“But we didn’t want to get married,” Hazel said, her eyes twinkling. “So we never met anyone, and our stay here was extended.”
“No man could tame you,” Channing said.
“I should hope not,” Hazel retorted. “At any rate, though it was meant to be a nice hotel, that element was already here.”
“They used the tunnels,” Honey said.
“That’s right, dear,” Hazel agreed. “The tunnels were built as part of the Underground Railroad. But in Prohibition times, they were used to smuggle rum. The remote location between Philadelphia and New York made it a perfect spot. The Irish mob was all over this place. And they kept using it for their stolen goods and other sundries even after Prohibition was over.”
“Until that night,” Honey said.
“Until that night,” Hazel agreed.
“What night?” Channing asked.
Dru knew they had to mean the night with the murders, the night the jewel thief disappeared.
But Channing seemed determined not to influence their story.
“There was so much blood,” Honey said softly, shaking her head.
“It was the night of the… murders,” Hazel mouthed.
“You were here during that time?” Channing asked.
“It upsets my sister to talk about it,” Hazel said, patting Honey’s hand. “But yes, we were here. And whatever you heard about it, doesn’t begin to reflect how bad it was.”
Channing nodded, rubbing his jaw.
Dru figured he was giving her time in case there was more she wanted to say. She glanced over at Viktor to see if he was as impressed with Channing as she was.
But he was staring at Hazel Van Buren, as if hanging on her every word.
“The bodies were spread across the lobby floor, like in that Scarlett O’Hara movie,” she said quietly. “And the blood... They kept finding it everywhere afterward, in the carpet, on the ceiling, in the chandelier…”
“On the s-staircase,” Honey whispered.
Viktor was on his feet suddenly, walking to the window and looking out across the rear lawn and into the trees of the hillside beyond.
“That’s enough of that, dear,” Hazel said, wrapping an arm around her sister. “At any rate,” she said, turning back to Channing, “after that night, those bozos stayed away. And when things got back to normal, it was better here, quieter.”
“So the clientele changed once that element disappeared?” Channing asked gently.
“Oh, yes,” Hazel said. “And the staff, too. Most of the old staff left not too long after that ugly business.”
“But you came back,” Honey said, squinting in Dru’s direction.
“No Honey,” Hazel corrected her. “That’s not right. But there was a girl who was the spitting image of you, dear.”
“Was her name Jane Anderson?” Dru asked, already knowing the answer.
“It was,” Hazel said with a wide smile.
“That was my Nana,” Dru said.
“She was always banging away on the typewriter too, dear,” Hazel said. “We should have known. She was a fine woman. She used to say Honey and I were the only thing holding this place up.”
“Who’s that?” Honey asked.
“Sweet Jane from the front desk,” Hazel told her. “That’s Drucilla’s grandmother. How is she, dear?”
“Oh, she’s fine,” Dru lied. She simply didn’t have the heart to tell the ladies that her Nana was dead.
Viktor spun around and fixed her in his piercing blue gaze, and she felt momentarily guilty.
Did I even tell him my Nana was dead?
“I’m going to turn the conversation back to the present now, ladies, if I may,” Channing said.
Dru listened and took notes as he walked them through the events of the past few days.
But it was hard not to picture her Nana, sitting beside them, reminiscing.
17
Dru stood up and stretched.
Channing had finished interviewing the Van Buren sisters and then insisted they all take a break. He headed into the dining room, most likely to indulge in some of the cereal that was always out on the counter.
It was funny to picture the pretend detective eating colorful sugary cereal out of a paper cup between interviews.
But he probably had the right idea. She was feeling hungry herself.
She glanced up at Viktor, wondering suddenly if he was hungry too. It had been days since the last time she’d collected the fallen body of a small animal. And he’d said himself that those were really enough to stave off his hunger forever.
She wondered how long it had been since he’d really fed.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he said softly.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
He winced. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” she said.
“Let’s stretch our legs,” he suggested.
There was no point extending this conversation, especially since they couldn’t have it freely in a public space.
“Let’s go out on the porch and look at the snow,” she suggested.
“Of course, Drucilla,” he said, smiling indulgently.
They headed down the corridor.
The lobby was half empty now. The others must have given up on waiting around, since the Van Burens were being interviewed for so long.
“Where are you kids going?” Hailey asked from the desk.
“Just grabbing some fresh air,” Dru told her.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Hailey suggested, waggling her eyebrows.
That still left a pretty long list.
Viktor smiled and gave Hailey a nod.
Dru pulled on her coat and looked back at Viktor as she opened the lobby door. A blast of icy wind greeted them. It was almost enough to discourage her from going outside.
But the moonlight shining on the snow was so pretty, and the open air was so tempting after so long in the stuffy hotel.
She stepped outside and took in the view.
Things had changed since the last time she and Viktor had taken a walk.
“Wow,” she murmured.
He put his hand on the small of her back and she leaned back against his shoulder.
The landscape appeared softer, snow smoothing over the angles, leaving curves in its wake.
The forest looked shorter, but she knew it was just an illusion because the deep snow made the ground look higher than it was.
And the fallen tree in front of the hotel appeared even larger than before, with so much snow on top of its toppled body.
“What’s that?” Viktor asked.
“What’s what?” she replied.
“Do you hear that?” he asked.
She listened closely until she heard a faint, high-pitched warble from the direction of the fallen hemlock.
“Is that a bird?”
“I think it’s trapped,” he said, striding off the porch and into the deep snow.
She trailed behind him. The snow was up to her thighs, but she was too curious not to follow.
Viktor trudged to the far side of the fallen tree.
She could hear the throaty cries more easily as she got closer.
Viktor was already digging through the snowy branches. They were near the base of the massive old tree, and some of the branches at that point were big enough to be trees in their own right.