“Oh, honey,” said Aimie, “no problem. Night then.”
Greg took my hand and we walked back to our cabin. I hoped that Emily’s business would be able to get through this unscathed. The closer we got to the door of the honeymoon cabin, the more I thought about snuggling into bed with the covers pulled up to my chin. I should have known that I would never be allowed to go to bed.
Greg unlocked the door and held it open for me. The moment I turned on the light, I froze. Our cabin had been ransacked. The cushions from the couch lay in the kitchenette area, while the plants had been overturned, but that wasn’t what drew my attention. Instead, my eyes focused on the pair of black-soled feet poking out from behind the sofa. I pointed them out to Greg.
He pushed me back outside and crept over to the shoes, stopping the moment he was two feet from them. “Better call the cops,” he said. “This man is dead.”
I hurried over to Greg’s side and looked down. Matherson, our waiter from this morning and last night, lay dead on the carpet.
“Something tells me that Chad might not have murdered me after all,” said Billy, appearing beside me.
I ran to the bedroom. It was in the same disarray as the rest of the cabin with the covers of the bed torn off and tossed aside; our pillows had been ripped out of their cases. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Why would anyone want to search our cabin?
The top drawer on the dresser was ajar. I yanked it open and tore through it, knowing what I would find. The ruby I had discovered in Billy’s apartment was gone.
Chapter 8
Within ten minutes of placing the call, the police arrived, once again, to Emily’s special getaway spot for couples. I watched as the poor woman stood on the sidelines, chewing all of her nails, no doubt worrying about how this would affect her business. This was the second dead body to show up this weekend on her property.
“Did you know this man?” asked an officer as an EMT crew carted out the corpse in a black bag.
“No,” both Greg and I replied.
“Do you know why he was in your room?”
“No,” I said.
“Have you seen him before?” the officer continued his questions.
“He was our waiter this morning,” said Greg.
“But you said that you didn’t know him,” the officer challenged.
“Oh, give me a break,” snapped Billy, beside me. “Just because you speak to someone, doesn’t mean that you know them.”
“Look,” I said, growing irritated, “he was our waiter when we ate at the restaurant last night and this morning at breakfast, but we had never met him until then, nor have we seen him since.”
“A witness said that he saw you and the victim in town earlier this afternoon, talking to the suspect we arrested earlier today,” the officer continued.
I had forgotten about that. “I was in town today and ran into him. I said, ‘Excuse me.’ And that was it. The exchange only lasted about two minutes.”
“Coincidental,” said the officer.
“If you are trying to imply,” Greg broke in, “that she had something to do with this man’s death, you are mistaken. She was with me in the lounge, surrounded by other people, the entire time.”
“Excuse me,” a detective on the case interrupted us and the officer left. “Though I must say that this is highly unusual, the coroner has declared that the man died sometime during the gathering in the lounge. As your boyfriend, and a few others have vouched for your whereabouts, you are free to go, for the moment.”
Greg tried to lead me away, but the detective stopped us. “One other thing. I called the local police department where you live and spoke to a Detective Shorts. He has warned me that you have a tendency to… poke around. I told him that you had been remarkably quiet around here. You haven’t found anything you wish to tell me about, have you?”
I had considered telling him about the possible ruby I had discovered in Billy’s apartment, but thought better of it. I had acquired it by breaking and entering, and it also went missing before I had a chance to find out if it was real or not. “No.”
“He said that you would say that. Detective Shorts also said that if you are investigating another murder on your own, you should stop. Now, are you certain there is nothing else you wish to tell me?”
Both Greg and I remained silent.
“Very well,” said the detective, “you may go.”
Greg and I walked away and were soon accosted by a frantic Emily.
“Oh, my goodness!” she burst out. “I can’t even begin to apologize for all of this. Two murdered people turning up in your cabin! You will have a new room—yes, that’s what I’ll do.”
“We’re fine,” I said. “We’ll stay in the cabin after the police are finished.”
“No!” shouted Emily. “You can’t! You must be traumatized.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve seen a dead body,” I said. That was true enough. I had run into a lot of them over the past three years. It didn’t even phase me anymore.
“It’s good of you to be brave, dear,” said Emily, “but you don’t need to cheer me up.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Greg helped Emily to a lounge chair, concerned, like I was, that her fretting might cause her to have a stroke. I couldn’t blame her worrying. I knew that as she watched guests stroll by, and listened to some of their hushed whispers, that she saw her business going down the drain; and all of it after investing so much money into renovating it.
“I’ll be fine,” Emily said, waving a hand.
After the police had left, Greg and I retrieved our belongings, being moved, once again, to another room. Emily insisted, and there was no turning her down.
“So what were they looking for?” asked Greg.
“A ruby I found.”
“A what?”
“Well, I don’t know if it was a real ruby, or a very convincing fake. I tried taking it to the local jeweler in town, but got there after he had closed. Somehow, somebody knew I had it.”
“So where is it?”
“Gone,” I said. “Whoever searched this place, found it.”
“Could that be why Matherson was here?”
“I don’t know.”
Greg pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I know someone who can find out,” he replied, pulling out his phone. “Jack,” he said after his call connected, “I need some information.”
I could just image Jack’s groan on the other end.
“Look, I need a favor,” said Greg. “Someone broke into our cabin here and we need to know why… No, I don’t know who… Just look up someone named Matherson, who lives and works in this area. I don’t know his real name. And call me back.” He hung up.
“He’ll call back later,” Greg told me.
I noticed him slip something into his pocket, acting secretive like he did when we had first arrived.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Greg replied.
“What is in your pocket?” I demanded.
“Quoting movies now?” teased Greg.
“You are acting a little weird.”
“Look…”
A knock stopped him. We grabbed our bags and trooped down to the door where Emily stood, ready to take us to our new room. We followed her outside into the night air as she waddled before us, fretting to herself about what a tragedy this was. Despite our reassurances that we were fine, Emily continued to apologize for everything that had happened.
She took us into the main building and up a flight of steps to the second floor. Its cozy and romantic atmosphere would make you think that nothing was wrong. We followed her halfway down the corridor where she stopped before a wood door with the number 25 on it.
Emily swiped the keycard, allowing the lock to click as it opened, before handing it to Greg. “I know this isn’t one of our cabins, but I haven’t any more vacant ones. Do make yourselves at home and if y
ou need anything, food, extra blankets, please, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“We’ll be fine. Thanks,” said Greg.
Emily smiled at his efforts to make her feel better and rushed off, murmuring, “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.”
“Now,” I said, placing my suitcase on the bed, “will you tell me what you are hiding in your pocket?”
“I’m not…” His phone rang.
I frowned as he answered it, knowing that I would never receive an answer to my question.
“Jack?” Greg answered, putting his phone on speaker.
“You know, getting involved in a murder is hardly romantic,” said Jack.
“What did you find out?” Greg asked, ignoring Jack’s comment.
“Well, it took some digging, but not much,” said Jack. “Matherson is really John Mathers. The fingerprint analysis that the local PD ran through matched the same fingerprints for a man named John Mathers who is wanted in connection with a robbery. He was a pretty good thief. Broke into some rich guy’s penthouse and stole what is known as the Red Heart. It’s a ruby about the size of your thumb.”
“That thief!” came a harsh voice. I looked behind me and found Billy, who had decided to turn up out of nowhere. “That’s why I took that ruby from him. The thief.”
“You told me it was a paperweight,” I said to him.
“Yeah, well… that was a cover,” said Billy.
“You also told me that you took it from Chad.”
“I… kind of lied,” said Billy.
“What’s going on?” asked Jack. “Who’s that with you?”
“Just Mel,” said Greg. “Will you tell him to keep it down?” Greg hissed at me.
“Hey, I don’t appreciate—”
“Billy!” I stopped him.
“Fine.” Billy folded his arms. “Ungrateful.”
“So, this Matherson guy is really John Mathers?” asked Greg.
“According to the fingerprint analysis,” replied Jack. “He disappeared two years ago, changed his name, got some plastic surgery done to change his face, and was never seen again until he turned up dead at the same place you two are supposed to be having a romantic, Valentine’s Day getaway.”
“Is there anything else?” asked Greg.
“Well, it’s believed that he had two accomplices, but the police couldn’t prove anything and had no leads to go on. The New York police seemed surprised to find him turn up there.”
“Okay. Thanks, Jack.” Greg ended the call.
“Do you think his two accomplices caught up with him?” I asked.
“Sounds like it,” said Greg.
“We need to find that ruby,” I said.
“You lost it!” shouted Billy, causing Greg to jump. He could hear Billy, but couldn’t see him.
“You saw our place and what a mess it was. Someone had clearly searched it,” I replied.
“HMMPPH!” Billy crossed his arms. “First you refuse to believe that Chad had killed me.”
“Which I seem to be right about,” I said.
“And then,” continued Billy, ignoring my statement, “you break into my apartment and steal my ruby.”
“Which you had insisted was a paperweight and it was buried under cheese wrappers,” I said.
“We need to find that ruby,” said Greg. Whoever killed Matherson, must have known he had had it at one time, before learning that you had somehow acquired it. But, if Billy had stolen it from Matherson, how did he know to search our place?”
“I ran into Matherson while in town and he saw me with it. Seemed rather upset about it, but Chad was also there and told him to leave.”
“Whoever has it is the real murderer!” blurted out Billy; his beer belly jiggled as he jumped up and down.
“I hate to say it, Greg,” I said, “but I think Billy is correct; and we need to search the other rooms to find out who does have the ruby.”
“But these locks are different from your normal ones that take a key,” said Greg. “We need the pass key to get in.”
I slumped on the bed. He was right. Without a passkey, there was no way we could get into the other rooms. Also, how were we to make sure that no one was in there? Billy. I turned and looked at him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“You can help us,” I told him.
“No!” Billy folded his arms, his gut poking out from underneath his shirt. “I’m not gonna.”
“But it will mean finding the real person who killed you,” I said. “Even you admitted that it couldn’t have been Chad.”
Billy opened his mouth and closed it again, incensed that I had reminded him of something he had said earlier.
“And you can also help by letting us know if the rooms are empty or not,” I told him.
“I don’t know if I should,” snapped Billy. “You haven’t been very nice to me.”
I clamped my mouth shut in an effort to avoid yelling at him. He’s the one who kept trying to hit Chad over the head with something in some misguided attempt to seek justice. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“What?” said Billy, facing me. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said aloud.
“Apology accepted,” said Billy. He disappeared.
“So,” said Greg, “will he help us?”
“I think so.”
Pop! Billy appeared beside me with the passkey, which I’m sure Emily was racking her brains trying to figure out where it had disappeared to. “Let’s go,” said Billy, waving the passkey in front of me.
“Uh, Billy, maybe I should take that.” I reached for the key.
“Why?”
“I don’t think many people will take it too well if they see that thing floating by itself.”
“Oh.” He handed me the key.
“But, thank you,” I said to him and his face brightened.
We all slipped out of the room—Billy remained invisible—and went to the first two doors next to ours.
“We should split up,” said Greg. “We can search faster. Just keep your phone on.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
I wasn’t sure how many rooms would be empty, since it was late, but it seemed that most people chose to stay up, visiting the lounge or the patio area, unable to sleep after the night’s events.
Billy poked his head through a door. “No one.”
I swiped the passkey, unlocking the door, and Greg went inside. “Don’t take too long,” I told him.
He kissed me, promising that he would be careful.
Billy poked his head into the next room. “Clear.”
Once again, I swiped the passkey and went inside. Nothing unusual stood out to me as I looked at the organized room with the open suitcase in the corner, a few shirts poking out of it. That was the first place I searched, but all I found were socks, underwear, and a few phone chargers. The nightstand only obtained a Bible and some notepads with a pen that didn’t work. There was nothing concealed under the mattress. Satisfied that there was nothing of interest here, I left and found Greg and Billy waiting for me to open the next door.
Once Billy checked to make sure it was empty, I opened the door and Greg went in. Billy beat me to the next one and started jumping up and down in front of it. “It’s empty!” he exclaimed.
Smiling at how much of a thrill he was getting out of all of this, I opened the door and went in. What a mess! It almost put Billy’s apartment to shame. Towels were strewn all over the bathroom floor, and the bed had not been made at all; or if had, the residents had messed it up again. Jeans, sweaters, and a frilly top were anywhere, but in the dresser or closet.
My foot snagged on something. Looking down to see what I had gotten tangled up in, I realized that my foot had found a yellow thong which had, somehow, gotten tangled up in the bed post and a chair leg, forming a snare, perfect for tripping someone. I freed my foot, not wanting to know what went on in this room. Unfortunately, I was about to find out.
; Laughter spilled down the hallway, coming closer to the door. Realizing I was about to get caught, I snuck into the only hiding place I could find: the closet. I had shut the door to it just as a man and a woman ran in, their lips locked and their hands working at a furious pace to remove the other’s clothing. In an effort to remain hidden, I scrunched against the wall, but the heel of my boot scrapped against the bottom edge of the ironing board that was in there.
“What was that?” asked one of them.
“Nothing,” said the other.
I peeked through the small opening of the door. They had moved closer to the bed, but there was no way I could make a mad dash to the door without being seen. My phone buzzed. Greg had sent me a text.
Where are you?
Trapped in a closet, I texted back. Help!
You okay? came another text.
About to get a peep show. Get me out of here! I replied.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Who was that?” asked the woman, pulling up her bra.
The man went and opened the door, but no one was there, telling me exactly who had knocked on it. He shut the door and went back to his girlfriend. “It was no one.”
A loud bang rattled the door; so loud, that it made me jump, almost giving away my position.
Annoyed, the man went back to the door and yanked it open. “Hey, why don’t you…” He stopped speaking when he realized that no one was there.
“Uh, honey,” said the woman, “what’s going on?”
“There’s no one there.”
Before the man could go back to his girlfriend, Billy’s obnoxious voice filled the room. “GET OUT OF HERE YOU IDIOTS!”
There was no telling them twice. Each snatched their clothing and bolted through the door, not caring if they were half-naked. I rubbed my forehead. On the one hand, I had just been saved from being discovered in the closet of someone else’s room; on the other hand, a rumor would now spring up about how Emily’s place was haunted. Not sure if such a thing would be good for business: two murders and now a ghost screaming at guests.
I crawled out of the closet. “Thanks,” I said to Billy. I wasn’t about to scold him for what he did, as he did save my bacon. “Let’s get out of here before they come back.”
Roses Are Red; He's Dead (A Mellow Summers Paranormal Mystery Book 9) Page 7