“I, uh, forgot to write it down. I heard from one of the ladies that he’d gone already.” I make sure I don’t glance at Tami.
“Probably a red herring,” Shane agrees. “If Bigfoot left with Larissa and they’re spending the day shacked up somewhere, then he wasn’t around at the time of Viola’s death. But then it begs the question. Why is his mask here in Evan’s room? Is someone framing Evan? Or deliberately confusing us?”
“I don’t know, but let’s talk to Diana Van Dirk. I’m not buying she stayed with my uncle all night.”
We finish up in Evan’s room, and after depositing the evidence in the Tahoe, we descend the basement stairs to the Baja Angel Studio.
“This is a freaky place to put a guest,” Shane observes. “I wonder if there are rats here.”
I stop midstride when I hear a scuffling sound coming from behind a cinder block wall. “What’s over there? I thought I heard something moving.”
“Probably the cat.” Tami jingles the keys. “Someone must be feeding him. I bet it’s the kitchen staff.”
“I wonder how he gets in and out of the basement.” I turn on my flashlight and search the newly laid cinder blocks. They don’t quite reach to the ceiling. “Looks like there’s a gap where he can jump to the other side. Where does that go?”
“The coal bin,” Tami says with no inflection in her voice. “There was too much mess to clean up, and we didn’t need the space.”
“They would have built the coal bin underneath or close to the kitchen with stairs to get to it.” I zigzag around the boxes and piles of building material and pull myself up so I can look over the dividing wall, placing the flashlight up top. “So, the cat jumps over the wall, crosses over the top of the coal bin, and then what?”
“I bet there are rats over there,” Shane says.
“I don’t have rats in my hotel,” Tami protests. “Are we going to talk to Diana or not?”
I doubt anyone in their right mind would hang out in the Baja Angel Studio, which seems more like a dungeon than an attraction.
“We’ll get to Diana, but I’d like to see if there’s a way to reach the coal bin from the dumpster.” I wave the flashlight’s beam in an arc along the far wall. There’s one section that has deeper shadows, as if there are two overlapping walls.
“Are you thinking that’s how the cat gets in and out?” Shane asks, following my lead. “What does that have to do with Viola’s murder?”
“I don’t know. Just wondering how the cat gets in if the basement is supposedly locked.”
“Broken window? Grate? I don’t see anything,” Shane says, dropping back to the ground. “Let’s go see what Diana’s up to, and then we need to search Viola’s car.”
Unfortunately, Diana doesn’t answer her door, and Tami isn’t opening up without a search warrant. I understand why. She wouldn’t want to get sued for violating someone’s constitutional rights.
“There isn’t a Do Not Disturb sign on the door,” Shane observes. “Maybe we can ask the maids if she dirtied any towels.”
“Good idea. While Tami and I find the maids, Shane, you should find my uncle. Maybe Diana is with him.”
“Okay, boss.” Shane retreats up the creaky basement stairs.
Once we’re alone, Tami melts into my arms, leaning her face against my chest.
“I’m so stressed,” she says. “Thinking the murderer is lurking and waiting to strike again.”
“Or he’s long gone.” I kiss the top of her head to comfort her. “Let’s go to the dumpster and see if there’s a chance the cat can get from here to there.”
“Why would it matter?” Tami asks. “Cats can fit into the narrowest openings.”
“So can ghosts.”
“You’re kidding.” Tami’s tone is sharp, showing she’s not amused.
“I didn’t finish. You said the guy who pushed you into Viola was not bulky, right?”
“I would say solid, but on the thin side,” Tami concurs. “Are you thinking?”
“I’m the only one who believes that someone else was involved. Right now, Shane thinks you made it up, either because you were hysterical, or that you are the one who killed Viola.”
“He really believes that?” Tami’s voice sharpens. “How can he?”
“I don’t know what he believes, but he can make the case and bring it to the grand jury. All he needs is a motive and to tie you to that baseball bat Evan was carrying around.”
“Are you saying Evan did it? And that’s why he’s gone?”
“He’s high on the list, Tami. He would know of any secret passageways. He is acquainted with Viola. All we’re missing is a motive, and the motive could involve you.”
“Me? No way.”
I have my theory, but I keep it to myself. What if Viola knew about the packet of naked Tami pictures, and she was blackmailing Evan? Someone searched his room. Could she have been caught searching? Then Evan asked her to meet him at the dumpster, or had he sent Molly to do the dirty work while he left to go to San Francisco?
Molly could have pushed Tami onto the body, then snuck back into the hotel, ran upstairs, and changed in the control room. Maybe what Tami saw was a witch all in black. The hard object prodding into her backside was the police baton.
We climb the stairs out of the basement, then take the service corridor through the kitchen and out the service entrance to the loading dock and dumpster area.
“Show me where the cat disappeared.” I run the flashlight beam along the wall where pallets are stacked.
“The corner behind the dumpster.”
I pick up the crime scene tape and wedge my way between a pile of pallets and the dumpster. I’m a big guy, so it’s hard for me to fit, but when I shine my flashlight, I notice one section of the wall is closer than the other section, indicating a narrow passageway.
“I think I found it.” I give the dumpster a shove to move it away from the wall. “There it is. It’s big enough for a man to get through, although he would have to bend over.”
“Can you get through?” Tami looks speculative.
I turn sideways and squeeze myself behind the dumpster, but when I get to the opening, I have to bend down. Bending down makes me bulkier, and since I have to go sideways, I can’t go further.
“Doesn’t look like I can, but it’s easy for a cat or a woman.”
“Not one with big breasts,” Tami observes. “Let me try. On second thought, Molly could definitely fit.”
“Right, so could Diana, even though she’s taller, her shoulders aren’t that wide.”
“What are you saying?” Tami gasps. “That the killer is Molly or Diana because they’re small enough to fit through a gap?”
“The security tapes don’t show anyone coming between the time Viola showed up and you. Which, according to Shane, makes you a suspect.”
“But if the killer came in and out through this little hole, they could have surprised Viola and then got away.” Tami shakes my arm. “Now you believe me? That someone else was here?”
I use my flashlight to peer into the gap. “No bloody footprints in there, but plenty where the body was found.”
“Maybe he changed clothes or was hiding inside the dumpster or he was dressed as a cook taking out the trash or he had another set of shoes stashed away, or …”
Her suppositions get more and more far-fetched as her breathing accelerates into full panic attack mode.
I switch off the flashlight and put a comforting hand on her shoulder and turn her to face me. “Maybe this is nothing. Usually, it’s the simplest explanation that’s correct. The killer was waiting for Viola because he or she told her to meet here at a certain time. He kills her, and then you come on the scene. He has no time to get away, so he hides behind the dumpster. Then when everyone else came by to contaminate the crime scene, he simply pretended to be in on the fun and games.”
“That’s gruesome.” Tami shudders. “It still could be anyone. I’ll have to review the pictures agai
n.”
“The key is the person who sent the message inviting everyone to come to the crime scene and allowing the killer to get away.”
“Molly or Evan,” Tami mutters.
I don’t mention her, although Shane would definitely say Tami timed the message to go out after she hypothetically killed Viola.
I take pictures of the parallel walls and the gap created, as well as the position of the dumpster. “Just to be on the safe side, I’ll have Shane see if he can get through. Let’s go find him.”
We return to the hotel and find Neil rushing toward us. “One of the guests had a heart attack. I think it’s the mayor of your town.”
“Uncle Chip.” I run through the dining room and barge into the Pickaxe Polly Parlor where Chip was staying.
My uncle is lying on the floor with his shirt open and belt loosened, and Shane is giving him CPR.
“Is he okay?” I kneel over him.
“Paramedics are on their way,” Neil says. “It’s a good thing Officer Donnelly found him.”
“Todd, Todd.” My uncle coughs and wheezes. “You have to stop her. Diana. You have to stop her.”
“Uncle, relax. Help is coming.” I wipe sweat from his forehead. His face is red, and he’s gasping like a fish out of water.
“She took the pickaxe.” He points to the wall where a set of gold mining pans are displayed alongside of an empty hook. “She says she’s going to get the murderer.”
“Does she know who it is?” Tami asks, coming up beside me.
“She thinks someone’s done it for you, Tami. She says Viola had proof of her ancestors’ claim to the underlying mine.” He grasps his chest.
“It’s okay, Uncle. Don’t talk. Tami’s safe.” I’m relieved to hear the sirens. “The ambulance is here.”
“I’m okay, but you have to stop Diana.” The words and spittle tumble from Uncle Chip’s mouth.
“Where was Diana last night?” Shane asks. “Tell us the truth.”
“I don’t know. She was here, but when I woke up, the pickaxe was gone. She came back at lunchtime and took a shower. She was muttering and raving about the Baja Angel curse and how we should blow up the hotel to keep everyone safe.” His face is gray, and he stops to take shallow breaths.
“Uncle. We’ll get Diana, don’t worry. The paramedics are here. I’ll meet you at the hospital.” I stand back while the paramedics fit an oxygen mask over his face.
When I turn to Tami, her face is stricken.
“Don’t be scared. I won’t let you out of my sight.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m not afraid of Diana. She can’t attack here in front of everyone.”
Her comments surprise me, but I don’t have time to follow up. “Come with me to the hospital and we’ll talk.”
“I can’t.” Her brow is crinkled. “The guests. We have activities. Now that Molly and Evan are gone, I’m the only one to run the show.”
As much as I want to protect her, I know she needs to put on a show of confidence. Diana could be trying to scare her so she’d lose business and give up the hotel.
“Okay, stay safe.” I kiss her on the lips. “I’ll come back for dinner. I’ll try.”
“No, go find Diana. I’m surrounded by my HEX sisters. Diana won’t find me alone.” She squares her shoulders and tilts her chin up defiantly.
Shane taps my shoulder. “I’m going to bug the judge for a search warrant for Diana’s room and her house.”
“Great idea.” I cup my hand and speak so only Shane can hear me. “You realize the handle of a pickaxe is the same shape as a police baton.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. If your uncle was drunk at the fireworks show, he wouldn’t know if she left shortly afterwards, knocked off Viola, because maybe Viola had proof against her claim, and tried to frame Tami by shoving her into the body.”
I give Shane a thumbs-up, because the boy is finally thinking like a small-town cop.
“I’ve got this,” I say to Tami and give her another kiss. “We’re going to track Diana down and bring her in. You can relax now.”
Thirty
~ Tami ~
As soon as Todd and Shane leave, I rush to Ma Belle’s Tearoom to find my friends. I’m staying with them tonight because I rented out the Weeping Widow, and I don’t want to go home with my parents.
“What’s going on? We saw an ambulance.” Rosalie greets me at the door while Suzette rushes out of the bathroom with a mascara wand in her hand. “The police are all over this place. Did they find the murderer?”
I tell them what happened to Uncle Chip but leave out the threats Diana made. After all, Todd is handling it, and I have a business to run.
“Have you guys heard from Larissa?” I ask once Suzette resumes applying her makeup.
“No, should we worry?” Rosalie thumbs through her phone. “Why hasn’t she texted selfies with this hunk?”
“She’s usually on social media at least twice a day,” Suzette adds. “If she’s hooking up with Bigfoot, wouldn’t she be bragging about it?”
“She hasn’t answered any texts,” Rosalie says.
“Let me call her. I mean seriously, you guys just text, text, text, when a simple call will take care of it.” I take out my phone and place the call.
It rings, rings, rings, and goes to voicemail.
“Hey, Rissa. We know you’re having fun, but did you seriously run away with this guy? Send us a selfie.” I leave the message and look up to their “told ya” expressions.
“Okay, so she’s gone incognito. Doesn’t mean anything bad happened to her. It’s not like she has any enemies or even knows anyone here.” I sound lame even to myself.
“She would have posted something,” Rosalie says. “She’s all hashtag this, hashtag that. There’s nothing.”
“Maybe her phone ran out of charge. I did get a short message this morning. I hate going through her things, but did she take anything?”
“No, that’s just it. She left her phone charger, wallet, toothbrush, and makeup bag,” Suzette says. “What if the murderer got her?”
“Unlikely.” I open the dressers near Larissa’s unslept-in bed and find her lingerie tucked away. “She left before the fireworks show, and the body was still warm when I found it after the show. I walked in right after Viola was killed.”
“Oh, Tami, we didn’t know.” Rosalie claps a hand over her mouth, her big blue eyes wide.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. The police like to keep things under wraps.”
“But you can tell us,” Suzette pleads. “We don’t know anyone to spread gossip.”
“Right. You must have scared the murderer into dropping the bat.”
“He or she pushed me onto the body. It was squishy and wet.” My shoulders shudder at the memory.
“He or she?” Suzette puts her arm over my shoulders, and Rosalie leans against me, patting my arm. “Do they have a suspect?”
I nod involuntarily. I know I shouldn’t talk about police business.
“Who? I bet it’s that weird guy, Dumb Al,” Rosalie says. “That’s what everyone was saying at the pumpkin carving contest.”
“That’s not nice,” I chastise her. “Al isn’t dumb. He’s just quiet.”
“Yes, but he’s creepy, and he was drunk,” Suzette chimes in. “And he claims someone stole his black sheet, as if that’s a costume.”
“I don’t think it’s him,” I say. “It’s someone who wants to silence Viola.”
“Who?” they both hoot like members of a church chorus.
I clap my hand over my mouth and shake my head. “I’ve said too much. We should get dressed for the Trickvenger Hunt.”
“We’re still going out into the mountains for this?” Suzette says. “What if the murderer is out there already?”
I’ve already had the staff plant treats in the scary venues, and the weather looks like it’s holding up. No rain cloud in sight, although we might get a snow flurry or two.
“The
deputies will be out there with us,” I assure them. “And if Todd catches the suspect, we can all relax. I can’t say who it is because we don’t want to alert them.”
“Oh, goody. I can’t wait to see if my guess is right.” Rosalie rubs her hands together. “Remember, it was supposed to be a contest to win a gold nugget?”
“That was …” I’m about to say it was fake, but I stop myself. “Sure, but you would all have to turn in written responses before the big reveal.”
“Great. Then I won’t guess Al Norman,” Rosalie says. “Suzette, who’s your guess?”
“Order and reason.” Suzette points to her head. “I’m not letting you know what my little gray cells come up with.”
“I’ll announce that all entries must be put in a shoebox before the Trickvenger Hunt.” I tap a message to Neil and ask him to make an audio announcement as well as put up a sign in the lobby. “There. Now, what are you guys wearing?”
“Since it’s outdoors, I’m wearing my Valkyrie warrior costume.” Rosalie swaggers to her dresser and pulls out a fur-trimmed hoodie. “And I’m carrying a real battle axe.”
Suzette sashays to her dresser, but all she has are sequined evening gowns and slinky space-opera jumpsuits. “Is that hunky zombie cowboy going to be around? I’d like to match one of the deputies.”
“I’m a match for that handsome fur trapper from Sutter’s Mill,” Rosalie chimes in. “I don’t see anyone matching you unless it’s that steampunk alien ghost hunter who left.”
“Don’t worry about matching anyone. I’ve a feeling the guards and deputies won’t be dressed tonight,” I tell them. “Visible police presence, as they say.”
“Oh, makes us feel safer already.” Suzette primps her glossy black hair and makes a kissing motion with her bright-red lipsticked lips.
“Good,” I concur. “My groundskeeper also volunteered to hang around, and I’m sure the old guys will be out there with flashlights.”
“What should I wear?” Suzette asks. “That’ll look sexy and keep me warm?”
“You could wear this with a down vest.” I pick up one of the neon jumpsuits and hold it in front of Suzette. “This will work if you’re looking for an alien abduction.”
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