“ That would be nice.” She was upset that her gambit hadn’t succeeded in finding Monday, but it had, she just didn’t know it.
Five minutes later she was sitting on her father’s bed, the door to their connecting rooms open. He sat down next to her.
“ Why don’t you pick up the phone and see if you can charm that clerk into telling you which room Edna Lambert is in,” he said.
She wondered who Edna Lambert was, but she called the clerk as he’d asked and though that red-headed kid probably wasn’t supposed to give her the information, he was more than happy to. Sometimes being young and pretty paid off.
“ She’s in Room 221,” Glenna said.
“ And that’s where we’ll find our man.”
“ How did you know about this Edna Lambert person?” she asked.
“ Walker told me. It was on the news. I’ll go right over and talk to Monday. Tell him that I’m on his side. Then we’ll see where we go from there.”
“ I’m going with you.”
“ No, I let you come this far, but first I want to talk to him alone. I’d never forgive myself if he did something stupid and you got hurt.”
“ Dad, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m going.”
“ No, that’s final. Please don’t make me regret bringing you.”
“ Okay, I’ll wait here till you call, like a good girl.” Usually she had him wrapped around her little finger, but there was that occasional time when he drew the line and she knew better than to try and cross it.
She watched him cross the manicured courtyard to the building opposite. Since the back of the main building faced the courtyard, he would have to walk through the lobby to get to Edna Lambert’s room. She watched his back till he disappeared into the lobby, then she reached into her purse for a cigarette. Three left, she would have to go easy. She lit up and inhaled the blue smoke and tried not to worry.
When Hugh Washington went through the lobby, he felt that old chill run through him-the goosebumps on his arms, the tingling skin-these were the caution signs. He slipped his hand under his sweatshirt and withdrew the thirty-eight from the shoulder holster. He held it easily in his right hand as he slid both hand and pistol behind his back. Better safe than sorry.
He took the stairs to the second floor, silent as a cat burglar. He stepped on the walkway, looked out across the flatland, inhaled the cattle smell and thought about becoming a vegetarian. Then he snapped back to the task at hand and started toward Room 221. His stomach tightened as he approached the room and he tightened his hold on the gun. The door was ajar, sending a sliver of light into the dark night. He listened for a few seconds. Not a sound. He eased it open and was assaulted by the coppery smell and the attacking sight of blood.
He jumped back and grabbed the railing to keep from falling over the side. He caught his breath, groped for command of his senses. His heart was racing, sweat ran down the back of his neck. He was going to have to go in there.
He steeled his mind, flexed the muscles along the curve of his back and rocked his head around in two quick circles, hearing the creak at the base of his skull. Calm down, he told himself, you’ve done this before and you can do it now. Damn good thing you made Glenna stay back. He entered the room, fighting to keep his Italian lunch in his stomach.
Never in all his years on the force had he seen anything like this. The walls, carpet and ceiling were covered in splashes of blood, like a child had slopped red paint throughout the room and his reflection through the red tinged mirror looked like a photo from hell. There were no bodies, just blood-buckets of blood.
He had to check the bathroom for bodies. He picked his way across the room, doing his best to avoid the wet blood on the carpet. He looked down at his new, now red tinged, running shoes and wished that he had worn the old pair. He eased a shaking hand toward the bathroom doorknob, opening it with two fingers. The sound of the door creaking was like a knife to his heart, but the sight inside the bathroom mitigated some of the blade’s pressure. No bodies, no blood, just a normal bathroom, clean and white, a stark contrast to the room he had just crossed through.
Quick thought, call Glenna. Second thought, call the police. The first thought was the most paramount. He went to the phone, called his daughter and told her what he found.
“ I’ll be right over,” she said.
“ No!” he said. “Stay where you are and lock the door. Under no circumstances are you to open that door for anyone but me. Do you understand?”
“ Yes, Dad,” she said.
“ I’ll be here a while, so don’t worry. I’m gonna call the cops and I’m sure they’re not gonna pat me on the back and say, ‘Good job, you can go now.’ No ma’am, they’re gonna nail my black ass to the wall once they find out I was chasing a suspected murderer into their ballpark without informing them.”
“ So don’t call them.”
“ I have to. I want to know who or what did this and the quickest way is for me to be on the inside. Don’t worry, I can handle it. I’ve been there before. Now I gotta go. Lock the door, okay?”
“ I’m locking it now,” she said. Then she added, “I’ll see you when you get here.”
“ Love you,” he said.
“ Love you too, Dad.”
On the one hand she understood why he wanted her out of the way. He was her father. Protecting her was natural, but dammit, she didn’t want to be left out. She wasn’t a little girl. She was living on her own, earning her own income. She lit a cigarette. Life is so unfair, she thought.
Maybe she should just go on over there. What could he say? He’d have to let her stay, to let her see the murder scene and the investigation first hand. But she knew if she disobeyed him, he would pack her back to Long Beach on the first bus out of town. No, she would have to do as she was told and earn his respect.
She decided to take a bath. She took the last drag off the cigarette, then stubbed it out in a crystal ashtray. She went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water, checking it with her hand under the flow. When it was hot, she added the cold. She let the water run while she undressed. Then she padded into the bedroom and picked up her pack of cigarettes off the nightstand.
Only one left. Damn. She loved to sit in the tub and smoke and think and this was definitely a three or four cigarette bath coming up. She went back to the bathroom, checked the water. Too cold. She turned off the cold and turned the hot down to a slow trickle.
Then she remembered her father always had a spare pack in the glove compartment. She smiled as she jumped into her Levi’s, ignoring her panties. She pulled on her tee shirt, leaving the bra where it had fallen on the bathroom floor. She thought about the shoes, but it was a warm night and she liked going barefoot. She went through the connecting doors, picked up her father’s keys from the nightstand. Then she started for the door. She would have her four cigarette bath after all.
She left the room, smiling as she felt the cool tile of the walkway on her bare feet. The rock tile stairs sent little shivers of feeling from her feet to her shins. It felt good. At the bottom of the stairs she started for the car, then thought, one peek, from a distance, what could it hurt. Her father need never know.
She went through the parking lot, glanced at Power Glide and kept walking. She didn’t want to go through the lobby, so she went around the main building, trying to see which room her father was in. The sound of a distant siren pierced the night, getting closer. She ran from the inn part of the complex to the restaurant, where she hid by the side of the building. She didn’t have to wait long.
Two black and white cruisers pulled into the parking lot, sirens blazing, lights flashing. She watched as two officers emerged from each car. They talked for a few seconds, then all four went up the steps. Two held back at the top of the stairs, just in case, she thought. Just in case her father came out shooting. But before the other two reached the room, the door opened and her father came out, hands well away from his body.