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Snow White and the Seven Murders Page 10
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Page 10
She rushed across the street, her hair flying out behind her. She nearly lost her purse as it slipped down off her shoulders when she leapt into the revolving doors.
Get yourself together, she told herself, resituating her bag on her shoulder and attempting to breathe. She stepped out into the hotel lobby.
Her eyes roved over the lobby that was now busy with weekend tourists. She saw a flash of long blonde hair. The woman had her back to Sara, but Sara rushed forward, barely able to keep herself from shouting. As she neared the woman she called out, “Lucy! Lucy...” but once she could see the woman’s face, she realized she’d been mistaken.
“Do I know you?” the woman asked, her voice dripping with disdain.
Sara backed away. She continued her frenzied search of many faces, but saw only strangers.
Double doors off to one side of the lobby led to a bar and restaurant. Maybe they’re in there! she thought. Please, let all three Smiths be here. Please, let Amir call my cell phone and say he got caught up with work. Please, let him be okay.
I don’t care that I was stood up for my date.
I just want to know that he’s safe.
She burst through the restaurant doors. A hostess, positioned at the door, spoke in a wary tone. “Excuse me,” she said, as Sara tried to rush past the hostess podium. “Would you like a table?”
Sara shook her head, as her eyes widely searched the room. “I’m just.. I’m looking for some friends,” she said. She stood up on her tiptoes and swiveled her head left to right, trying to catch glimpses of the diner’s faces.
The room was large, and it was impossible to see everyone from the entryway.
“Are they expecting you?” the hostess asked.
“No... no, not really. I’m just hoping that they’re here... I... I really need to talk to them.”
“Perhaps they are at the bar,” the hostess suggested.
“Yes,” Sara said. “Yes, I hope so. Thank you... thank you...” She rushed towards the bar without waiting for her reply.
Immediately, here eyes locked on a man with a fresh buzz cut, broad shoulders, and a thick neck. Byron! she thought.
She hurried over to him. “Byron! Byron Smith!” she called out, as she neared.
He glanced over his shoulder. Recognizing her, he turned. “You’re that reporter,” he said.
“Yes! Yes... I’m Sara White.” She was so relieved to see him sitting at a bar drinking a beer, rather than anywhere near Amir, that she almost smiled. “I’m looking for your children,” she said. “Lucy and Davis. Are they around?”
The question seemed to catch Byron off guard, and thankfully he answered without second guessing her motives.
“Lucy’s at the pool,” he said. “Davis is out on a date. Why do you want to see them?”
Sara didn’t stick around to answer his question. Instead she turned on her heel and strode quickly towards the restaurant’s exit.
She’d caught sight of a little sign with an arrow pointing to a pool earlier, and now she headed straight across the lobby and followed the arrow down a long hallway.
Signs continued to direct her to the pool area.
The door to the pool area was locked, and she waited impatiently while a family of five made their way down the hallway and toward the door.
“I forgot my card,” Sara said, flashing the sweetest smile she could muster.
“I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my shoulders,” The wife said, with an understanding grin. “You go right ahead.”
Sara slipped through the door that the wife held open for her. The indoor pool was busy with families, a few couples, and a single elderly man swimming laps. Lucy was nowhere to be seen. She spotted another set of doors that led to an outside pool area, and hurried toward it.
Once outside, guitar music filled the air. The in-ground pool was lit from within, but empty. A hot tub held several canoodling couples, but Lucy nor Davis was among them. There was a small bar on the far side of the pool. Sara ran to it, and was breathless when she arrived.
She spotted Lucy as soon as she neared the bar. Lucy was perched on a stool, sipping a martini and chatting with the handsome fellow to her left.
Relief washed over Sara. That’s two Smiths down, one to go, she thought.
At least now she knew that Lucy wasn’t hovering over Amir, grinning maliciously as she watched her sleeping pills take effect.
“Lucy!” she called out.
“You again,” Lucy sneered.
Sara didn’t have time to ease into a conversation. Instead she asked urgently. “Where is your brother?”
“I’m afraid I’m busy at the moment.” Lucy said.
The man she was talking to caught the attention of the bartender, and began a side conversation of his own.
Lucy lowered her voice and said to Sara, “How is it that you always manage to turn up at the worst moments? You really have exceptionally poor timing. Did you know that?”
“I don’t care about my timing!” Sara said. “I need to know where your brother Davis is. Now. It’s important.”
11
“So, you want to know where my brother is....” Lucy said, narrowing her eyes at Sara.
“Yes. It’s important,” Sara said.
“What—so you can seduce him and marry him for his money?” Lucy scoffed. “Get in line. Half of the women I’ve ever met have that in mind. But my brother isn’t going to marry until he stops working for my dad. He told me himself.”
Sara noted that Lucy’s words were slightly slurred. She was tipsy, and Sara took advantage of it.
“Why would he stop working for your father?” Sara asked.
“You’re the journalist,” Lucy said. “You should be able to use your observation skills to figure that one out. He hates my father. They don’t get along. Never have. Davis wants to quit and move onto his yacht, and party all the time. Leave it to my brilliant brother to come up with a plan like that!” She sneered the words sarcastically, and then picked up her martini and took up a healthy swig.
“What is he waiting for, then?” Sara asked. “Why hasn’t he quit yet?”
“He hasn’t quit because he wants the bonus... obviously. Daddy promised both of us that if we could help him buy up all of the rare earth element mines in the States, he’d hand us a very substantial reward. Davis doesn’t think I’m capable of making it happen, so he’s taken matters into his own hands.”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked.
“I mean, he’s obsessed. He’s become a workaholic—constantly talking about the remaining mines that we have to buy to make Daddy happy. The only time he drops it is when he’s out searching for the perfect woman to take with him on his yacht party tour of the globe.”
Sara was feeling increasingly anxious. Just how obsessed was Davis, anyways?
How far would he go to finish the task of buying all of the REE mines, claim the reward from his father, and then take an early retirement?
Amir is the only man standing in Davis’s way, Sara realized.
She pinned her eyes on Lucy. “Tell me—where is he tonight? I have to find him. Your father said he was on a date.”
“Oh, as usual,” Lucy said, with the wave of a jeweled hand. “Who knows where he took her this time. Some dance club, probably.”
The words triggered a memory in Sara. The dance videos! Davis said that he edited his own. That mean that he was capable of editing the security videos as well!
A knot formed in her stomach.
“Try to think, Lucy. Did he mention the name of a club, by any chance?”
Just then, the handsome man to Lucy’s left finished up with the bartender. He slid a second martini in front of Lucy.
“Here you go,” he said to her. “I thought you might like another.”
Lucy smiled, and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she turned back to the man. “Oh! Thank you so much. I’d love another!” she said with a flirtatious giggle.
Sara k
new a lost cause when she saw one. There’s no way I’m going to get anything else from her, she thought.
She was becoming more and more convinced that Davis was a killer, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Turning to face the pool, she took in her surroundings. The pool was bordered by a cement patio, crammed with as many lounge chairs as would fit. Beyond the chairs was a glass wall that looked in on the interior pool. To the right of that, there was one hotel patio, with a door that led into a suite.
The patio was in the shadows. As soon as she saw it, she recalled that Davis had mentioned that his room was the only one with access to the pool.
That’s his room, Sara thought. Immediately, she left the bar. Lucy was too distracted by her new drink, and the attention of the handsome man who supplied it, to notice Sara’s departure.
That was fine with Sara. She wanted to be unnoticed.
She tried to appear casual as she wandered toward the balcony, and finally she passed the second row of lounge chairs and slipped into the shadows of the empty balcony. A light was on inside of the hotel room, but she didn’t see any movement.
The door into the hotel room was closed.
How am I going to get in? she wondered, as she reached for the door handle. She completely expected it to be locked, and was surprised to feel the handle turn effortlessly in her hand. He forgot to lock it! she thought.
A quick glance over her shoulder informed her that no one was watching. She held her breath as she pulled the door open and stepped inside.
The hotel room appeared empty. She exhaled. Her heart pounded. What am I doing in here? she thought. I just broke in! What if he’s in the bathroom or something! What if he walks in while I’m in here?
Stay calm, she ordered herself. I need to look for evidence that he’s a killer. Then I can call the cops.
She searched quickly and methodically, and soon came to a small black duffel bag at the bottom of the hotel closet. It was partly open, and she caught sight of a length of red rope sticking out of the bag. She pulled open the bag and looked down at the rope. It was cut in several places. Little frayed red strings hung from the ends.
She opened the bag farther. Now that the rope was out of the bag, she could see more items. Folded up white pastry boxes and a spool of pink ribbon caught her eye.
Next to the tags, she saw a bottle of sleeping pills, with Lucy’s name on it. He must have stolen the medicine from his sister! thought Sara. Crushed and baked into a pastry, it could sedate a person for quite some time. What does he do once they've eaten the drugged treat? she wondered.
He probably drags their sedated body to a car, piles them inside, drives off of the property, and stages an accident. All he would have to do is position the sleeping body in the driver’s seat, put the car into drive, and physics would take care of the rest. The bodies were so smashed up that no one considered the fact that they could have been asleep when the crash happened.
Then, he returns to cover up his tracks by fixing up the security footage.
With a shaking hand, she reached for her cellphone and called 9-1-1. Within five minutes, she had reported her suspicions to dispatch, and was connected to an officer on duty.
It took another ten minutes to report the facts as she knew them.
“Please,” she said, as she reached the end of her monologue. “You have to do something right away.”
“We’ll be over shortly,” The officer said. “Just stay where you are, ma’am. We’ll meet you there and take down your statement. A detective may bring you in for questioning as well.”
“No—don’t waste your time questioning me!” Sara said. “Find Amir, first.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, we need to follow the correct procedure. Try to stay calm. We will see you soon.”
Sara hung up the phone. She looked at her clock. It was 9:15.
The sound of her phone ringing made her jump.
“Cinda Rella” the caller ID stated.
Sara picked up. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” she said into the receiver.
“Why? Did I wake you up? Were you sleeping?” Cinda asked.
“No! I’m in Downtown Dayton at the hotel where the Smiths are staying. I’m in Davis Smith’s room. He’s not here but I just found evidence that he’s the killer. I think he’s drugging pastries and staging car wrecks. I just called the police. They’re on their way.”
“Good,” Cinda said. “I hope they can act fast. I just spoke to two more of the mine owners’ spouses. You said to look for patterns, and I found some. First of all, each of them found gift boxes with pastries inside. Also, each of the accidents happened between ten and eleven at night, just like Matt’s. Maybe Abner’s death was an outlier. Maybe the rest of the deaths follow that exact pattern?”
Sara felt panic grip her heart. “I have to go!” she said into the phone.
In seconds flat she had left Davis’s hotel room.
I don't have time to wait for the police to start an official investigation, she thought, as she pushed her way through the revolving glass doors, and found herself back out on the sidewalk. The night air was cooler now, but adrenaline kept her body warm.
She leapt into her car, peeled away from the curb, and started weaving through traffic, squeezing through every yellow light that she could. At last she hit the open road, and pressed her foot to the gas pedal. Her little Camry shook as she pushed eighty miles an hour on the freeway that led out of Dayton. Luckily, she didn’t pass any cops, and soon reached the exit that would take her to the mine.
The road to the mine was free of traffic. She searched for signs of one of Amir’s cars as she drove, but all she saw was open road.
It was 9:45 when she reached the guard house.
A white plastic barrier was down across the road near the guard house. There was a little scanning station next to it, where an employee might flash a badge to make the barrier open or close.
Sara placed her hand behind the passenger seat and looked over her shoulder as she backed up. Then, she pressed her foot down on the gas and gained speed as she headed straight for the barrier. She squeezed her eyes shut at the last minute, but her car sailed through the gate no problem, with just the sound of plastic crunching and breaking on impact.
She sped the next half mile to the mine building.
The front doors to the building were also locked, and this presented a problem.
The desire to find Amir drove her to act. She picked up a large rock and threw it, as hard as she could, at a window to the left of the locked doors. It shattered. She did her best to clear away broken shards of glass, and then hoisted herself up and through the window.
She found herself in the front lobby.
It was fairly dark—lit only by a row of fluorescent lights near one wall. She ran across the lobby, heading in the direction of Matt’s old office.
That must be were Amir is, she thought. Davis always does the same thing... he offers a gift box of pastries. The sleeping pills are strong, and act quickly. He hides the sleeping body out of sight until all of the other workers leave. Once the coast is clear, he drags them to their car.
She reached the doorway to Matt’s office. It was closed. She tried to be quiet as she strode up to it and tried the handle. Locked. There was a keypad on it, with numbers.
What was the code to enter?
And more importantly, what would she do once she was inside?
Davis must be in there with him, she realized, with a pounding heart. Amir will be unconscious. It’s going to be up to me to take Davis out.
She tried to steady her shaking hand as she let it hover over the keypad. Think, Sara, think! What is the code?
Suddenly, it came to her.
Gabby had used a code to get into Matt’s briefcase. It was the date of their anniversary. Valentine’s Day! thought Sara
Please let it be just the month and date.
She keyed in 2-1-4, but a double beep and flashing red li
ght let her know she was wrong.
0-2-1-4 she tried.
Beep! The light on the keypad flashed green.
Sara turned the handle, readying herself for what she might see on the other side. How would she handle Davis? She had no idea.
Instinct took over as she scanned the room. Amir was seated in his chair, with his head, shoulders, and arms slumped down over the desk. Without hesitating, she ran towards him.
Was he dead? Merely sleeping?
Davis stood next to Amir, a look of shock on his face as Sara burst into the room.
“I knew it was you!” she shouted. She reached Amir and began shaking him by the shoulders. “Amir! Amir, can you hear me?”
She lifted her face to Davis. “What did you do to him?”
Davis froze, but only for an instant. He then reached for a gun out of the back waistband of his pants. “He’s sleeping. Just like the rest,” he said. “Soon he’ll be in his car, flying down the road completely out of control. I think you’re going to be next to him.” He had his gun aimed at her head.
Sara’s mouth was so dry, it was hard to form words. She forced the words to come, and struggled to make her tone even and calming. “Davis... think about this. You can’t shoot me. Not here. It’s too messy. You would never do a thing like that. It’s not your style.”
He grinned. “You’re right. You’re going to be a challenge, just like Abner was. I’m going to have to tie you up. Let’s see... I think I have some rope here somewhere.”
While looking around at the ground around the desk, he continued. “It comes in handy, when I’m getting bodies into their cars. You have no idea how heavy a sleeping body can be. Ah! There it is.”
He aimed the gun with one hand, and used his other to lift a section of rope off of the floor. Sara recognized another section of red rope. She’d seen fibers of that very rope in Matt’s car.
Are we going to be next? Sara thought. Will Amir and I die before we ever have a chance to go on our first date?