Chapter 13
“Any other place you’d like to see, Sheriff?” Roger asked. “The basement perhaps?”
Roger was joking, but Sean actually thought it was a good idea. “Yes.”
Roger laughed, but it faded quickly when he realized that Sean wasn’t joking. “Why?” Roger asked.
“Basements are good for hiding things,” Sean answered.
“But we already looked down there,” Roger said.
“Never hurts to have another pair of eyes,” Sean said.
Roger sighed, and then Sean followed the hotel manager toward the kitchen. Sean performed a quick scan, and at first glance, the kitchen looked spotless, the beams from their flashlights reflecting the smooth chrome countertops.
“Basement access is through the pantry,” Roger said. “Mind your step. It’s a steep staircase.”
Steep was an understatement. It was practically a straight shot down. Though he figured the building codes at the beginning of the twentieth century weren’t very strict.
The basement was damp, colder, and darker than the rest of the hotel. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sean passed his flashlight over the interior, but he didn’t find much.
Shelves lined the walls, stacked with non-perishable items, cleaning supplies, and boxes of toiletries. A freezer sat on the wall nearby, and when Sean opened it, he found it empty.
“It’s broken,” Roger answered quickly. “Too big to move, so we just keep it down here.”
Sean nodded, shutting the doors, and then spun around. He spied a pair of tanks under the staircase, and he frowned. “What are those?”
Roger pivoted his light toward the tanks. “Oh, we had some old rich guy here a couple of months ago. He had some kind of lung condition, so his nurse requested we have some oxygen tanks on standby in case we needed them. He didn’t end up using them, though.”
Sean walked over and studied the tanks. There were four of them, but when he shone his light on the concrete around them, he saw a ring of dust about the same size as the tanks next to them. Almost as if someone had taken them.
“You said the guest didn’t use any of the extra tanks?” Sean asked.
“Uh, yeah, that’s right,” Roger answered.
“How many did you originally order?” Sean asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, I’d have to check,” Roger answered.
“Please do,” Sean said.
“Sure, I’ll add it to the list,” Roger replied, unenthusiastically.
Finished with the basement, the pair ascended the stairs and returned to the kitchen. But this time, as Sean shone his light around the space, he noticed a dent in one of the chrome countertops. Sean ran his palm across the dented surface. It appeared to be the only blemish in the entire kitchen.
Sean followed Roger back into the lobby, where the grandfather clock’s steady tick reverberated through the space.
The old clock required no power, and the heavy pendulum continued to rock back and forth; tick-toc-tick-toc-tick-toc, which seemed to move in rhythm with Roger’s anxious tapping of his foot.
“Well, that’s the entire hotel,” Roger said.
Sean looked away from the grandfather clock. He thought of the basement, and then out of pure symmetry, he thought of above them. “Did you check the roof?”
“What? Um, no,” Roger answered.
“Let me grab my jacket,” Sean answered. “If it’s already this cold inside the hotel, I can’t imagine how much worse it’s going to be outside.”
When Sean returned to his room, Jennie had already lit some of the candles the staff had passed out, giving the room a hauntingly romantic aura.
“How’s it going out there?” Jennie asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Sean answered, slipping his jacket on.
“Do you need anything?” Jennie asked, reaching for his hand.
Sean gently rubbed Jennie’s ring finger, wondering if she would have liked what he picked out. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Jennie asked.
“This weekend wasn’t supposed to turn out this way,” Sean said.
Jennie squeezed his hand and then stepped closer. “I’m glad we’re here. If we hadn’t come, then you wouldn’t be here to help.” She kissed him.
“Do you need anything?” Sean asked.
“I’m fine,” Jennie answered. “Go. Find those girls.”
Sean zipped up his jacket and was about to leave but stopped to retrieve the small gun box in the hallway closet.
Sean entered the code and then loaded a magazine.
He tucked the holster into his waistband along his right hip.
“It’s just a precaution,” Sean said, noticing Jennie staring. “I’ll be back soon.”
At least he hoped so.
The Bonnie was only one story, so the stairwell to the roof was narrow and short. Sean was behind Roger, who kept a flashlight on the steps as they climbed to the rooftop door. It grew colder as they neared the ceiling.
“Weather reports underestimated the snowfall,” Roger said, as he fiddled with his keys. “Can’t trust anything those bast—” Roger paused, his back to Sean.
“Something wrong?” Sean asked.
“Maybe,” Roger answered, and then he turned to face Sean. “The door’s already unlocked.”
“Might be best if we switch places,” Sean replied, and then the pair squeezed past one another, the zippers of their jackets briefly catching on one another as Sean positioned himself near the door.
Sean reached for his pistol and gripped the door handle with one hand while keeping the weapon aimed ahead of him. With the door blocked by several feet of snow, it took a few heavy shoulder checks before Sean finally pushed it open.
Outside, Sean squinted from the morning light, the sun reflecting off the snow that blanketed the landscape in a pristine white. Only the trees pierced the piles of fresh powder.
“Oh my,” Roger said. “Would you look at that.”
Sean studied the snow. There were no tracks. If someone had been up here, it had happened before the storm buried their footprints.
Sean turned away from the rising sun and toward the south. That was where the road was located, but it was also buried. “I think it’s going to take Sheriff Johnson a bit longer to get here than we thought.”
The hotel was isolated in the mountains, at least five miles from the nearest gas station, which Sean remembered stopping at for a bag of chips and to fill up his tank.
The isolation was part of the hotel’s charm.
It was presented as a private, discreet getaway, allowing full immersion in the wilderness while, of course, providing five-star amenities for its guests.
“It’s freezing out here,” Roger said, teeth chattering.
“All right, let’s head back inside,” Sean said. “Make sure you lock the door behind you.”
Both Sean and Roger’s boots sank deep in the snow, but as Sean followed Roger to the door, he noticed pink coloring kicked up each time Roger lifted his foot from the snow.
“Stop!” Sean barked, and Roger froze in place.
“What?” Roger asked.
Sean approached the patch of snow around Roger’s feet and then used his boot to scrape some off the top. And buried beneath it, growing a darker shade of red the deeper he dug, was the unmistakable color of blood.