Murder in March Page 14

  "I just came from the police station."

  "He's still there? Oh, how awful!"

  "He's going to be there a while longer," I told her, remembering Detective Logan wanted to keep the ruse alive so the real killer didn't get suspicious. Not that I thought Janey was a killer, but she might inadvertently pass that information on to the person who was.

  Janey shook her head sadly. "I'll call Dina and let her know you're here. She's been very upset about everything."

  "Thanks, Janey."

  I waited by the desk until Dina appeared, walking through the doors that led to the restaurant. She looked every bit professional in her black pantsuit and her hair swept back with a comb, but her eyes looked troubled. She came directly over to me, holding out her hand and shaking mine warmly. "I'm so sorry to cause you any further trouble," she said, indicating I should follow her. "I wasn't sure who else to call and after what happened to Mrs. Drummond, well... since you know them both, I decided to call you."

  "You did the right thing," I assured her. "I'll pack up Mark's room and you won't have to mention it again."

  "I appreciate it so much. I want our other guests to feel safe and I can't do that with a suspected killer checked in."

  "He might not be," I pointed out.

  "Detective Logan's arrest says otherwise. It's very worrying." We took the stairs up, exiting on Mark's floor. "I can have the bellhop lend you a hand," she added as we took off down the corridor. "But if you don't mind, I'll stay with you while you're here. I don't want to compromise your safety and I'd like to make sure the room is completely empty."

  I shivered at the thought of someone coming to the hotel room while I was in there alone. "Actually, that would be very reassuring." Except, was it? Surely no one would attack me? Who would they try to pin that on with Mark now under arrest?

  "This is Mr. Boudreaux's room." Dina pulled out a key card, swiped it, and the little light turned green. She turned the handle and pushed the door open, then placed the card in the slot on the inside wall. "I asked housekeeping to skip this room this morning so nothing has been touched yet. I didn't want our employees accused of anything, and I can assure you no one has been in here since Detective Logan and his men left."

  I looked around. Mark was a neat hotel guest. His suitcase was open on the rack, a small pile of clothes folded inside and a laundry bag. A pair of dress shoes were underneath. The bed was made, presumably since yesterday morning since Mark hadn't had the opportunity to sleep in it. A pair of pajama pants was folded on the pillow, but no shirt. A sudden image of Mark, padding around the room, barefoot and bare-chested popped into my head. I blinked rapidly, shaking off the oddly fascinating image.

  A water glass and a travel guide were the only items on one of the twin nightstands. The desk by the window had a notepad, a pen, a half-drunk bottle of water, and a chocolate bar. A laptop bag rested on top of the drawers.

  "I don't think this will take me very long," I said.

  "What can I do to help?" Dina rubbed her hands together and looked around.

  I wanted to tell her not to be anxious, and that she didn't have to worry anymore, when another thought struck me. Since I was already here, could it hurt to do a little more digging? "Tell me what Esther was like during her stay here," I suggested before waiting for Dina to reply.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dina perched on the end of the bed, her hands folded nervously in her lap. "I'm not sure I even met her," she started, frowning. "I've heard all the stories about her, so I'm sure I would remember if I did."

  "Stories?" I asked as I looked around, wondering what to pick up first. It seemed less intrusive to pack up Mark's work items on the desk so I crossed the room and collected the laptop bag from the floor. I opened it and began to add the things he left on the desk. The power cable was there too, although the laptop was safely at my house.

  "I heard Esther was a loudly flagrant dresser who wasn't very nice to my staff. Did you know she made the kid who brought up her room service order cry?"

  "I heard." I had to resist a snort of laughter at hearing Dina's description. I took the laptop bag over to the small entryway and set it down, returning to carry on my collection of Mark's belongings.

  "She really wasn't pleasant to anyone. I don't know if that was your experience as her colleague, but she upset several members of my staff, including my daughter, Derry."

  "I met Derry. She's very nice. It's nice that your daughter works here too."

  "I'm in a lucky position to be able to offer her part time work. She's going to Columbia in the fall so she needs to save all the money she can."

  "Wow! You and her dad must be thrilled."

  "He's not in the picture, but I'm thrilled." Dina beamed.

  "You were telling me about Esther..." I trailed off, leaving her to fill in the blanks.

  Dina nodded. "I have to be honest, if she intended to stay any longer than a few days, I would probably have asked her to leave, myself. Was she under a lot of stress?"

  "I think she was going through a hard time," I said, hoping that glossed over Esther's bad behavior. I couldn't defend it, only try and defuse it.

  "I'll say!" Dina blew out a breath. "She must have really upset Mr. Boudreaux for him to have killed her!"

  I winced and said, "I'm sure the truth will come out eventually."

  "I hope so. I have all my staff to worry about now. I don't want them to be afraid to come to work."

  "Are they?"

  "Mostly just nervous and I can't blame them. I'm glad I'm here to keep reminding them that they're all doing a good job and no one could have anticipated anything like this. It's just a horrible fluke, I hope."

  "How is the room service deliverer doing now?" I asked, wondering if there was anyway I could talk to that person. He or she would have had access to the kitchen and presumably, the location where the knives were kept. Esther would have opened the door to any hotel employee without question. "I mean, the one that Esther made cry?"

  "Jake was okay once we had a short chat. He doesn't usually do room service but I asked him to fill in that night."

  It couldn’t be a coincidence that Janey named Jake as the bellhop Esther had been so rude to. It had to be the same person! "Jake Jackman?" I asked.

  "Yes, that's right. Do you know him?"

  "Only that he's also the bellhop."

  "Yes. He is not assigned to any particular job around here, just fills in wherever needed. He's a good kid. The night she made him cry, I told him this was probably the worst thing that would ever happen to him on the job and not to listen to anything Mrs. Drummond said."

  "What did she say?"

  "Something about him being inept because her food wasn't hot enough and the wine wasn't cold enough. She suggested that he set his sights on applying for a janitorial role."

  "Do you agree with that?"

  "Absolutely not! Jake has worked here six months without a single complaint from any guest. I found him through Halliwell Community College where he's studying hotel management. He's more than capable and very willing to learn every job he can in the industry to give him that edge over the competition. I think he'll be a great hotelier one day."

  "He does other jobs too?"

  "We're a 'pitch in' kind of hotel," Dina explained. "He's been our dishwasher, vegetable prepper, receptionist and even served in the restaurant. He’s very keen to learn all the various aspects."

  "I wonder if I should leave him a tip on behalf of Esther's firm."

  "Thank you, but there's really no need."

  "All the same, I'd like to apologize. He didn't deserve Esther’s wrath." I really wanted to talk to him to know exactly what Esther did say. Hearing it second-hand was one thing, but I might have been able to pick up something in Jake's tone or mannerisms, something that told a different story. Esther's unreasonable personality may have infuriated him enough that he might have done something as rash as return to the kitchen and grab a knife, killing her in a fre
nzied moment. He could also have gotten into Mark's room and planted the evidence. What if he'd stolen my manuscript and hidden it somewhere in the hotel?

  I scooped up Mark's pajama pants and the items on the nightstand, tossing them into the suitcase. It probably wasn't as neat as Mark would have packed, but he really didn't have any choice. I checked the closet and removed the jacket I found hanging there. It was too bulky for the case so I laid it next to the suitcase on the rack. I could easily fold it over my arm until I got to my house, when I could hang it on my coat rack.

  "Apparently, Esther took a taxi to Main Street on the morning she was killed," I said, trying to keep my tone light and conversational like we were two women gossiping. "She told someone the business suite here wasn't operating properly."

  "Oh, yes, we've had issues with the printers all week. Esther seemed to take it as a personal attack on her."

  I frowned. "I thought you didn't meet her."

  "Oh, I didn't. I don't remember who told me that. Staff room gossip, I suppose."

  "It appears she printed out a manuscript but there wasn't any in her room when she was killed."

  "Of course! You found her! I am so sorry. That must have been terrible!"

  I nodded. I didn't need to agree that it was terrible, or confess that I still saw her body whenever I closed my eyes. Instead, I remained strictly focused on the task. "The family might want me to collect her things and ship them off to them," I said.

  "Absolutely. Detective Logan didn't say I could open the room up yet, but anything you need, we'll gladly cooperate and help with. Her family must be so upset. Were there any children?"

  "No, just Esther and her husband."

  "Oh. He isn't planning to come down here himself?"

  "No, I think that might be too hard for him right now and he has a lot of other things to attend to. I haven't spoken to him directly yet, but I told Esther's assistant I'd help out wherever I could."

  "That's very kind of you. I know it might be in bad taste to say this, but I'll be glad when we can put all of this behind us. I can’t wait to get back to the exciting gossip about Miranda Marchmont!"

  My stomach flipped. Not another person eager to find out my true identity!

  "I heard some gossip about that," I told her.

  "I expect you did since you worked with Mrs. Drummond and Mr. Boudreaux. Is it true Miranda lives right here in town?"

  "I don't know. I think that's really just idle gossip."

  "I won't ask you anymore. I'm sure you're sworn to secrecy! Oh, imagine if I met her and didn't even know about it! I've lived here for years and this has to be the most exciting thing that's ever happened."

  "You didn't grow up here?"

  "No, I moved here from San Francisco. I needed a new start and a nice place to raise Derry, and Calendar offered everything we were looking for at exactly the right time."

  "Glad to hear it." I looked around. Mark was pretty neat so I thought I had everything packed up. "I'll just check the bathroom, then I think I've collected everything. I'll do a final check though to be sure."

  "I'll help you take everything downstairs. I like to make sure everything is gone."

  I switched on the light for the bathroom and the fan whirred to life. Mark had a few things in a small, tan leather bag. I repacked his toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, razor, and the small bottle of aftershave I found on the counter before I zipped it up. Complimentary bottles of shower gel and shampoo were in the shower, which I ignored. Satisfied I had everything, I stepped out, pulling the door closed and turning off the light. I added the wash bag to his suitcase, along with the shoes under the rack, then zipped it up and lifted it. I did one final check of the closet, the drawers, and the desk. "That's everything," I said. "I'm not sure where Mark's key card is but I can arrange to have it returned to you."

  "Just throw it away. We rewrite the door code on the machine after every guest leaves so in a few minutes, it will be obsolete anyway. Can I help you with that?" she asked, pointing to the suitcase.

  "No, I'm fine, thanks." I hoisted the feather-light laptop bag onto my shoulder, pulled up the telescopic handle on the suitcase and folded the jacket over my arm.

  "I'll take you back to reception."

  "And you'll call me as soon as I can collect Esther's things?"

  "Absolutely. Or I can get everything packed up and shipped directly to her husband. Whatever we can do to help." Dina smiled, this time, looking more relieved than professional. I could understand why she wanted it over with. It had to be horribly stressful to reassure her employees as well as the guests. At least they felt safe without Mark here. If only they knew the truth! They would probably quit.

  I packed Mark's things in the trunk and drove home, feeling very uncomfortable. Going through Mark's things made me uneasy, and I wished I had defended him more to Dina, but at least no one else could tamper with his things while they were in my custody and at my house. When I got home, I deposited the case in my hall coat closet, trying not to think how nice Mark's jacket looked next to mine on the rack. I went to find Purrdie, and my little cat was waiting for me in the sunroom, stretched out in a patch of sunlight. I stroked her and refreshed her water before jogging upstairs to my study where I left Mark's laptop.

  Before I entered Mark's password, I called Detective Logan.

  "I got a call from the Maple Tree Hotel's manager," I blurted out immediately. It was better I told him now than to hear that someone mentioned seeing me later. "I know you said to steer clear of the murder scene, but Dina insisted I come there and get Mark's things. Apparently, he's been formally evicted from the hotel."

  "I suppose that was to be expected."

  "Can you let him know that I collected all of his things and brought them to my house?"

  "I will. You didn't happen to find any more manuscript pages amongst his belongings, did you?"

  "I didn't see any pages at all. Why? Were you expecting more?"

  "No, but I wondered if there might be another plant to find."

  We finished the call and I opened Mark's laptop. It flickered to life immediately since I hadn't switched it off after he pressed it into my arms before his arrest. The power icon indicated the battery was very low so I jogged back downstairs, grabbed the cable from his laptop bag and jogged upstairs again, feeling breathless from the exertion by the time I reached my chair.

  I entered his password and smiled as the desktop appeared. Mark could only have intended for me to see the footage he secretly emailed to his address so I called up the email program and skimmed the emails. I was looking for the one from the Maple Tree Hotel. It was only a few lines down and I clicked on it, ignoring everything else. A video was embedded in the email and I double clicked on it, leaning back as a video filled the page.

  It would take hours to view all of the footage, even with the limited time parameters that Mark requested. Yet, I had to do it. Mark clearly must have thought there might be something in there or he wouldn't have trusted me with his password to his personal laptop. The idea that he trusted me, someone he'd barely known for a couple months, and only a few days physically, gave me an unexpected rush of warmth. Something I could not concentrate on right now. I could hardly crush on a man currently sitting in a jail cell, even if the door stayed open and his arrest was no more than a ploy to catch the real killer. But it wasn't just that. Even though my business dealings with Esther had come to an abrupt end, I still had to work with Mark. I had to appear professional... but when I was around him, I didn't want to be. I liked Mark. He was handsome, warm and kind. My heart beat faster when I was near him, and not just because I was desperately worried that he was being framed.

  For now, I would have to push those thoughts aside because I agreed with him. The footage was worth viewing and that meant several long hours of examining it. I made myself comfortable, hit play and the digital tape began.

  After thirty minutes, I doubled the playback speed, watching empty corridors occasionall
y interspersed with guests and employees walking in double time. Fortunately, it wasn't too difficult to monitor several camera angles at the same time. When another hour had passed, I paused the tape to get up and stretch my legs. I made a coffee and brought it upstairs before Purrdie climbed into my lap, begging to be petted a while before she curled up and snoozed. I found comfort in her furry belly, rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

  On the rare occasions when Esther appeared, I made a note on my writing pad, recording the time and the camera. Usually, she was alone but occasionally, someone else was near her, although she seemed to ignore everyone. They probably weren't important enough to be worth her attention.

  When dusk began to fall, I had to displace Purrdie so I could turn the lights on. As I stretched again, I began to wonder if I weren't wasting my time.

  Once the time stamp hit midnight, I skipped ahead to the morning. Esther told me she was a deep sleeper and I couldn't see why she would leave her room during the night. I typed six am into the search window and skipped ahead to the early hour, feeling sure I would see her again when she emerged for breakfast.

  My assumption paid off. That portion of tape captured her several times. Although there wasn't any camera covering the corridor where her bedroom was situated, there was one over the landing and she appeared there at eight. I watched her call the elevator to take her down one floor and the camera captured her again, crossing the lobby to the sunroom where I met Mark as he finished his breakfast. Esther reappeared almost an hour later and returned upstairs. A little before eleven, she showed up with her purse. In the lobby, she spoke to Janey; and a few minutes later, she left by the main doors.

  I noted all the appropriate times and cameras before fast-forwarding the tape by two hours. I wasn't entirely sure when she returned and I didn't want to miss it. She reappeared at two-thirty, with a couple of shopping bags alongside her purse, and Mark joined her in the lobby shortly thereafter. I couldn't zoom in so I paused the tape and peered closely. One of the bags looked like it contained a sheaf of paper. My missing manuscript? Why did Esther print it? She'd been vocal enough in her scathing criticism of it to burn it. Unless it turned up, I would probably never know.