I glanced at my phone. It was almost four-thirty, and traffic had probably picked up considerably. I could check on Carmen. But no, I couldn’t do that. I mean what would I say to her?
Carmen, I just ran into the woman that Cedric was thinking about marrying five years ago. Of course he came to his senses or else he wouldn’t have found you, the love of his life.
I’m not a woman who really believes in coincidences, but I realized my unease had to do with one simple fact. Carmen’s ex-husband Darius was dead and she had found him. Cedric’s ex-girlfriend Monique, who went a bit psycho some years ago was looking for her boyfriend Darius. I was having a hard time trying to process this small world scenario.
What if Monique had found out this information? It’d been five years, but the woman still didn’t strike me as stable.
Then it dawned on me. Had Cedric ever told Carmen about his past? My son was pretty upset about the bombshell Carmen dropped on him, but most of Cedric’s past love interests were still here in Charleston. Did it ever occur to him that his own past may prove to be far worse?
A headache was determined to slam me to the ground.
I’d never had an ex anyone. Ralph was my one and only. That sounded crazy in the world we lived in, but I didn’t know about any other men. Okay, I had these weird moments with Amos.
I mean Amos was handsome, despite being in his sixties. I’d always been a fan of Harry Belafonte, and Amos resembled my favorite actor. Being a retired detective, he had experiences I could have never dreamed of outside my years in a classroom.
Over the past two years, Amos had grown to be a lot more than a neighbor, but I wasn’t ready to fully commit to something more. I was sixty-one and romance seemed to be something in a novel, not real life.
I snapped my thoughts away from Amos. I was still standing in the hallway where Monique had just left me.
Good Lord, help me! It was time to go home.
I strode down the long hallway that led away from the conference rooms. As I approached the hotel counter, I noticed the young man with the reddish bow tie still checking in guests. The lobby seating area was filled with conference attendees who appeared to be enjoying happy hour. I didn’t see Monique and didn’t want to run into her again.
A thought flashed in my mind that I should have ignored. I’m a person with good sense and I could slowly feel a sense of curiosity growing inside me.
What was Carmen thinking as she entered the hotel this morning? Was she scared as she headed to the elevators?
Instead of heading out the glass doors towards the parking lot, I proceeded to walk straight past the check-in counter towards the four elevators. No one else stood waiting. I’m not sure what I thought I was doing, but I pressed the up button and expectantly waited for one of the elevator doors to open. It didn’t take long for the doors to slide open on the second elevator to my right.
I moved towards the elevator but stopped.
Eugeena, what are you doing?
I didn’t have long to ponder my craziness before the stainless-steel doors began to close. I leapt through the doors right before they shut. Breathing hard, I smashed the number eight.
Surely, no one should be on the eighth floor. There was a crime scene. But I knew there were probably guests already assigned to rooms on the eighth floor. Rosemary said that particular suite wasn’t available.
When the elevator doors slid open on the eighth floor, I really expected to see someone, like a deputy questioning my presence. But no one was in the hallway. I stepped off and turned to the left, studying the signs on the wall in front of me. Room 828 was to my right. I peered to my left to see if any guests were in the hallway, then swiveled my neck to the right as if I was about to cross a street.
Not a single person was in sight. I couldn’t hear voices or even a television coming from any of the rooms.
It was too quiet.
Okay, Eugeena, turn your behind around now and leave.
My feet remained planted where I stood.
I knew the crime scene investigators and even Detective Wilkes could be on this hallway doing their jobs right now. What was I going to do if they saw me?
Despite my worries, my feet began moving closer to room 828. The suite was at the very end of the hallway. A wall jutted out into the hallway providing more privacy to the suite compared to the other rooms. As I stepped closer, a prickly feeling like fingers graced the back of my neck.
This scared me. When I was scared, I knew to reach for someone who was bigger than my fears. So, I did something I honestly hadn’t thought to do all day.
Forgive me, Lord!
I whispered a prayer for Darius Randall. I’d only briefly met him face-to-face yesterday morning at the bakery. And almost twenty-four hours later, the man was killed on this very floor. I prayed for his soul to be at peace with God.
The man Carmen once loved and then feared. The same man Monique seemed to love and was desperately searching for.
I gulped and rounded the corner to view the room number. Crime scene tape was plastered across the door. How interesting that the man was killed in a room that was basically not visible from the rest of the hallway. I’m sure Darius Randall paid well for the privacy offered by the suite.
I turned back towards the door with 827 embedded on the side wall. From the angle of 827, it wasn’t possible to see room 828. Still, if anyone was in 827 earlier today, they had to hear or see all the commotion in hallway. Next to the suite was 826. Did no one hear an argument or hear Darius crying out? Would the man have cried out after being struck on the back of the head? Maybe he felt a sharp pain and then only blackness.
My stomach was starting not to feel so good.
I turned to head back down the hall, praying no one would open their door. I wanted to steal away as quietly as I had come. I headed back to the elevator, thinking about Carmen. For some reason, I couldn’t remember her telling us her actions after she found Darius, only that she called the police.
Did she run out the room and head straight to the elevators? Did she have the sense not to touch anything in the room? How long did she wait before she called the police?
I wasn’t a detective by profession, but I watched my share of Law & Order, Murder She Wrote, Matlock, you name it. I knew television was not real.
My son’s fiancée finding her ex-husband dead was very real.
I took a breath and pressed the elevator button. This time none of the elevators were close to the eighth floor.
As I waited, I thought about Monique. She’d been calling Darius. If they’d dated for a whole year, surely she knew his hotel room number. Monique claimed she was busy with her father’s illness. Was she with her father twenty-four hours a day? Something else had to have gone down between Darius and Monique for the couple’s communication to go sour after Monday night.
While I pondered Monique’s relationship with the deceased, I noticed the second elevator on my right, the one I’d stepped off of a few minutes ago slowly ascending. I had learned a lot since arriving at the hotel almost two hours ago. I peeked at the conference program I’d swiped from downstairs and flipped a few pages in. The face of Darius Randall stared back at me.
He grinned, looking debonair. According to the ad, Darius was the opening keynote speaker on Monday night. This guy was kind of a big deal. I remember that Hudson woman saying how he was hard to book for the conference.
When the elevator slid open, I moved towards the elevator, not really looking up like I should’ve been. I noticed someone’s feet stepping off the elevator, moving towards me, and I lifted my head. As recognition of the face hit me, I dropped the program and all the brochures in my hand. Backing up, I clutched my chest in hopes of slowing down the fast, erratic beat of my heart.