“Thank you.” Julie gave her a hug and then hugged Kane. “You’re the best.”
Jenna shook her head. “I hope I don’t live to regret this.”
“So do I.” Kane grimaced. “In case it slipped your mind, all of our suspects were wearing hoodies.”
Forty-Five
Excitement grips me as I check the digital readout on the bedside clock radio. It’s a little after three and I haven’t been able to sleep as my mind plans the next move. The fact the sheriff is aware I’m using a laser pointer to disable the cameras is challenging, but with so many of them being used at the conference, she’ll never suspect me. I’ve dressed in black, a woolen cap pulled down low to cover my hair, a hoodie arranged over the top, to make a shadow fall across my face. I wear leather gloves but will snag a pair of the big rubber gloves from the kitchen supplies to cover them as before. They’re so accommodating here and seem to supply everything I need. My room is off the main corridor, away from the CCTV camera beside the elevator, and another bonus is the hotel doors are recessed. The resulting shadow offers me protection as I head for the stairs, out of sight of anyone passing by. Once I reach the lobby, I’ll use the door to conceal me, when I aim the laser pointer at the camera. Then I’ll be free to move around undetected for at least two hours before returning to my room by retracing my steps.
I’m breathing heavily as I push the release on the fire door and peek into the lobby. The lights are dimmed and only small downlights add a soft glow to the passageways. I aim my laser, watch the flash in the camera and, making sure my hood is pulled well down, ease out into the shadows. The myriad of human smells congeals in the heat from the ever-present log fires. I stop as the flames lure me closer, bringing back vivid memories of sins as a child. I enjoyed lighting fires and watching hunting cabins crackle, flames licking the sky and igniting the forest but I paid my penance after confessing my sins. My mom made sure of it but I must never tell.
All is quiet. With so much snow, everything is silent once night descends; the guests go back to their rooms and then the mad rush of cleaners come out like elves to work from midnight until three, but all are gone by now. The next shift will be the bakers, who arrive at four each morning. I’ve watched and learned their shifts. I’ve a short time to do what I must for the maximum effect. I’m through the door to the kitchens and drop my passkey into the box and select another before making a mental note of the new security code
on the blackboard by the door. I smile to myself—1313 would be funny if I were superstitious. After helping myself to a pair of thick black rubber gloves and changing my shoes for one of the pairs of rubber boots in the mudroom, I head for the door. My thick socks will protect me from the cold. As I reach the exit, I hear someone cough and pull the knife from my belt. This wasn’t part of my plan. There’s no time to think. I step inside the broom closet, ease in beside the buckets and brooms, and then pull the door closed just enough so I can peek through a crack.
Outside I hear voices, a man and a woman speaking in hushed tones. They shuffle past me, bringing the smell of the outdoors with them and trailing snow from outside, leaving wet footprints on the clean floor. How marvelously convenient. My heart pounds as they enter the kitchen but I wait and watch. Disposing of them would be a distraction and spreading their entrails across the kitchen floor an amusing idea, but it wouldn’t further my cause. I let out a silent sigh as they hurry past me, their arms laden with food supplies. They slip out the back door blissfully unaware how close they came to death. If they’d seen me, I’d have killed them and not given them a second thought, but then my plans would’ve been spoiled. I give them time to move away before I grab a potato sack from the pile beside the door and head outside. I’m smiling as my flashlight bobs through the forest. I have all I need to collect a few of the better chapters of Quentin Riggs and drag them back to the lodge.
As I inhale, the cold hits my lungs in a bolt of pain, but the smell of the tall pines is fresh and invigorates me. Snowflakes touch my cheeks like angel’s kisses in a welcome. I am one with the snow. It protects me, covers my tracks, and has kept all my adversaries from leaving before I’d taken my revenge. It will be a memorable night’s work and I won’t need an alibi, for not a soul has even noticed Riggs is missing. I chuckle. “Well, Sheriff, good luck at working out the time of death. It will be next March before you find the rest of him, unless the bears find him first.”
Forty-Six
Hammering on the door shocked Jenna awake. Grabbing her Glock and leaping out of bed, she checked the peephole. Mr. Brightway, his face ashen, was out in the hallway wearing a dressing gown. She threw open the door the same time as Kane burst out of the next room and Rio appeared in the doorway of the girl’s room. “What’s wrong?” Jenna lowered her weapon.
“There’s a head in the kitchen freezer.” Brightway leaned on the wall and dry-retched.
Horrified but drawing on her professional calm, Jenna sucked in a breath. “Okay, Mr. Brightway. Who found the body?”
“The baker, Jeromy Eton.” Brightway visibly tried to keep control. “He called me and I went to look. I thought it must have been a prank.”
Jenna frowned. “Where are the rest of your staff?”
“The bakers arrive early, make the dough and leave it to rise, and then have breakfast before they return to bake the loaves.” Brightway rubbed both hands down his face. “They’re in the dining room. I told them to leave at once and go there.”
“Does it look like the victim was killed in the kitchen?” Kane gave Brightway’s arm a shake. “There would be blood everywhere, signs of a struggle.”
“N- no.” Brightway straightened, gathering himself. “Someone tracked snow into the kitchen, there are footprints to the storeroom but nothing else. The baker just thought it was people stealing again. We’ve had food going missing for weeks. We believe it’s staff members, but we’ve not worried too much. I do supply their meals, after all.” He shuddered. “Oh, Jesus help me, I can’t stop seeing it. The eyes are wide open… just staring.” He heaved again and covered his mouth.
Swallowing the bile creeping up the back of her throat, Jenna looked at Rio. “Stay here with Julie and go tell Em we need her.” She looked at Kane. “Get dressed and we’ll go take a look.”
“It’s four in the morning.” Emily stepped into the hallway. “What on earth is happening now?”
Jenna explained. “Wait here, Mr. Brightway. We’ll be with you in a few minutes.” She hurried inside to dress.
Pleased to see Emily had rallied to the call in an instant, she touched her arm as they stepped into the elevator. “This sounds brutal. Will you be okay? You’re not fully qualified to take this on. I’ll understand if you refuse.”
“After what I saw in the James Stone case, I can handle a severed frozen head.” Emily rolled her eyes. “If I were squeamish, I wouldn’t want to be a medical examiner. This sort of thing doesn’t upset me. I just want to find out what happened to them. I can process the scene as well as Dad, but you’ll need to keep the body on ice, preferably in situ, so he can examine it firsthand. I’m not qualified to make the determination of cause of death.”
“Oh, my God. How am I going to feed everyone?” Mr. Brightway covered his face with his hands. “I can’t legally run a kitchen with human body parts in the freezer.”
“I assume you have more than one freezer?” Kane pulled on latex gloves.
“Of course, we do.” Brightway gripped the handrail in the elevator with white knuckles.
“So, we’ll move the freezer to another location. You have a forklift here. We’ll move it to an unoccupied chalet or one of the maintenance sheds.” Kane shrugged. “I’ll move it. You’ll have to dump any food in with the body, but apart from that, unless the murder occurred in the kitchen, there’ll be no problem with contamination.”
Taking into consideration Kane’s conclusions, Jenna chewed on her bottom lip. “Due to the unusual circumstances, if the murder occurred elsewhere, once we’ve done a forensic sweep and cleared the crime scene, I’ll allow you to send in a crew to do a thorough cleaning, and then you’ll be able to reopen the kitchen.” She glanced at Kane and wrinkled her nose. “Although I suggest you swear your staff to secrecy. I don’t think the guests will be too happy if they find out, no matter how many times you clean it.”
“We’ll be ruined.” Brightway, looked at her, his eyes wide. “What will you tell the media?”