On the Wings of Murder Read online

  “Are there any other cameras in that hall?” she asked.

  “Yeah, there’s one more by the stairs. Hold on a sec.”

  Once again, they managed to find her grandmother, but this time she walked right past the camera and kept going. Ellie groaned.

  “That’s it,” he said. “We can keep checking the cameras on the other floors, if you would like, in case she went up the stairs. Are you sure that she doesn’t have any friends staying here?”

  “Quite sure. She must be confused about what floor our room was on. Her key wouldn’t work for any other rooms, would it?”

  “No, no way she could’ve unlocked another door.”

  “Look, there’s someone else,” Ellie said, looking at the screen. There was a cleaning lady, pushing a cart down the hall in the same direction her grandmother had gone.

  In their first stroke of luck that evening, the cleaning lady on the camera was still working the last ten minutes of her shift. Billy managed to track her down over the hotel's walkie-talkie system and asked her to come to the security room. She was a pretty woman, maybe about a decade younger than Ellie. She looked tired, and her first words explained why.

  “What is it, Billy?" she said. "I'm at the end of a ten-hour shift. This had better be important.”

  “We're looking for my grandmother,” Ellie said. The woman looked over at her with surprise, as if she had just noticed that she was there.

  “Okay—I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude—but how can I help with that?”

  “I think you might have passed her by as she was trying to go into the wrong room,” Ellie said. “Show her, Billy.”

  He rewound the footage until it showed her grandmother walk by. A minute later the cleaning lady appeared. He turned back to face the woman.

  “Do you remember her, Sandra?” he asked.

  “Billy, I’ve cleaned about a hundred rooms today. This is Florida. Half the people in the state look like her.” She glanced at Ellie. “No offense, but it’s true. What floor is this?”

  “It’s the second floor.” Billy said. “A little bit over two hours ago.”

  Sandra's eyes narrowed. “Hold on, I think I do remember something. There was a little old lady whose key wasn’t working. She stopped me and asked me if I could let her into her room.”

  “That must have been her,” Ellie said, closing her eyes with relief. “She had the wrong floor. Our room is one floor up. Do you remember which room it was?”

  “I think so.” The woman paled. “I might lose my job over this. We aren’t supposed to let anyone into a room without verifying their identity, but she was so old and seemed so helpless. I just helped her without thinking.”

  “It's okay, Sandra,” Billy said. “As long as everything turns out all right, I'm sure Miss Ellie here won't take anything up with the management. You were just trying to help her grandmother.” He looked over at Ellie, who nodded. She didn't want to get anyone in trouble. She just wanted to find her grandmother.

  Sandra led them up the stairs to the second floor. She hesitated in front of one room, then shook her head and walked to the next. Ellie knew it was the right one; it was room 207. Just one floor off from their own room.

  “This is it,” Sandra said. “Let's see if she's in there.”

  Billy stepped forward and knocked on the door. Ellie waited, but there was no reply. Billy nodded to Sandra, who swiped the key card she’d pulled from her pocket. The light lit up green, and she pulled it open. She looked inside, and Ellie saw her face pale.

  "Oh… Oh my."

  Ellie didn't have time to be gentle; she pushed the woman aside. What seemed like all the blood in her head rushed elsewhere when she saw what was inside. Lying face down in a pool of blood on the floor was a body.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Nonna

  Ann Pacelli turned her face up to the sky, enjoying the weak sunlight that filtered through the clouds. In fact, she was glad for the clouds; she didn’t like to think what a sunburn would do to her skin. I’ll have to only enjoy the sun in small bursts at first if I move down here, she thought.

  “So, how is everyone in Kittiport?” Gerry asked as Ann raised her drink to her lips—a virgin piña colada since her doctor had recently forbidden alcohol. They were sitting at the bar by the pool. Soon they would be going to a play put on by a local volunteer group, and after that it would be time for her to head back to the hotel. She could already tell that she was going to sleep well that night.

  “As I'm sure you heard, Margie passed away two months ago,” Ann said, deciding to get the sad news out of the way first. “Her husband is in hospice, and the doctors are thinking he doesn’t have long left. Mary Sue fell down and broke her hip and can't live alone anymore. Thank goodness her daughter was able to take her in. Other than that, most everyone is doing well, though more of our friends have decided to make the move to assisted living.”

  “I can tell by your tone that you still don’t like the idea of having someone help you with your daily life,” Gerry said, smiling. “How are you getting along in that big, old house on your own?”

  “Well, I'm not alone anymore,” she pointed out. “Ellie moved in with me last year, after Arthur passed away.”

  “Oh, that's right. I didn't realize that she was still living with you. For some reason, I thought that was only temporary. How is it working out?”

  “It's wonderful to have her there. She is such a dear, and she has done so much with her grandfather’s pizzeria. Art loved that place, and I think he would be happy to know that it’s in her hands now. Sometimes I worry that she only stays in that old house because of me. However, the fact is, unfortunately, that I do need someone there with me.” She sighed, and then bit the bullet and told her friend about her own accident a couple of months ago. A broken arm was nothing to laugh about for someone their age. She hadn’t mentioned it in a letter purely out of embarrassment, but it didn't feel right to keep it from her friend in person.

  “Wow, Ann, I had no idea. You got lucky, I hope you know that.”

  “I do. It was so frightening, lying at the bottom of the stairs waiting for Ellie to find me. I was certain I was going to die. In a way though, the accident might have been good for me. It made me realize that I'm not ready to let go yet. I’m not ready to stop living life, even though Art is gone and things have been getting more and more difficult.” She smiled. “I've actually been thinking about trying to travel more. Maybe I could come down here once or twice a year. You know I always wanted to have a beach house somewhere, but Art was so in love with Kittiport that I knew moving was out of the question.”

  “Are you telling me that you might move down here?” her friend asked. “Ann, that's a wonderful idea. I think you would love everything about this area. I know that it's a little bit of a silly cliché, but Florida, especially this area, is just so friendly to the elderly. The nice weather is a big part of it. You can’t tell me that you enjoy trudging through all that snow that Maine gets every year. You know, even my family likes it better down here; I think they’ve visited me more times here at the condo in the past couple of years than they did in the whole decade before I moved.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t move down here permanently. I’ve lived in Maine my entire life. My roots are there, that's not going to change. I was thinking maybe just a few months out of the year. Maybe over winter, like you said. Cold can't be good for my old bones, and at this age, a sneaky patch of black ice could really do me in.”

  “There are a couple of condos in the community that are for sale,” her friend said. "We can take a look at them later this week if you like. It's not quite assisted-living, which I know you don’t want, but it's a lot safer than living on your own. There are people who will check on you if they don't hear from you, and you can hire other people to bring your groceries, take you shopping, or even just drive you around town. A lot of the people that live here don’t have cars. Really, you should consider it. We woul
d love to have you down here. We could enjoy our golden years together.”

  “Imagine us, a group of old friends hitting the streets of South Beach.” Ann giggled, a sound that she didn’t remember making for a long time. She had made many wonderful friends over the years, but there was something wonderful about spending time with someone that she had known for over half a century. They shared memories of a world that was long gone. Sometimes, thinking back to the old days, her heart ached. What she wouldn't give to be young again, and have her whole life reaching out in front of her, instead of stretching out behind her in snapshots of memories like the pages of an old photo album.

  She was glad for the extra hours that she had been able to spend with her friends, but by the end of the day she was dead on her feet. She was looking forward to seeing Gerry again in a couple of days, but tomorrow would be dedicated to her granddaughter. Ellie might enjoy a few hours to herself now and then on their trip, but she didn’t want the poor woman to feel as if she was being abandoned.

  When she walked into the hotel room lobby, the tantalizing scent from the hotel restaurant was the first thing to hit her. She realized just how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten since the cookout, and that had been hours ago. She decided to call Ellie and see if her granddaughter wanted to meet her for a bite to eat before she went all the way upstairs. When there was no answer, she figured that Ellie must either have fallen asleep, or was still out and possibly driving. She left a voice mail telling her that she would be up soon, then shot one last look at the restaurant before pulling her key card out. She was almost certain that there were some leftovers from her dinner the night before in the mini fridge; she would make do with that.

  Ann stepped into the elevator. She hesitated for just a second, then she pressed the button for the second floor. She wished the key cards had room numbers on them; it would be so helpful for people like her who didn’t always have the best memory. She supposed that it was safer for the cards not to have a number in the case that they got lost, but it didn’t do much to help if she got lost.

  At least she was pretty sure that she knew the right number now. It was room 207. She remembered it because Art’s birthday had been on November seventh, and she had made the mental connection when Ellie told her the number. Those sorts of little tricks had been helping her keep a lot of things straight lately.

  When she found the right room and inserted the key card, the light blinked red. Frowning, she tried again. Still red. She tried to open the door just in case the little light was broken, but it didn't work. Darn it, she thought. Why isn’t this thing working? She hated all of this modern technology sometimes. What was wrong with a good old metal key? With a sigh, she raised her fist to knock on the door. Ellie must have been sleeping, because no one opened it.

  She heard a noise behind her and turned to find a pretty woman dressed in the hotel uniform. There was nothing for it; she would have to ask for help, even though it was something that she hated doing. She was eighty-five years old, she should be able to take care of herself.

  “Pardon me miss, but my room key doesn't seem to be working. Is there any way you can help?”

  The woman walked over. Ann handed her the key. The cleaning lady tried it, and the light blinked red again.

  “Well, it's definitely not working. Did you carry it right next to your phone by any chance?”

  And didn't see exactly what that had to do with anything, but the key card had indeed been in her purse next to her phone. She nodded.

  “That explains it. Something in cellphones tends to wipe the card.”

  “Does that mean I won’t be able to get in?” Ann asked. “Oh dear. I'm very tired. I've been out all day. What should I do?”

  “I can let you in, and in the morning you'll just have to go to the front desk and request a new key. Remember, don't keep it by your phone. It happens all the time; they really should put a warning on the cards.”

  The woman pulled a different key card out from her pocket and swiped it. The light on the lock turned green. Ann pushed the door open and thanked the woman before stepping inside. It was dark and air-conditioned, and it felt like heaven after spending much of the day outside. She kept the lights off just in case Ellie was asleep. After a quick stop in the bathroom, she retreated to the peace and quiet of her bedroom. She opened the top drawer of the armoire, into which she had unpacked her sleeping clothes the evening before. She couldn’t tell the articles of clothing apart in the dark, and she really was very tired. She decided to lay down for a quick rest first; she would get up soon to get changed and heat up her leftovers. Right now, the dark room and the soft bed were calling. She leaned back on the bed, resting her head on the pillow, and closed her eyes.

  She woke up to men’s voices. She sat up quickly, blinking in the dark. Had Ellie invited some friends back? It didn't seem like something her granddaughter would do. Besides, she had that sheriff of hers. Why would she invite men that she had just met back to the hotel room? She stood up and began shuffling towards the door. Halfway there, she heard something that gave her chills. A strangled grunt, then a thud.

  Suddenly seriously worried for her granddaughter, she hurried the rest of the distance to the door as quickly as she could manage. She pulled open the door and came face to face with a man with a scar on his lip and a shaved head. On the floor between them was a man lying face down with blood slowly staining the carpet around him. There were two other men in the room, both staring at her with shocked expressions.

  She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. This seemed to break whatever spell the men were under. The one with the scarred mouth took a step towards her. She noticed for the first time that he had a knife in his hand. It already had blood on it.

  Ann Pacelli thought fast. She might be old, but she wasn’t stupid. As she had told Gerry earlier that day, she wasn’t ready to stop living her life yet. She did the only thing that she could think of that might buy her some time; she lied through her teeth.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said in her strictest voice. “My family will pay a lot more if I’m alive when you make the ransom call. You put the knife down right this second, and I’ll come quietly. If you don’t, I’m going to scream my head off, and you won’t get a penny.”

  The three men exchanged looks, then the one with the scar lowered his knife.

  “Marcus, Johnny, search her. When you’re done, lock her in the bathroom. We’ll figure out how much this old biddy is worth, and see if she’s worth the trouble of keeping alive.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  Ellie leaned against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself. The body on the floor wasn't Nonna. As far as reassurance went, it wasn’t much; her grandmother was still missing, and there was a corpse in the last room that she had been in. What in the world could have happened?

  Billy pulled a heavy-duty cellphone off his belt and quickly dialed three digits. Ellie was glad that he was making the call. She doubted she’d have been able to. All she could think about was her grandmother. What had Nonna stumbled into? And what happened to her? She was still missing, and given the condition of the room, there was no telling what might have happened to her.

  “That’s not… that’s not your…?”

  “No,” Ellie said in response to Sandra’s stammered question. “It’s a man, and I have no idea who it is, thank goodness.”

  Sandra nodded. She seemed unable to keep herself from looking at the door to the hotel room. Ellie wanted to tell her not to look, not to etch the vision of the dead man in her brain, but she couldn't speak. She felt a sudden, overwhelming surge of homesickness. What she wouldn't give to have Russell's arms around her at this moment. Or even just to know that he would be the one working this case. She trusted him more than anyone else when it came to this sort of thing.

  “The police are on their way,” Billy said. “We shouldn't touch anything. I'm going to radio down the front desk and tell them what happened
. Sandra, do you need to sit down?”

  The woman shook her head. Billy walked a few steps down the hall before taking his walkie-talkie off his belt and speaking into it. Ellie turned away from him and took out her own cellphone. She tried dialing her grandmother’s number again, but the older woman’s phone was still either dead or shut off.

  “Nonna, where are you?” she muttered.

  When the police and paramedics arrived on the scene, they took over immediately. After they pronounced the man on the floor dead, they turned their attention instead to the crime scene. As the forensics techs began to take photographs, one of the detectives approached her and Sandra, who were both leaning against the wall outside of the room. Billy had walked away with another of the officers.

  “We’ll speak with you first, ma'am,” he said, pointing Sandra. “You work here, correct?”

  She nodded. He began to ask her simple questions: when the room had been cleaned last, if she remembered what the people who had been staying in it looked like, and what had caused them to open the door to find the dead body. At this, she slid her eyes over to Ellie. “Her grandmother is missing,” she said. “We were looking for her. I——I accidentally let her into the wrong room. She was supposed to be going to room three hundred and seven, and I let her into room two hundred and seven. That was a couple of hours ago.”

  “Can I have a name and description for your grandmother?” The detective asked, turning to Ellie. “Is she still missing?”

  “Yes, detective,” Ellie said. “I’m worried about her. Is there anything you can do? We’re from Maine, and I know absolutely no one down here. If she was in the room with the person that did that—” she nodded in the direction of the hotel room, “—then there’s no telling what could have happened.”