Holdingan arm out, as if to protect me from the unknown lurking around the corner,Inspector Brodie and I walked into the room, both unsure of what we might find.Would the place be ransacked and destroyed, due to a deadly scuffle? Or wouldwe find it comfortably lived in, as if it were eagerly waiting for her return?Both wouldn’t have surprised me, and both would have broken my heart, but whatwe did find left us both confused and dumbfounded.
Thefour-poster bed was made, with crisp white and pink, floral duvet and sheetsand the pillows stacked neatly,fluffedand smooth.The carpet was vacuumed, and the trash cans were empty. Even the wardrobe,standing tall and beautiful with its ornate designs, was left strategicallyopened, with a ‘Welcome to the Whispering Crow Inn’ sign hanging just so fromthe rod inside. For all intents and purposes, the room looked as if it wereready and waiting for the next guest to arrive at any minute, except for thestack of Gracie’s luggage. They sat beneath the window,neatlyarrangedin size order, as if it were now another permanent fixture ofthe room.
“Whatam I fuckin’lookin’ at here?” Brodie muttered tohimself,slowly pullinghis hand away from itsprotective stance and thrusting it into his already unkempt hair. “Someone’sbeen in here.”
“Andthey cleaned it up. All of that evidence, gone,” I said, as he closed the doorand locked it.
“Well,yedinnaeken if there was any evidence to beginwith.”
Isupposed he was right. Maybe there hadn’t been. But we might have at leastfound a strand of her hair on the floor or the scent of her perfume on thepillows. Anything to remind me that she had once been here, to make me feel closerto her, and it was all gone.
WhileI battled with my emotions, Alec stood beside me, hands on his hips andforehead crumpled in thought. Turning his head and surveying the room, he tooka deep breath and said, “Itwasnaemanagement. Thiswas done by someone else.”
“What?”
Heshook his head and looked to me, as if in those few seconds he had forgotten Iwas there. “Sorry. Justthinkin’ out loud.”
“Howdo you know it wasn’t the inn’s maid? Maybe whoever did this calledhousekeeping and—”
“Look.”He walked to the mini fridge and opened the door, revealing that it was nearlyempty of its drinks and snacks. His eyes met mine again and said, “Whoever didthis, didn’t want us to know they were here.”
“Then,why didn’t they stock the fridge?” I asked, startled by his unexplained andimpressive intuition.
“Becausethey probably didn’t have access to the stockroom, and because theydidnaethink you would check,” he said, pointing at me, andthen, pointing at himself, added, “but they didn’t count on mebein’ here.”
“Becauseit was ruled an accident,” I muttered, shaking myheadand turning to stare at the stack of Gracie’s luggage.
Brodiewas quiet as I walked to the pile of three suitcases, one on top of the other.I moved to put my hands on the first, when Brodie appeared by my side to handme a pair of latex gloves.
“Keepyerselffromlookin’ like asuspect,” he muttered gruffly, and I nodded, pulling them onto my hands.
Iopened the first, to find her toiletries packed neatly intoanumber ofbags. Her shampoo and conditioner, body wash, toothpaste, andtoothbrush, all organized, and I chuckled around the painful prick ofheartbreak.
Shehad packed these things, as neat as always, and she had no idea she was aboutto die.
Tearssprang to my eyes, as I touched her hairbrush and the strands of her brown hairthat still clung to the bristles.
“God,Gracie …,” I whispered, shaking my head.
Iwas ready to have a good cry, to just stare at her belongings and weep for theloss of her life, when I noticed a tinge of brownish red in between thebristles. Gracie didn’t have any red in her hair.
“Brodie.”
“Hm,”he answered, now on his hands and knees, peering underneath the bed.
“Comehere.”
Hedid as he was told, and I pointed at the brush. “Is that blood?”
Fromhis pocket, he pulled out a small flashlight. When it was turned on, it cast ablacklight glow, and the spaces between the bristles beamed.
“Oh,God,” I uttered, the words pushing from my lips as my stomach heaved and I hadto walk away, afraid I would vomit all over what was now evidence.
Carefully,Brodie zipped the bag back up and lifted it. And there, lying squarely on topof the second suitcase, was Gracie’s phone.
Withouta word, he picked it up and handed it to me. Knowing my sister’s passcode, Ientered it, as my stomach warned with angry lurches and queasy churns. Notwanting to see what was there, I handed it back as soon as the phone wasunlocked.
Iwatched warily as he tapped through the phone, not knowing what he was lookingat or what he might have been reading. But when he froze, when his eyeswidened, when his jaw tensed, I stood straighter and the sickening feeling inmy gut grew stronger.
