Bombshell
The women came out a moment later, shaking her head. “It’s empty.”
Merrick swallowed the saliva building up in his throat.
He flagged down a security guards. “Did you see where Bombshell went?”
“You mean the black girl?”
Merrick flinched. He didn’t think of her as “the black girl,” and he didn’t appreciate his staff identifying their guests by their skin color. His lips tightened. “My fiancée is a woman of color, yes. Did you see her or not?”
His pudgy white security guard didn’t show an ounce of remorse. “Yeah, she left,” he said completely without concern.
Merrick hands balled into fists. “Can you be more specific, please?” he said icily. “Did she go back to her room?”
“No. She just left the hotel,” he said and pointed to the main doors to the lobby. “Is there anything else?”
Merrick turned away from the man and headed out front. His heart was pumping so hard he could barely breathe. Why would she go outside? She hadn’t left him. That wasn’t possible. She just needed fresh air. But they’d been in the garden room—it was already outside. When he got out front, Bombshell was nowhere to be seen.
He spotted a bellman, a new hire. “Enrique,” Merrick shouted.
“Yes, Mr. Flynn, how can I help you?” Enrique said, standing to attention.
“I’m looking for my girlfriend, Bombshell. She was just out here a few minutes ago—did you see her? Do you know where she went?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir, I just got here about five seconds ago—I’m covering for Mario during his lunch break. You want me to call him?”
“Please,” Merrick said. He paced back and forth.
Enrique took care of another guest, and Mario still hadn’t called.
Merrick’s cell phone rang. It was Tony. “How did the proposal go, bro? Did she say yes?”
“No, I didn’t even get a chance to ask her. She left. She fucking left.”
Chapter Twenty Six
……Back in Misty Falls
Sam, the owner of the Double XX Bar and Grill hadn’t checked the mail for several days, and when he saw the DVD with the note, he knew deep in his heart that it was bad news.
He couldn’t watch it in his house, because he’d already trashed the place—destroying his television and breaking every dish as he dealt with his loss.
He knew she was dead. That was the only explanation. She would never leave him without the satisfaction of rubbing it in his face.
He put the DVD on the seat next to him and tried not to look at the note, written in black marker.
“A goodbye from Fish-Face for Sam the Worm.”
It wasn’t her handwriting, and she’d never call herself by that hated nickname—which meant the note was from her killer.
He went to the Double XX and parked in the empty parking lot, then opened his trunk and pulled out an ax. With ax and DVD in hand, he walked up the wooden steps and put them both down as he removed the padlock which secured a board to the front door. After the board was down, he pulled the usual key from his pocket and unlocked the door as his hands shook.
Since the windows had been boarded up, the interior of the bar was darker than usual. He flipped on the overhead lights, then went back to the stoop to get the DVD and the ax.
When he got to the back of the bar, he walked by his office. The door was open, and all of his papers were exactly as he’d left them. In the corner of the office, he stared at the black metal file cabinet. Her file cabinet. The one he was never supposed to look in. It didn’t matter now. He knew she’d never come back to scold him about breaking into it. The cabinet was heavy duty, and the lock was strong. He took a moment to gather his composure, then wrapped his arms around the cabinet and heaved it into the main room.
Using his minimal body strength, he pushed with all his might against the top of it, until it flipped on its side. Then he grabbed the ax, swinging it and smashing the blade against the lock until it finally fell to the floor.
He opened the drawer and reached inside. Papers, and money, and jewelry—he shoved them aside. He wanted the box. The box where she kept her favorite instrument of torture.