“Obviously the resort policy has changed in the intervening years and only men clean the men’s lounge now. It seems that very few people even knew about the door anymore, only female employees who’d been working there back when all this happened about a decade ago. Someone must have mentioned it to Bridget Newhouse.”
“Great,” Ryan said. “It sounds like we’re in good shape, even if she never says another word.”
“Yes,” Decker agreed. “Of course there is the small matter of Chief Laird. He still wants to have a chat with you two.”
“Even after we saved his ass?” Jessie demanded angrily. “If not for us, he’d have been offering condolences to a murderer while going on TV to say someone else was guilty.”
“A point that I will raise with him,” Decker said calmly. “For now, I’ve told him that I gave you both the rest of the day off. Perhaps by tomorrow, he’ll have reconsidered.”
“Thanks Captain,” Ryan said before Jessie could add anything. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Then he hung up.
“I wasn’t done,” Jessie said.
“I know, but Decker’s not the one you should be mad at,” Ryan reminded her. “He’s on our side. Besides, Kat is waiting outside and we have to drive her all the way back out to Peninsula to get her car. Plus, that’ll give us a chance to thank Hugo for all his help.”
Jessie nodded. There was no point in getting riled when they still had work to do with their off time.
“Maybe he’ll thank us too,” she said hopefully. “I could use a free massage.”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Hannah left her final therapy session of the day and walked down the hall to find Merry Bartlett.
It was almost dinnertime and, though she was loathe to admit it out loud, the idea of having someone pleasant to sit with was appealing. She’d even make sure to steer clear of Silvio’s special table.
Hannah wasn’t one for making friends. Sure, she had a circle of girls from school that she’d sometimes hang out with. But none of them were close, mostly out of choice. How was she supposed to really connect with girls who were focused on dates, clothes, and the mall when, for the last two years she’d been dealing with serial killers, kidnappers, murdered parents, unexpected sisters, not to mention a strong desire to do violence just to feel something? It wasn’t exactly food court conversation.
But unlike those girls, Merry already understood that she was damaged, even if she didn’t know all the details, and she seemed to like her anyway. That was one layer of potential falseness between them that was already stripped away. It was an enormous relief not to have her guard up every second.
Plus, Hannah heard that the reason Dr. Lemmon wasn’t at their scheduled therapy session earlier today was due to some unexpected surgical procedure she’d had done. As a longer-term resident of Seasons with her ear to the ground, Merry would probably know what was actually true and what just psychiatric facility rumor-mongering.
Hannah rounded the corner and came to Merry’s room. The door was closed so she knocked.
“Hey Merry, it’s Hannah. Want to join me for a kosher meal?”
There was no answer and she was tempted to just leave it at that. But then her curiosity got the better of her and she checked the doorknob. It was unlocked. She knocked again as she opened it.
“Sorry to barge in but—,” she started before her words got lodged in her throat.
Merry was lying on her bed with her eyes wide open and empty. Even without the blood, Hannah would have known she was dead. She was intimately familiar with that emptiness. She’d even caused it once.
But there was blood, so much of it. Her entire neck was a red mess where her throat had not just been slit, but slashed. The dark, viscous liquid covered her upper torso and the sheets underneath. On the bed beside her bloody right hand, was a large shard of glass, which was also stained red. Her already pale skin was now ashen white.
She stared at Merry for a few seconds, partly in silent mourning, partly in confusion. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be. The cheerful, buoyant girl she’d spoken to just hours earlier couldn’t have then come back to her room and done this to herself. Could she?
And then Hannah heard herself scream.
“Help!” she howled at the top of her voice. “Help! I need help!”
Within seconds the room was full and she was being ushered out by an attendant with a bewildered look on her face.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I came to invite her to dinner and found…this,” Hannah said quietly.
She felt unsteady and the woman eased her down to the floor, where she sat, slumped and cross-legged. Through the doorway, she could hear the attendants talking.
“Call the police,” one barked.
“This is so sad,” another, older attendant said. “She was doing so well. I can’t believe she would do this.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time she tried,” a third said, sounding defeated.
“I’m on the line with 911,” came the voice of the security guard who’d led Silvio away at lunch earlier.
“I just can’t believe it,” the older attendant repeated, breaking into tears.
Neither could Hannah. Even amid her horror at what she’d just seen, something was eating at her, nibbling at the corners of her brain. Everything she saw in that room suggested that Merry had killed herself. And yet something about it wasn’t right. It felt somehow…off, wrong. Despite the dark cloud that was closing in around her, she made a promise to Merry and to herself: she was going to find out what.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Jessie knew Kat wanted to say something; she just didn’t know what.
Ryan had gone off to find Hugo, and a valet was getting Kat’s car, leaving the two women standing alone in the Peninsula’s main lobby. Jessie waited patiently. Kat finally broke.
“Are you guys going to work this out?” she asked.
“Work what out?” Jessie replied, though she knew exactly what her friend was referencing.
“Whatever is creating this tension between you and Ryan,” Kat answered. “I’m assuming it has to do with the whole issue over the wedding. You don’t have to tell me, but whatever it is—it’s reached the point where I’m noticing it. And considering that you guys work with a bunch of detectives, they’re going to start noticing it soon too. So unless you want to face some really uncomfortable co-worker questions, you might want to deal with this. More importantly, you might want to deal with it for, you know, the sake of your relationship.”
“I’m trying Kat,” Jessie insisted. “But I just can’t seem to get through to him. He’s so dug in. It’s really upsetting that he doesn’t appreciate where I’m coming from.”
“I get that,” Kat said. “But let me ask you something: have you ever asked yourself the real reason why he’s so dug in? Or are you just assuming you know the answer?” Before Jessie could reply, Ryan arrived with Hugo in tow.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Ryan said with a broad smile on his face, “but when I went to thank good Mr. Cosgrove here, he turned the tables on me.”