Chapter 9 Jo
Jo
Now that the hotel’s second floor was a possible hot zone, and the employee parking lot was an active crime scene swarming with state police, the closed-down restaurant seemed like the serene eye in the center of a hurricane.
Jo sat in the empty dining room with Karen O’Brien’s housemates, Andrei Petrov and Hannah Murray, both of whom looked shell shocked after hearing the news of Karen’s death.
Hannah was in her mid-fifties, with dull brown hair and gray roots that were badly in need of a salon’s attention, and she had the weary face of a woman for whom life had not been easy.
“The last time I saw Karen was yesterday morning, at our cottage,” Hannah said. “I was just leaving for my shift.”
“And you didn’t see her here, at work?” asked Jo.
“No. But I’m on the guest floors and she worked here, in the restaurant. The only time we saw each other was at the cottage. Plus, we’re on different shifts. I work during the day, and Karen usually works dinner hours, so we’re like ships passing in the night.”
“According to the restaurant, she left work at ten thirty last night, after delivering a room service meal. Which meant she should have gotten home around eleven. Did you notice that she never arrived?”
“No. I’m in bed by ten. I would have been asleep by then.”
“Tell me about her personal life. Was she seeing anyone romantically?”
“I doubt it. But it’s not as if I really got a chance to know her. This is just a seasonal job. I was hired only a few months ago.”
“Well, what do you know about Karen?”
Hannah took a long time answering. She looked at Andrei, and the two of them gave a simultaneous sigh. “I know she could have been a lot nicer,” said Hannah. “Especially to Andrei. This is his first time in America. I’d hate to have him think we’re all unkind.”
“Unkind in what way?”
“Karen was always making snide comments about foreigners. About how they’re taking our jobs. And there were other things she said. Personal digs.”
“What do you mean?”
A look passed between Hannah and Andrei, and she placed her hand on his arm, like a mother comforting her child. “They were uncalled for,” said Hannah.
“She says people like me go to hell,” said Andrei, his pale cheeks reddening.
He stared down, unable to meet Jo’s gaze.
Jo didn’t ask what he meant by people like me.
She wondered how many times Andrei, with his delicate features and timid gaze, had heard such insults. The world was cruel to the vulnerable.
“Oh, she said far worse things to poor Andrei,” said Hannah, protectively draping her arm over his shoulders. “We both just stayed out of her way.”
“It sounds like she might have made enemies.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. But I can’t name any. Like I said, we hardly spoke. I don’t even know if she had any family.”
“We’ll find that out.” Jo closed her notebook. “Since this is a major crime, the state police will take over the investigation. They’ll want to talk to you as well.” Jo stood up to leave.
“Do you think we’re safe?” Hannah asked. “Because I certainly don’t feel safe. Some of us are talking about quitting. Could he—could the killer still be here?”
It was a reasonable question, one that Jo couldn’t answer. All she could tell them was the truth.
“I don’t know.”