"Yeah," Xavier says. "I don't think it's like a national museum exchange program."
"Speaking of Michael Duprey, I have to go back to the Garden View. Would you want to come with me?"
"Why are you going back there?" he asks.
"I need to test a theory," I tell him. "Do you want to come?"
“No,” he says. “Thanks, but if it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay here and get some rest.”
“Sure,” I nod. “Rest well.”
I look at Dean, and he follows me out into the hallway.
"I'll keep a close eye on him," he promises.
"Please do. He's getting more agitated the closer we get to the anniversary of Andrew's death, and he needs to feel safe right now."
"He needs to have someone prove he didn't do anything wrong and find out why Millie had to die," Dean says almost aggressively. “Emma, we’ve got to make this right.
"I'm doing everything I can," I say. “I promise.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Five days after death…
She would never have wanted anyone to see her that way. Of course, no one ever would.
It was all done alone, hidden beneath fabric and dirt. Far from where she was supposed to be. Even farther from where they would believe she had gone.
Nearly a week has passed now.
It would be nothing but days tumbling by after this. They caught up quickly for the dead. And yet, went by so slowly.
Tears were being shed for her. But how many of them were real? And which ones were crying for themselves?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The police have long since left the hotel. They'll be back. They'll check in a few times just to keep up appearances, so it won't look as if they've just thrown Lydia away. Even though they have. But for now, I'm glad they're not here. It makes it easier for me to walk in and cross through the lobby without being noticed.
I don't want anybody with me while I'm doing this. I need to be able to see it myself. Not influenced by anyone or anything else but my own senses.
I take out my phone and record where I'm going. Trying to do it by memory, I follow the same path Lydia did, looking at the same things she did. I'm trying to get her perspective. Exactly what she was seeing. Just as importantly, I want to see where she wasn’t seen. The footage doesn't show everything. There are sections of the hotel that aren't covered, places where she must have walked.
Not just the abandoned area where she was found, but other places she must have passed through without being detected. If she could do that, so could someone else. I walk along every hallway, every dip, and curve where she walked and turned and talked. When I've done all of that, I head down the hallway toward the abandoned section of the hotel.
I would expect there to be a new lock on the door, but instead, it's just blocked by caution tape.
There are no security cameras in this area. No one knows I'm here. And I move through the door quickly enough that no one finds out. The feeling is just as eerie down here as it was the first time. Shining the flashlight of my phone down the hallway, I take note of everything I see until I get to the kitchen.
It doesn't make sense that she would have just walked into a freezer without any kind of reaction. That she would have accidentally frozen herself rather than trying to fight her way out. Unless she was incapacitated when she went in, but then somebody would have had to have noticed her being carried. And there would have been some indication from the body: a wound, poison. Something.
I walk up to the freezer and examine the area around it. I'm just about to walk out of the kitchen when I notice something strange about the edge of the freezer. It's built into the wall, but the edge furthest from me seems to protrude by just a fraction of an inch. I push past several stacked chairs and an old dishwashing table to get to the other side of the freezer. When I do, I discover the built-in freezer isn't the only feature on the wall. A small alcove is built-in beside it. There’s a door. And I can see right through the window to the parking lot outside.
My heart jumps. I can't believe I didn't notice this before. It was hidden behind everything shoved into the corner, but here it is. A door likely used years ago for deliveries and vendors. It would have been easy to come right through here and to the freezer and bypass the rest of the kitchen, along with the other areas of the hotel.
And easy to get right back out again.
I have a feeling. It's one of those unexplainable things, something you can't really define, but you know to follow it. Sam always says he sees that exact feeling on my face and instantly knows I have to do something. Right now, that feeling leads me to reach out and test the door.
It should be locked. This area of the hotel has been closed down for so many years; it should have been secured the last time the staff used it.
Of course, the last person who used it wasn't the hotel staff.
And that's why it opens now. It doesn't swing open smoothly. There's resistance. But I'm able to push it open and step right outside into the staff parking area. There’s a small loading dock, where deliveries of groceries and catered food used to come for the elaborate events held just inside. Like the rest of this section of the hotel, the loading dock is sleeping. Nothing has happened here in so long.
Nothing but an earbud being crushed
