Then Wes never would have left to call the police."

  "We don't know those two things are connected."

  "No, but it's pretty coincidental, isn't it?"

  Sam sighed. "What I've been trying to figure out is why you're connected to it all. Have you had any contact with these people since you finished working here?"

  "No, only Georgie and her family."

  "You said earlier Faith believes Jake still loves you."

  "So?"

  "Why would she think that? Have you had any contact with him over the years?"

  I sat up and used both my hands to wipe my face, pulling my hair back. God only knew what I looked like. "No. Jake dumped me with no real explanation other than he wasn't in a good place for a relationship. At the time, I asked him for more information than that, but he left and would never return my calls. Eventually, Georgie convinced me to forget about him and move on."

  "Did you?"

  "Sam, what are you suggesting?"

  "Nothing. I'm not suggesting anything. It's just…well…I think Faith may be right."

  I rubbed my eyes, attempting to wake myself up. "Jake was not in love with me then, and he certainly isn't now."

  "But I've seen the way he looks at you. It's like a pained how did I let her get away kind of look."

  "He's probably got gas," I said, shaking my head at Sam's suggestion.

  Sam laughed. It was good to hear. It made me feel warm inside.

  "Anyway, it wouldn't matter," I continued. "I've moved on. He was my first love and will always be that, but I definitely don't want him to be my last."

  "Your last?"

  "Yeah, that spot is reserved for my soul mate, my forever man."

  Sam's blue eyes looked deep into mine. I felt my heart stutter and wanted to say more, but the words just wouldn't form. His hand moved to cup my face, and my heart rate kicked up, causing my breath to become shallow. His thumb skimmed my lip, and time stood still as I waited, waited for his soft, full lips to touch mine.

  "You've got chocolate stuck—there," he said, rubbing the corner of my lip.

  So much for a romantic moment. He was just grooming me.

  "Put your head back down. You should get some sleep." His voice was gruff as he moved his hand to guide my head back to his leg.

  I felt the hitch in my throat. It wouldn't have mattered whether I'd listened to his sister, Chloe, or not. Even if I'd gone out with him before tonight, I obviously wasn't the girl for him. Then why did I feel that he was the guy for me? Tears pricked again as disappointment sat heavily in my chest.

  We sat quietly. Sam's leg was warm under my head, his hand resting on my shoulder. I knew that I was supposed to sleep, but I couldn't. My hormones were racing. My mind was racing, and I generally just felt agitated. I sighed.

  "I forgot to tell you about Bernie's office," I said, yawning.

  "What about it?"

  "When we were searching for the cables earlier, I went in there. Do you remember seeing the family photo on his desk?"

  "Yeah, it's been there for years. He was strangely attached to the frame."

  "Well, it was gone."

  I felt the muscle in Sam's leg tense. "Hmmm, that's odd. I'll ask Matt if it was there when he searched the computer history the second time."

  My eye
lids felt heavy as I fidgeted and adjusted my position.

  "Can you sit still please?" asked Sam, his voice husky.

  "Sorry." I attempted to sit still and quiet. I wasn't great at it. Sure, my eyelids were heavy, and my yawning had turned up a few notches, but sleep wasn't anywhere on my radar. I had way too much running through my mind. And every bit of it created yet another loose end. I hated loose ends. They were messy.

  "Why do I recognize Faith?" I asked, more to myself than to Sam.

  "She looks like you."

  I sat up straight, knocking Sam's arm away as I moved. "What?"

  "She looks like you."

  "She does not!"

  "Yes, she does," he said. "And she knows it. So does Jake."

  Now, sure she has blonde hair and sort of blue-green eyes, but that's where the resemblance stops. And anyway, even if we did share those characteristics, that's just a type. It didn't mean anything. All men have a type. Don't they?

  I was about to question Sam more about it when we heard a noise coming from the other side of the door.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sam instantly jumped up, almost knocking me onto my back in the process. He ran to the door and started to do exactly what I had suggested earlier. He banged on the door and shouted to whoever was out there.

  See, not such a stupid idea, was it?

  "Hey!" called Sam. I jumped up and joined him.

  It was Matt's voice we heard call back to us. "Sam? Alex?" he called.

  "Yeah," replied Sam, rather loudly in my ear. "We're locked in. Can you get us out of here?"

  I could imagine Matt scratching his head. "We need a key. Who has keys to this door?" His muffled voice came back.

  We all went quiet, thinking of the answer. I was the one with the big idea. "Ask Dawn. She may have one," I yelled.

  "Okay. I'll be back. Just sit tight."

  I looked up at Sam. We had nothing else to do.

  Thankfully, Dawn did have keys that would open the door. And after Matt dropped them twice, the door was open, and we stepped out to freedom.

  "How the hell did you get yourselves locked in there?" asked Matt.

  "The door swung closed. It must have locked automatically," I said. Both men turned to look at me.

  "Alex," said Sam. "That's not possible. The only way that door can lock is with a key. People could get locked in there otherwise."

  Well, of course I knew people could get locked in. That's what happened to us, but what exactly was Sam suggesting? The expression I wore must have said it all.

  "Someone locked us in, Alex," continued Sam. "Did you not realize that?"

  I was way too tired for my brain to comprehend this. "What?"

  Sam reached out and pulled me close under his arm. "Come on. Let's go and get a hot drink. I don't know about you, but I'm freezing."

  He didn't feel freezing. He felt warm and snuggly and safe.

  "You need to show Matt the sweater," I said, enjoying the feeling of Sam's arm.

  Sam shook his head. "I'm so tired I forgot about that."

  He led Matt back into the room. I waited in the hallway, just in case we got locked in again. I was a quick learner. I wasn't falling for that twice.

  Matt's expression was grim as he walked back out to me.

  "How long were you in there?" he asked, walking ahead of us.

  Sam shook his head. "What's the time now?"

  "Just after two-thirty." Under the fluorescent lights, Matt looked as tired as I felt.

  "Probably about an hour then," finished Sam.

  "What are we doing about the sweater?" I asked.

  "Leaving it where it is. We'll lock the door behind us so no one else can get in, and we'll leave it for the police to sort out."

  "But they'll think I did it!" I protested, panicking.

  "Didn't you say that you had reported it stolen?" asked Sam.

  "Yes."

  "Well, you'll be fine then. They'll know someone is trying to set you up."

  Sam and Matt seemed happy with that solution as they locked the door and moved down the hallway. I wondered if they would feel the same if it were their sweater. I bet they wouldn't.

  "What have you been doing? I thought you would have missed us before now," Sam asked Matt as I jogged to catch up with them.

  "I've been busy. I wondered who sent you that message, Alex. You know the one that asked you to meet an informant under the stairs?"

  That felt like years ago. In a time when murder was fun and alcohol was flowing.

  "Well, I wondered what happened to whoever was supposed to meet you and who it was. Maybe they saw somebody else going into the toilets. That may give us a clue to who may be running around tonight dressed as you. Don't know whether that will help us solve what happened to Wes, but it may help if we know what happened to Faith."

  Good idea. One I hadn't thought of.

  "How do we find out who sent it?" asked Sam.

  Matt smiled. "Well, I checked with Blake, our resident techie. If we take Alex's phone to him, he can trace who sent the call."

  He could? Wow.

  "Is Blake here tonight?" asked Sam.

  "Yeah, he's here. I found him in the presentation department, asleep on one of the computers. I think he'd been gaming earlier this evening."

  "Why was he here gaming? Couldn't he do that at home?" I asked.

  "Of course he could, but why use his own internet when he can use the station's for free?"

  Good point.

  "Okay. Let's find him," said Sam, a renewed purpose giving him energy.

  "He's upstairs in his office. I was actually on my way looking for you when I found you in the dub room."

  "Okay. Lead the way."

  "Can we still get that hot drink?" I asked, thinking a coffee might just reactivate my brain cells. Thankfully, both men agreed, so we made a quick stop at the studio.

  As we entered, the lighting was on low, and people were camped everywhere. Some had been organized and had a blanket with them, others were using each other as pillows, and some were sitting up, backs against the wall, napping. I looked over at Georgie and saw her still sitting on the same chair, Dawn lying on her lap.

  I wandered over to her as Sam and Matt went to the makeshift coffee stand, saying they would get me a cup whilst they were there.

  "Hey," I said quietly, approaching Georgie. She opened her eyes. I noticed the strain and tiredness around them, and my heart squeezed. "Your dad hasn't turned up yet?" I asked, hoping he had just wandered in whilst Sam and I were locked in the dub room.

  She shook her head. "Where is he, Alex?"

  I felt the tears sting my eyelids. "I don't know, Georgie, but we're going to find him. I promised you that. And he'll be okay." He had to be.

  She nodded her head. "Okay. Okay."

  "Where's Faith?" I asked, looking around and not seeing her. "Has she found Jake yet?"

  "No. She's asleep somewhere over there near Tiffany. She was pretty freaked-out, and it wasn't helping Mum. I felt really bad sending her away, but you know… I have to look after Mum first."

  I nodded. "Of course you do." I smiled reassuringly at Georgie, but my heart flipped.

  The storm had passed hours ago. Well, passed enough that if Jake and Stuart were sitting it out somewhere safe, then they should have been back by now. "Maybe they sat the storm out and fell asleep. The sun will be up in a few more hours, and I'm sure they're going to walk back in here, laughing at how silly they were."

  "I hope so." I leaned over Dawn and gave Georgie a hug.

  * * *

  Matt led the way to Blake's office, and I shuffled after him. Sam had left his camera in the studio with Georgie, and he walked behind me, sipping a cup of coffee. I'd finished mine in the studio.

  I looked at Sam over my shoulder, getting the creepy feeling we were being watched.

  "Did anybody ever get through to the police?" I asked, my brain cells waking as the coffee did its thing.

  "Yes, I
did," replied Matt. "I spoke to Blake about the phone situation here and how the cables were missing. He said he had spare ones in his office we could use. Thankfully, he did find one, and we got the phone system up and running quickly. I used it to call Sergeant Ed Helms and informed him about this evening's events. Wes never got through to him earlier. However, the Westport police have had a very eventful evening. There was a really bad accident on the highway, six cars and a truck involved. Sadly, quite a few deaths. But after telling him about Wes, he moved pretty quickly. He's getting in contact with the police in the city to see if they can get the helicopter up here. The road is still cut off, and there's no other way for him to get in. Apparently, he's quite happy with what we've done so far, but he's really concerned about everyone's safety. Especially when I told him Jake and Stuart were still missing."

  I didn't like the sound of that. They had to be asleep somewhere. I didn't want to have to tell Georgie we'd found Stuart the same way we had Wes.

  "How long until they get here?" asked Sam.

  "I don't know. The helicopter was being used on the south coast, so it could take a while longer yet."

  I sighed. Tonight had already been long enough.

  Reaching Blake's office, we walked in. Well, walked in as far as the mess would allow. I did wonder what Fire Safety would have to say about it.

  The office had no outside windows. There was a small desk. I think it was timber, but that was only because I could see a small piece of the leg. The surface of it held a computer, a keyboard and mouse, computer parts, cables, power leads… You name it, it was on the desk.

  The room was tiny, only about two meters square. There was a small walkway to the desk that meant I could actually put one foot in front of the other, but otherwise, the room was overflowing with boxes and what I would describe as junk.

  Blake was exactly what I had expected. He looked to be in his twenties, was short, like just-over-five-foot short. He had a mop of brown, curly hair, and his glasses were on the desk next to him. He wore jeans two sizes too big, a T-shirt that advertised The Big Bang Theory, and had the distinct imprint of a keyboard on his face. My guess was he'd fallen asleep at his desk again.