The Wharf. Carol Ericson
“Stairs.”
He reached the door before her and held it open. “After you.”
Walking closely behind her down the stairwell, he had a hard time concentrating on the steps and almost tripped on the last one.
“I thought I was the unsteady one.” She pushed through the fire door and strode into the deserted lobby. Her flip-flops slapped against her feet as she marched to the front desk.
The hotel clerk put down his coffee and met her eyes across the counter. “Good evening. My name is Michael. Can I help you?”
Kacie flattened her palms on the shiny wood and hunched forward. “Well, Michael, someone locked me in the sauna over an hour ago.”
The man’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “The sauna doesn’t lock from the outside.”
Pushing the waves from her face, Kacie shook her head. “I don’t mean locked. Someone used the handle of the pool net to wedge the doors closed.”
“That’s terrible! Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”
“I’m fine...now.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “He was in the gym and noticed the net. He let me out.”
“It’s lucky you’re both night owls. Did you see who did it?”
“No. There were some teenage boys in the hot tub earlier, but I don’t have any proof that they did anything.”
Ryan rested his arm on the counter. “Do you have a camera out there?”
“Sorry. We don’t.” He grabbed the receiver of his phone and barked into it. “Wesley, we have a situation in the lobby.”
Kacie sighed and straightened up. “Then I don’t know what you can do about it. The pool area and gym were empty when I went into the sauna. I heard a noise at the door about five minutes after I went in there. That must’ve been when the idiot decided to play his dangerous joke.”
A security guard crossed the lobby, his rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the marble tiles. “What’s the problem?”
“Miss...?” Michael raised his brows at Kacie.
“Manning, Kacie Manning.”
His forehead furrowed. “Wesley, Ms. Manning was the victim of a rather dangerous practical joke. Someone wedged the sauna doors shut while she was in there.”
Wesley tipped back his hat and scratched his forehead. “You don’t say. That’s a pretty stupid thing to do, especially at this time of night. Did you see anyone?”
“Just a few teens earlier, but they’d left by the time I went into the sauna.”
“Yeah, I saw those boys. I had to kick them out of the business center tonight. They were dripping water all over the computers and accessing porn sites.” Wesley cleared his throat. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Kacie waved her hand. “Oh, I know all about pornographic sites and that teenage boys—and even grown men—are big fans of them.”
Ryan slid her a sideways glance. Was that for his benefit? He’d better get his mind out of the bedroom and keep his eyes off her assets.
He stood tall and squared his shoulders. “If the boys were still wet, it sounds like they came straight from the pool. Where’d they go after you kicked them out of the business center?”
“I watched them get into the elevator, and I didn’t see them again. I’m assuming they went back to their rooms, but they could’ve snuck back down to the pool.”
Drawing her brows together, Kacie said, “I don’t think they had enough time if they were fooling around in the business center after they left the pool.”
The security guard turned to Ryan. “Sir, did you see anyone in the gym?”
“Nope.”
“The best I can do is talk to the boys if I see them again.” He wagged his finger at Kacie. “You need to be more careful, young lady. Didn’t your mama ever tell you to let someone know where you’re going at all times?”
Kacie covered her twitching lips with her hand. “No, sir, but that’s good advice.”
Wesley tugged his pants over his significant belly and sauntered away.
“Sorry about that, Ms. Manning. Wesley’s kind of old school.”
“I didn’t mind.”
“We do want to make this up to you, however. I’ll check with management, but I’m going to suggest we comp your stay with us, Ms. Manning.” He bent his head over his keyboard and started tapping.
“Thanks, Michael.” Kacie pointed at Ryan and mouthed the words You too?
He shook his head. He hadn’t been the one sweating it out in the sauna.
Michael looked up from his task. “Oh, this is a coincidence.”
“What is?” Kacie folded her hands on top of the counter.
“I left a message on your hotel phone earlier, probably when you were by the pool. I knew your name sounded familiar.”
“Oh? What was the message? I didn’t notice one on my phone.”
“It’s a package, actually. Some transient came in here with it, said a woman had dropped it out front. Your name was on it, and when I looked it up, I discovered you were a guest at the hotel.”
“A package?” She shoved back from the counter and shrugged at Ryan. “I wasn’t carrying anything except my purse when I walked back to the hotel tonight.”
Michael rubbed his chin. “It had your name on it. I put it in the back. I’ll get it.”
“That’s weird. I didn’t bring any package with me.”
“Maybe someone was supposed to deliver something to you and left it with a doorman or bellhop, and it got left outside. At least your name’s on it, and the transient brought it in here.”
“I hope it’s not important. That’s a pretty shabby way to treat something important.”
Michael scurried from the back, balancing a lumpy, brown paper−wrapped package on his outstretched palms. He presented it to Kacie, her name scribbled in black felt pen across the outside. “Here you go, Ms. Manning. If there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.” She took the package from his hands and spun around. “I’m going to open this now.”
She crossed the lobby and sank to the cushions of a love seat facing the door.
Ryan sat across from her and whipped out his knife. “Do you need something for the twine?”
“Yes, please.” She held the package out to him, and he sliced the blade through the twine wrapped around the brown paper. It covered something soft and shapeless.
Placing the package in her lap, Kacie began unwrapping it. When she folded back the last piece of paper, she gasped and jerked back.
He lunged out of his chair, falling on his knees in front of her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Holding the object with the paper, she turned it toward him. A rag doll with blond braids smiled at him with her stitched-on mouth.
His pulse slowed down. “A doll? Are you a collector?”
She shook the toy at him, and the braids flopped back and forth. “This isn’t just some random doll.”
His gaze tracked from the black button eyes of the doll to Kacie’s own round eyes taking up half her face. “Obviously. What is it?”
“Daniel Walker’s daughter was clutching this doll when he murdered her.”