Peggy Dulle - Liza Wilcox 05 - Till Death Do Us Part Page 5

  But when the witch turned into the dragon, the little girl buried her head in Tom’s chest and covered her ears. After Mickey defeated the dragon and Tinker Bell showed up, Tom tapped the little girl on the shoulder and said, “Mickey won and look, there’s Tinker Bell.”

  The little girl turned her head and slowly opened up her eyes and then her face broke into a huge smile. She jumped up and hugged her mother, pointing at Tinker Bell the entire way.

  I leaned over and kissed Tom on the cheek. “You must have been an awesome dad to Michael. I can’t wait to have kids with you.”

  He winked at me and said, “I’d slay a dragon for you, too, honey.”

  As the show finished with the steamboat, I could hear Tom humming along with the music and smiling. When it was finished, we rose with the crowd and were bustled toward Main Street. It was like being part of a herd of cows, all headed to the watering hole.

  Tom was amazed at how the fireworks show just wasn’t fireworks but a complete story about Disneyland. At one point he leaned over and whispered into my ear, “My wish came true the day you walked into the Gainesville motel.”

  I squeezed his hand and smiled. It was a great day in my life too. But I think my wish came true when I found Kenny again.

  After the fireworks we walked down Main Street and back to California Adventure. On the way we stopped at an ice cream cart. I got a Mickey ice cream sandwich and a bottled water. Tom got two Dreyer’s Dibs and a soda. With snacks in hand, we took our spots in the viewing area for World of Color and sat down again.

  “I didn’t realize we would be sitting so much. I think of Disneyland as more of a walk-a-lot place,” Tom said as we settled onto the ground.

  “We’ll walk enough tomorrow. Tonight we just want to enjoy the three shows.”

  Tom enjoyed World of Color, although he said that after Fantasmic and the fireworks show, it just seemed like a big movie shown on water.

  “I just like the real stuff added in,” Tom said as the show finished, then asked, “Do you want to go on a few rides?”

  “No, it’s okay. We’ll go on enough in the next two days. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

  Tom’s face morphed into a huge grin. I slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  “That’s what I am always thinking when you say hotel.”

  I shook my head. “Three steps of separation.”

  “Huh?”

  “Kenny says that no matter what men are talking about they are only three steps or less from thinking about sex.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Let’s see if I can give you example. I ask you to take out the garbage.”

  “And I am thinking about sex?”

  “Follow my lead. I ask you to take out the garbage, you do it and think how nice you are being by taking out the garbage, then your mind slips to other things you could do that would be nice.”

  “Sex?” Tom smiled.

  I nodded.

  “Okay,” Tom said. “How about watching a ball game?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. Ball game – scanning the crowd – you see a pretty woman – sex.”

  Tom’s face scrunched up as he contemplated my logic. Then he smiled and said, “I think my separation is only two steps.”

  I laughed, took his arm, and we walked back to the hotel. The evening was warm and it was a nice walk. A lot of people were also leaving Disneyland so we just went with the crowd.

  As we crossed Harbor Boulevard, Tom said, “Well, I learned something about Stretch today.”

  “Really?”

  “She loves Disneyland.” Tom smiled, tugging me closer.

  I laughed. “Actually, I love all things Disney.”

  Tom frowned. “It’s a Liza thing not a Stretch thing?”

  I rolled my eyes. The Stretch part was the way I maneuvered and moved in Disneyland, not the place itself and Tom hadn’t seen that at all.

  When we got into the parking lot, I noticed some broken ceramic pieces and said, “Oh no, someone broke their Disney figurine.”

  Tom looked down at the ground and said, “I hope they get that cleaned up soon. I don’t think the pieces are that sharp but nobody wants to get them imbedded in their tires.”

  Tom was always practical. I saw a broken child’s souvenir and he saw a potential hazard.

  Tom inserted his key and opened our hotel door. As we stepped into the room, Tom scooped me off my feet, slammed the door with foot and carried me toward the bed for a wonderful night of passion.

  My body fell on something lumpy, sticky and smelly.

  “What the hell?” I said.

  Tom turned on the light on the bedside table and I turned to see what I’d landed on. The empty open eyes of dead woman stared back at me.

  Chapter 5

  “Ahh!” I screamed, frozen in terror.

  “What the hell?” Tom picked me up quickly and lifted me off the bed.

  I immediately backed away from the bed. I have seen dead bodies before but never actually touched one, let alone landed on top of it. My heart skipped several beats and then raced as my breathing became so shallow that I was already seeing spots from lack of oxygen.

  “Liza, shut your eyes,” Tom insisted.

  I did. My legs started to buckle.

  “Give me your hands,” Tom continued.

  I held my hands up and Tom took them.

  “Head,” Tom ordered.

  I leaned over and my forehead connected with Tom’s. I felt my body stabilize.

  “Liza, count.”

  I started, “Ten, nine, eight …”

  “No,” Tom bellowed. “Breathe in between each number.”

  “Ten,” both Tom and I said together.

  “Breathe,” Tom insisted.

  We continued the procedure, except Tom said the numbers with me and then told me to take a breath. At four I tried to slide down to the next numbers without breathing, and Tom made me start all the way back at ten. Eventually, I was calm and I opened my eyes.

  I took a deep cleansing breath and said, “Thanks, Tom.”

  “I need to call the cops, Liza. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’ll go and get out of these clothes and take a shower.”

  When I turned toward the shower, Tom grabbed my wrist and bellowed, “No!”

  “Why?” I answered, my voice just as loud.

  “I’m afraid I dropped you on the body and made you part of the crime scene. They will need to take pictures and get your clothes before you can take that shower.”

  My hair was all sticky with blood, and when I tried to reach up and push it behind my ears, Tom gently took both my hands and said, “Don’t touch it.”

  “I am supposed to stand here and do nothing with some woman’s blood all over me?” My voice grew in pitch and tone with each word, as my body began to shake again.

  Tom took my hands the way he had done during my panic attack. “I’ll try to get them here as quickly as possible. Are you okay?”

  He was asking if I would have another panic attack. I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t, but I nodded.

  Tom went into cop mode immediately. He checked her pulse, although there was no way the woman was alive with the mess someone made out of her chest. She must have made someone really mad.

  Tom immediately called the Anaheim Police Department. “Their main station is close, and they’ll send some uniforms and detectives.”

  He seemed to always have the numbers of the local cops in whatever city we visited. Was that some kind of comment on our luck?

  I glanced at the woman. She was dressed in blue jeans shorts and a white shirt with what looked like Minnie Mouse embossed on the front, although it was hard to tell because of all the rips in the shirt, not to mention the blood. She was a tourist who certainly hadn’t come to Disneyland to die. She had long reddish-brown hair was pulled back from a delicately featured face.

  “What should I do?” I asked, then added, “I jus
t can’t stand here or I will go crazy or have another panic attack.”

  “Okay, call the front desk and tell them what we found, get them to give us another room. Tell them I’ve already contacted Anaheim PD.”

  I nodded and went to the room phone. The clerk at the other end started to scream as soon as I told her there was a dead woman in our bed.

  Two Anaheim police officers arrived within a few minutes, with no sirens. Tom introduced himself to the officers, they shook hands and then all turned their attention to the body in the middle of our bed. One of the officers was a tall, lanky young man with a heart-shaped face, strong impertinent chin, and cheeks dusted with a faint hint of freckles. He looked like a surfer who was moonlighting as a police officer. The other was the complete opposite. He was a thick-set short man in his mid-forties with black hair that was dense, dark and cut military style.

  I barely got the clerk calmed down before I was transferred to the manager to ask about a room change, when the older officer tried to usher us out of the room.

  “No, Officer Weston,” Tom told him, then pointed to me. “She needs to be photographed and her clothes need to be taken.”

  “Why?” Officer Weston asked.

  Tom rotated his fingers in the air and I turned around.

  “I set her down on the bed.”

  “On the body?” The younger officer’s voice elevated with each word.

  “I didn’t see the body, Officer Jetser,” Tom growled.

  An ambulance came next.

  A few minutes later two homicide detectives arrived, both tall, lean, and wearing identical blue suits, white shirts, and blue ties. They could have been brothers, they looked so much alike. But were these cops? They looked more like FBI agents.

  Several other vehicles arrived – some marked with Anaheim PD, others with county insignias on the side. I didn’t care who or what they were – all I wanted to do was get out of my clothes and wash the blood off my body.

  By this time, I had stood still for thirty minutes and I was starting to glaze over and not see anything. One technician took pictures of my front and back, another combed some of the blood and other stuff out of my hair. I didn’t want to think about it so I didn’t think about anything. It was like watching a television crime show without the sound on. Another technician handed me a brown bag for my clothes. I know they spoke to me but I didn’t hear them. I got a pair of pajama shorts and T-shirt out of my suitcase, went into the bathroom and changed, putting the bloody clothes into the bag and using a towel to wrap up my hair since I didn’t want to transfer the blood to the clean clothes. When I came out of the bathroom, I gave the bag to the technician.

  I heard Tom raise his voice and say, “No, she’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Talk about what? I wondered. I didn’t known the woman; I just landed on her.

  I saw Tom point to me, then glare at the detective. Tom had a great glare. The detective flinched and nodded.

  Then Tom came over and took my hand. “We’ve been moved to another room. Come with me and you can get in the shower and I’ll come back and get our suitcases.”

  I nodded and let him lead me out of the room.

  We were moved from the first floor to the second and from the front to the back of the hotel. Had Tom chosen the room furthest away from our other room or was this the only one available?

  When we got into the room, Tom said, “Go and take a shower, I’ll get our suitcases.”

  I nodded and walked toward the bathroom. I stripped out of the clean clothes and stepped into the shower. When I turned on the water and turned around, the base of the shower filled with red. The color shocked me out of my numbness and my emotions erupted like the glass shard of vase thrown to the floor.

  I sucked in several shallow breaths as the tears started and I felt Tom’s arms around me. I leaned back and sobbed. Several minutes later, the tears subsided and I realized two things: I couldn’t stay in the shower until the hot water was gone, which would be my normal routine, and Tom was still in his shorts and shirt.

  I turned in his arms and said, “Why did you come in with your clothes on?”

  “I was headed to the door when I realized you hadn’t spoken a word for the last thirty minutes. Usually I can’t get you to stop asking questions. You should have been following the technicians and detectives around pelting them with questions. And since you didn’t, I knew you were in shock, so I turned around to come in and talk to you. I saw the blood in the water and your face. I just came in with you.”

  I reached up and stroked the side of his face. “Thanks.”

  He leaned down and kissed me gently on the lips. “Maybe I can incorporate getting naked and wet with you to our procedure for stopping your panic attacks.”

  I gave a short laughed.

  He winked at me. “That’s my girl. Why don’t you finish cleaning up and I’ll call the front desk and get them to bring our luggage?”

  “Good plan.”

  Tom stepped out of the shower and after I scrubbed my body and washed my hair three times, I dressed in the clean clothes I took off before my shower.

  When I heard a knock at the door, Tom opened the bathroom door. “That’s probably our luggage. I need to get out of these wet clothes. Can you answer the door?”

  “Sure,” I reached over and touched his face, “and thanks.”

  He kissed me gently on the lips and I closed the door leaving him to strip out of his clothes. At the front door was a young boy, maybe sixteen, with shaggy brown hair and a face full of freckles and acne. He was dressed in a brown slacks and white shirt with the hotel’s logo on it. He held a rolling cart with our two suitcases on it.

  “Thanks so much for bringing these,” I told him.

  He put our suitcases on the bed. I gave him a generous tip and he smiled, nodded and left.

  Tom came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around him. “Great,” he said and got himself a pair of pajama shorts.

  It was close to two in the morning, so we got right into bed.

  When we settled in, I asked, “So what happened?”

  “It’s late, Liza. Let’s get some rest.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep. Tell me what you know.”

  “We’re not investigating this, Liza,” Tom said sternly.

  “I have no intention of investigating this. I am on vacation in Disneyland. I am just curious.”

  “Okay. The woman was from a few doors down from our original room. She and her husband are here on vacation from Oregon.”

  “No surprise, there. How’d she get in our room?’

  “They have no idea. She and her husband were over at Disneyland. He wanted to stay and watch the fireworks and she was tired so she walked back to the hotel.”

  “Where’s the husband now?”

  Tom chuckled. “Thinking he did it?”

  “Well, it’s usually someone they know, especially with that many stab wounds. The killer was angry.”

  “I would agree, but we’re not investigating this so let’s not speculate, shall we?”

  I shrugged. “Let me rephrase my question: So how do they think she got in our room?”

  “They think she was probably walking by and her killer grabbed her and took her in there, then stabbed her and left her on our bed.”

  I frowned. “How’d they get in our room?

  “I asked the same question.”

  “They make the new keys every time someone checks in, right?”

  Tom nodded.

  “So the only way to get one is through the computer on the front desk. Did the clerk leave the desk at some time today?”

  “Yes.” Tom smiled. “You think just like a cop, Liza. There was a commotion outside on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. A homeless man was arguing with a tourist. The front desk clerk left the desk and went outside to watch the commotion. I guess the cops came and arrested the man.”

  “So it was long enough for someone to go in, make a key, and s
lip back out.”

  “Probably. At least that’s what they think.”

  I glanced at my watch. It was after two in the morning, but Justin would still be awake. I got my phone out of my purse.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Justin.”

  Two rings later, Justin said. “Please tell me you have found a dead body because I am so bored I can’t think straight.”

  “Well, actually, I landed on top of one this evening.”

  “Great! Well, for us. Bad for the person who was killed.”

  I told Justin about the woman in our bed, then asked, “How could someone get a key to our room?”

  “The easiest way would be from the front desk, just push a few buttons and print a new one. But if I had the right program and knew some key information about the hotel’s system, I might be able to make a key at a different location and then bring it to the hotel and use it. Although the easiest way would be to be smart enough to make a master key.”

  “Master key?”

  “Sure, if I got into the hotel’s system and wandered around, I could probably figure out a way to build a master key that would work on all the rooms. The maids have them or they wouldn’t be able to get into all of the rooms to clean.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  “You are so smart, Justin.”

  Justin laughed.

  “Thanks, Justin.”

  “What’s the woman’s name? You want me to do some digging on her?”

  “No, Tom says we’re not investigating this. And I am on vacation.”

  “You can always text me the info without him knowing it if you decide you want the information about her later.”

  “I sure can,” I said.

  I hung up and told Tom what Justin said.

  “He’s a scary guy, that Justin.”

  “He only uses his skills for good and not for evil,” I told Tom.

  “Well, thank God for that. I’m exhausted, let’s go to sleep.”

  “How many steps?” I teased.

  “In my mind, less than one. But I’m exhausted from driving all day, so I’ll have to give you a rain check.”