Beauty & Bloodshed

by Stephanie Damore

  “Do you mind if we look through the laundry for it?” Finn asked.

  “Um, Mr. Roberto—”

  “Oh, Louis wouldn’t mind a bit!” I waved my hand, dismissing the worker’s concerns. “Mr. Roberto’s an old family friend. How else do you think we got down here?” I added.

  “Um…” The men looked to each other.

  “Where should we start?” I asked them.

  “I guess in the receiving bins. Here, put these on.” The man passed us a cardboard box of latex gloves. “You never what you’ll find in the laundry.”

  Ew. I know we were looking for evidence, but I hadn’t considered how dirty the hotel’s regular laundry could be. We wouldn’t be turning the black light on in here. I hid my thoughts, reminding myself that this was what I wanted to be doing.

  I had never rummaged through so many towels before in my life. I’d hate to see what the laundry piles looked like when the hotel was at capacity.

  Bin after bin, we sorted through wet and dirty towels and linens. The whole time I was looking around the room trying to see where a body could be hidden. All the washers and dryers were operating, but there was a storage closet. Ian went in and out of it, carrying the rolled duvets a machine repeatedly spun and spit out for him to bag.

  I waited for him to make another run and followed a moment after him.

  “Well, I don’t think it’s in there,” I said, startling him again. “Sorry! I’ve gotta quit doing that.”

  “It’s okay,” he replied.

  “Don’t worry. This basement creeps me out, too,” I said.

  “You should try working here.”

  “I don’t think I could. I swear I saw, well, something in our room’s mirror this morning,” I said, playing naive.

  The man nodded understandingly. “You saw Mariah,” he said solemnly, making the sign of the cross.

  “Is she a, a ghost?” I whispered.

  He nodded again. “Strange things happen here. I don’t like it,” he said.

  “I knew this hotel was freaky. Next time we’re staying at Embassy Suites,” I said out loud and mostly to myself.

  “Hey, Ziva?” Finn hollered. I knew he had found something. Too bad I really wasn’t missing a robe.

  I walked out of the storage unit to find Finn holding a bloody towel. The white towel had been balled up to hide the dried, brown stain. It wasn’t just a spot or two, but large swaths of the towel. Finn peered back down into the bottom of his laundry bin. “There’s another one down here,” he said. “Even more blood.”

  Ian made the sign of the cross again and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he seemed to find a new resolve. “Enough,” he said.

  “What do you mean enough? Has something bad happened here before?” I asked him. Diego eyed us both.

  Ian shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want no part of it.” The man turned and walked out the door.

  I jogged after him. Finn stayed to talk more to Diego.

  “Okay, so I’m not really missing a bathrobe,” I said to Ian when I caught up with him.

  Ian looked at me surprised.

  “I witnessed an attack a couple of days ago from the beach. I was looking back up at the hotel when I saw it, but no one knows anything about it or believes me. There isn’t even a victim.”

  Ian stared at me.

  “But I know what I saw, and I can’t let it go.”

  “Strange things happen here. Unexplainable things. I don’t know what else to tell you.” Ian turned and I let him go.

  Finn met me back in the hallway.

  “What’s Diego’s story?” I asked.

  “He wasn’t concerned. He said to just toss the towels.”

  “What?! They don’t have some sort of protocol?”

  “I think that is the protocol.”

  I took a steadying breath to gather my thoughts. All we had were some bloodied towels in the hotel laundry room.

  “Let’s see if we can take the towels with us. At least have some sort of evidence, and then continue our search.”

  Diego looked at us like we were out of our minds, but let us bag the towels and take them with us.

  Next up we checked the boiler room. It was a bust. We didn’t find a body, and there was so much dirt and debris on the stone floor that, even with the black light, it was impossible to discern if any of it was evidence.

  “The freezer?” I asked Finn as we made our way back up the steps to the hotel’s main floor.

  “Let’s do it.”

  We cut back through the lobby, meeting my aunt’s eyes for a moment. I nodded, hoping to convey that we found something but didn’t dare hold up the bag of bloodied towels. I had a feeling that wouldn’t have gone over well seeing the lobby was filled. Vacationers may have fled, but a new wave of hotel guests were coming in—residents. Those who could afford to were renting out hotel rooms in the much safer, stonewalled hotel. Now I saw why Mr. Roberto was hesitant to cut the staff back. He must’ve known this was going to happen.

  We walked through the restaurant and snuck back into the kitchen as stealthy as possible. The front of the house wasn’t all that busy, and the workers that were in the kitchen were focused on meal prep.

  The freezer wasn’t hard to find. The thing was gigantic. Finn propped the door open with a box of bananas and we walked in. I shivered at the change in temperature and tugged my lightweight sweater tighter around me. The walk-in freezer was about the size of a small shipping container. Stacked on the shelves were boxes of frozen vegetables, milk crates, and gallons of ice cream.

  Mmmm, ice cream. I wondered if any of it was mint chocolate chip. I also wondered if anyone would notice if a five-gallon bucket went missing. Too bad it wouldn’t fit in our mini fridge upstairs. Although I suppose I could store it in the floor’s ice chest. We now knew those were clear.

  Finn shined the black light on the floor. “Look at this,” he said. A thin line of white residue made a trail across the tile. It almost looked like flour. Finn touched the sample, rubbing it between his fingers and then smelled it.

  “It’s lime,” he said.

  My head darted back and forth as I scanned the long metal shelves for another clue. Of course, my eyes landed on the trays of custard tarts. Topped with fresh fruit and drizzled with chocolate, they looked divine. You would’ve never known I ate two mallorcas just a couple of hours bootago. I probably couldn’t sneak a five-gallon bucket of ice cream out, but maybe we could take a few of these to go. I was contemplating which ones I’d like to sample when a dress shoe caught my eye. The appendage was sticking out at an odd angle from a rolled-up plastic sheet. That’s not natural, I thought. Funny, it was the angle of the foot and not the fact that a dead man was connected to it in the freezer that had me questioning the situation.

  “Babe,” I said to Finn, pointing to the dead guy.

  “That’s definitely not Carmen,” Finn replied.

  “Who do you think it is?”

  I looked down closer to see if I recognized the man. He had dark hair and a full beard, and he was dressed in business attire. A scalloped gash, almost like an imprint, was cut into his forehead.

  “It’s like a wave,” Finn said.

  “I know,” I replied.

  The door to the freezer slammed shut. I bolted up from my crouched position. We were alone. Finn and I dashed for the door, but it was locked.

  “Son of a—” Finn said.

  “Look for a lock release,” I instructed my hubby, surprised at how calm I sounded. Maybe it’s because I remembered all the desserts stacked on the trays behind us. Their chocolate and custardy goodness were calling to my nerves, calming them. If I was going to die in a freezer, I would go down in a mess of gluttony goodness.

  There was no lock release.

  I shivered and looked around for another way out.

  “We’re trapped.” Finn expressed my thoughts out loud.

  “Is this the ‘for worse’ part of our vows? I
know I said until death do us part, but I was really hoping we’d make it through our honeymoon,” I said.

  “Babe, with you, I knew it would be risky,” Finn joked back. I found his response funnier than I should have.

  “Custard?” I asked, walking over to the tray of tarts. Finn eyed the dead guy. “Death cooties don’t apply to dessert,” I informed him.

  “Wait, I have an idea. Grab those baking sheets,” Finn said. “We can bang them on the door. If we make enough noise, someone in the kitchen is bound to hear us.”

  Finn did have a point. The kitchen was right around the corner.

  So that’s what we did. Banging metal on metal until our ears rang. The sound was so deafening, it was enough to wake the dead. Well, almost.

  “What were you guys doing in the freezer?”

  The detective eyed Finn and I suspiciously. Honesty would not be the best policy in this case. I felt chilled and it had little to do with spending the last hour in a freezer with a dead guy. Thankfully, Carrie Anne, the head chef, had come down to retrieve tonight’s dessert selection and found the two of us. I’d hate to think how long we would’ve been stuck in there if we had investigated after dinner.

  “Well?” the detective asked, waiting for our answer.

  “Um, I had a hankering for ice cream, so we thought we’d check the freezer,” I blurted out.

  The cop didn’t buy it. “Why don’t you guys come with me...” the man started to say.

  I had no idea how much the trip to the police station would cost us, and I didn’t want to spend our life savings trying to find out.

  “Okay, listen, listen,” Finn interrupted. “My wife is just embarrassed. It’s our honeymoon.” Finn held up his newly ringed finger for emphasis. “And we were feeling frisky, and I dared her to get busy with me in the freezer.”

  “Finn!” I swatted his arm, hard. I couldn’t believe he just said that, but I also had to try not to laugh. I could see that happening in real life.

  “Babe, would you rather tell the truth or spend the last night of our honeymoon at the police department?”

  “It’s true,” Carrie Anne said. “They haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other. You should’ve see them at the breakfast buffet.”

  I eyed Carrie Anne, surprised by her addition to the story. For the record, Finn and I never even ate at the breakfast buffet because we were, well, too busy.

  The detective stared at us. Thankfully I was used to getting stared down by the authorities. Satisfied, he finally let us leave the kitchen area to get warmed up. Finn and I never said anything, but I had a feeling the interview would’ve gone down differently if the man knew we were flying out tomorrow.

  11

  The weather finally broke, and I sat outside poolside hoping the sun would warm me up. I had never been a smoker, but right then, I found myself wishing I had some vice other than chocolate to take the edge off the past twenty-four hours. Looked like I needed to give myself another pep talk.

  I was working on stroking my ego when my cell phone rang. My personal one. It was an unknown number. I looked around cautiously before answering it. If you knew my history, you’d understand why.

  “Hi, is Ziva there?” The woman’s voice sounded warm and friendly.

  “This is,” I replied.

  “Hi, Ziva, this is Claire Sweet. Your friend Izzy asked me to give you a call. She said something about a ghost giving you grief?”

  “Oh … hi, Claire. Thanks so much for calling me. I’m way out of my element here.”

  Claire laughed. “No worries. I used to feel the same way.”

  “But not anymore?” I asked.

  “Not most days anyway,” Claire replied.

  “So, Izzy was telling me that you’re a medium?” I asked.

  “Of sorts. Nothing professional. I guess you could say that ghosts are drawn to me.”

  I hoped they weren’t going to start being drawn to me, too. But in the off chance they did, I wanted to be prepared. “How does that work exactly?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure how it works for everybody, but in my case, my husband, Nick, acts as the middleman.”

  “Oh.” I had no idea what that meant.

  “My husband’s deceased, but don’t tell him that,” Claire explained with a chuckle. “He’s still very much an active part of my life.” I couldn’t even imagine. Claire had obviously come to terms with it, or else she was really good at repressing her feelings.

  I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I said what I had just thought. “I can’t even imagine.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about us. We’re figuring it out. Well, sort of. But that’s a tale for another day. So, you and this ghost…”

  I filled Claire in on everything I knew about Mariah.

  “Do you think your husband would be willing to help me here? Could he talk with Mariah and see how I can help?” I couldn’t believe I was soliciting a medium for help and more so, even desperate for her to say yes.

  “I’ll talk to Nick. I know older ghosts can be reluctant to chat. A bit stubborn, really.”

  “I could see that.” I suppose the longer you were a ghost, the more reluctant you were to hear someone out. “We’re only here for one more night. So, if he does get a chance to connect with her, let me know.”

  While I had been chatting with Claire, Mr. and Mrs. Hayden entered the pool area, claiming a little cabana for themselves. Mr. Hayden playfully rubbed sunscreen onto his wife’s back while she looked over her shoulder and smiled. Mr. Hayden took her smile as an invitation. Her oversized sunhat casted a shadow around their faces as he leaned around and kissed her.

  Piper had also come out to the pool, but stopped in her tracks when she spotted them. I watched her look at them for a moment before turning away and heading toward the beach just beyond the pool’s gate.

  I could have just ignored the situation, but I was never one to hold my tongue. I stood up and jogged after her.

  Piper was staring off into the turquoise water of the North Atlantic Ocean. So many expressions played across her face, and none of them were positive.

  “He’s never going to leave her,” I said after a moment of watching her.

  “What do you know?” Piper shot back.

  “I know that you deserve better.”

  Piper had looked ready to strike back. That is, until my comment left her speechless.

  I looked backed again at the married couple. They were still publicly displaying their affection.

  “I’m serious. You do deserve better,” I said.

  Piper looked uncertain. I hated it when a woman underestimated her self-worth. “I thought I didn’t care. It was supposed to be just for fun but then —” Piper couldn’t finish.

  “You fell in love,” I filled in for her.

  “Can you fall in love with a married man?” Piper turned and stared at the man she loved. He nuzzled his wife’s neck and then turned and raised his finger to call a waiter over.

  “Honey, you can fall in love with anyone. Of course, that doesn’t make it right.” I said the last part under my breath and refrained from saying more. No need for our conversation to turn into a lecture on morals.

  Okay, so maybe I could hold my tongue every now and then.

  Piper turned and faced me. She looked much younger than I thought she was. Maybe it was because she was finally out of business attire or maybe because she was free from Mr. Hayden’s shadow. And she looked lost. So incredibly lost for being such a bright and beautiful young woman.

  At that moment, I felt such uncontrollable need to pick Piper up and set her life back on the right course.

  “I’m an idiot.” A tear fell down her cheek.

  “No, you’re not. Plenty of women have been led astray by a man’s false promises. The difference is in what you decide to do now.”

  “I’d convinced myself that this was what I wanted. James is good to me. He buys me nice things, we go on vacations together, but there’s always thi
s, I don’t know, unspoken secrecy.”

  Yeah, because he’s married! I thought. Instead of saying that, I nodded my understanding and said, “Does Mrs. Hayden know?”

  “I’m sure she does. But she doesn’t seem to care.”

  I wasn’t sure about that. I didn’t know of any woman who wouldn’t be hurt by her husband stepping outside of his marriage.

  “He says he loves me too,” Piper said, as if that made the fact that he was married okay. I was almost positive that he told his wife that he loved her as well, but I didn’t point that out either. I didn’t want to make her defensive if I was going to try and talk some sense into her.

  “What can I do?” Piper’s response didn’t surprise me. I found that feeling helpless and a low self-worth often went hand-in-hand.

  “You make a plan and a promise. Put personal boundaries up between you and James if you can.” Then I had a great idea. “If you’re up for relocating, I might have a job for you.”

  “Really? Relocating? Where? What sort of job?”

  I told Piper about Sugar & Sass, my skincare line, and about our new store in Tampa and the flagship store in Port Haven. “With the rate at which we’re expanding, I could probably use a bright and efficient woman such as yourself on my team.”

  “Really?” Piper looked excited.

  “Here’s my card.” I handed Piper my pink glittery card and not the black and white consultant one. “Email me a general resume, and I’ll call you in a few days to chat. We’ll figure something out, seriously.” And I meant that. I could tell Piper was smart. She was also young and a bit naive, but weren’t we all at some point?

  I saw Finn walking on the beach and I waved for him to come join us. “This is my husband, Finn,” I said, properly introducing them when he joined us. “We just got married, what?” I said looking at Finn. “A little over a month ago?”

  “Yes, and if this is what the honeymoon is like, I can’t wait to see how our marriage goes,” Finn joked, but pulled me close to him.

  “I was just telling Piper that I might have an executive position open if she’s interested.” Piper’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Impressive job titles had a tendency to do that to the ambitious.