Chapter 74
Sean checked the time and saw that it was nearly five o’clock, less than one minute from sundown. He wasn’t sure how literal the sundown deadline was, but he had to assume the kidnapper’s threat was serious.
Sean stepped out of the room and returned to the lobby, where the big grandfather clock was seconds from five o’clock. It ticked quietly, the pendulum swinging back and forth, and Sean found himself mesmerized by the motion.
It was rare for him not to solve a case. He was no fool and understood that some things would never be solved. That was just the nature of the job. But to have lost the girl after everything that had happened was painful.
Sean had turned the Bonnie upside down, looking in every room, trying to find where she could’ve been hidden. He had hoped the speakeasy would have been the location where she was hiding, but there was no indication that she was even in the hotel anymore.
No matter how many times Sean tried to rethink what might’ve happened, he kept coming back to the same realization that there was no way the girl could’ve left the hotel last night in the middle of that storm and survived.
All the evidence indicated that Karla was still here and had never left. But for the life of him, Sean still couldn’t figure out where she had been hidden.
Or if she was still alive.
The grandfather clock chimed once the hour struck five o’clock. Sean stood in the empty lobby, save for the bodies of the sheriff and the deputies, and each heavy sound of the grandfather clock ringing in the hour echoed throughout the hotel.
It was still so incredible to him that all of this had happened on a weekend when he was supposed to propose to Jennie. And it had all started with the miscarriage.
Sean had never wanted that kind of shadow hanging over his relationship with Jennie. The pair had been through so much on their own, and Sean had wanted this weekend to be the next phase of their life together. But perhaps this was all life had to offer him.
After the grandfather clock finished chiming, Sean reached for his phone and called Rivers.
“Hey,” Rivers said. “I’m just pulling up to the station now.”
“Hopefully everyone’s behaving,” Sean said.
“I won’t hold my breath,” Rivers replied. “You all right?”
“No,” Sean answered honestly.
“Sorry, boss,” Rivers replied. “But you always told me that you don’t solve them all.”
It was true, and while those words of wisdom were hard-earned, it didn’t lessen the pain in living them in real time.
“I’ll be here at the hotel until the Feds show up,” Sean said. “Maybe I’ll find…”
Sean was about to say “her body” but couldn’t muster up the strength to speak it aloud. Because that was what this was now. It was a recovery, not a rescue.
Rivers confirmed that everyone was behaving in the station, and then ended the call, leaving Sean alone with the dead in the hotel.
Unable to sit still, Sean made his rounds one more time. He retraced his steps, trying to figure out what he’d missed. He checked the pool, the dining room, the library, the parlor, the guest rooms, even his own, trying to find out what had gone wrong.
Sean checked his scribbles in the notebook but found nothing that stood out.
Eventually, Sean returned to the staff rooms, and he scoured both Roger and Chef Luke’s rooms. He found nothing that resembled any evidence that either was responsible.
Sean figured Roger’s confession was a last-ditch effort to try to save his skin. Sean stepped out and then stood outside of Stephen’s room. He walked inside, scanning the cramped space.
The picture of Stephen and his father caught Sean’s eye. He thought of the grief that Stephen had survived after losing his father. But no grief matched that of the loss of a child.
Sean reached for the picture, and when he picked it up, something fell out of the back. At first glance, it was a letter, and while Sean hadn’t meant to read it, a name caught his eye.
Sean picked up the letter, which was addressed to Stephen’s father. It was a termination letter, thanking the man for his years of service, but due to restructuring by new management, it was determined that his position was no longer considered essential.
And at the very bottom of the letter was the signature of Roman Grayson. He immediately reached for his phone and called Rivers. He needed her help.