A Study In Murder

?Mark turned the card over in his hand to reveal the magnetic stripe on one side and the Hilton logo on the other. But there was no information on what room it opened.

?“You’re right.”

?“All the keys are like that, in case you lose them,” I said, my eyes still observing Jon Kane. “Whoever moved you when you were drugged would have to know your room number.”

?“Well, Candy knew it, so I assume if she worked with an accomplice, she would tell him,” Mark put forward.

?“And since Candy’s dead, it’s good to know about any other possibilities.”

?“Look, I have to get to my room and check my laptop,” Mark maintained, and we started for the elevator. “I haven’t seen e-mail since Wednesday.”

?“I could use a change of clothes,” I sighed as we got on the elevator and Mark pushed the “12” button.

?The door closed, and we both stared straight ahead, and I had an overwhelming desire to kiss him. Where had that come from?

?As the elevator rose to the correct floor, Mark asked, “Where do we go from here, Homes?”

?“I am not sure,” I replied, and I think I had turned pink from my thoughts about kissing. “Whoever did this was very organized. And he had to be after something. More than just to kill Randall. Or why go to these lengths?”

?“So far, all we’ve got are dead ends. We didn’t get anything out of going to the crime scene.”

?“I disagree, Mark,” I said as the elevator door opened and we walked into the hall. “I got a lot out of our visit.”

?“Besides the bullet hole and the shell casing?” Mark pondered aloud.

?“How limited you can be, Mark,” I sassed, trying to drive the carnal images from my head and focus on business. “There was a lot of information for the trained observer.”

?Mark gave me a look and shoved his key card in the door of 1228. “Sometimes, young lady, you take this ‘Sherlock Holmes’ thing a little too far.”

?“Sometimes, ‘old man’ you don’t see the obvious,” I teased.

?He tried the door, but it didn’t open. He inserted the card a second time and a small red LED light blinked.

?“What’s wrong?” I asked.

?“My key doesn’t work. The green light is supposed to go on,” Mark said and flipped the card around, which also didn’t open the door.

?“When did you last use it?”

?“Well…Wednesday, I guess. I woke up in the room yesterday,” he said. “I haven’t been back until now. Could they have changed it for a new guest?”

?I took the card and looked at it. “Remember how I mentioned that all the cards look alike?”

?“Yes.”

?“What if this is a key for another door?” I suggested.

17. Footnote

Mark Watkins

?I stood there dumbfounded.

?“Which door would it open?” I wondered as Sheryl turned and walked down the hall.

?She strode the few steps to 1230. The doorframe was marked with yellow tape that carried the words “CRIME SCENE” and formed a large “X” to block the door.

?“No, no!” I warned as I rushed to stop her.