The 5th Horseman

Chapter 61

ROOM 2021 WAS TWO DOORS DOWN from the elevator, and it had the same whimsical decor as the lobby: a checkered-fabric headboard, three-legged chairs, a starred royal-blue carpet throughout. The current occupants had been hustled out at our behest, leaving their suitcases open on the bed and toiletries in the bathroom. There was an opened mini-bottle of Scotch on the night table.

I tried to imagine how the murder had gone down. The Chinese guy answering the door. Sandy Wegner saying hello. Throwing her coat down on the chair. The first guy spiking her drink with Rohypnol. The second guy, the bruiser, coming out of the bathroom for the kill.

I felt as if I could sense the murder happening around me. Sandy Wegner, helpless as she was raped, killed by two freaks.

The inexpressible horror grabbed me as I looked around for anything that might jump out. But the room had been slept in and cleaned many times since Sandy’s death.

“I hate hotel rooms,” I said to my former partner.

“The carpet probably has a million pubic hairs, none of them matching anything.”

“Thanks for putting that image in my head, Jacobi.”

The manager came to the door, said he was upgrading the current occupants and would keep 2021 free for as long as we needed. I thanked him, said we’d be leaving soon, but that CSU would be arriving shortly.

“CSU could find a print or, God willing, a hair with a skin tag,” I said to Jacobi.

“Doesn’t hurt to hope,” he said with a shrug.

I said, “Doesn’t hurt to pray.”