Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

Sam took a sip of his coffee and set the mug down on the table. He reached inside the box and pulled out the stack of notebooks that ghost tour Kent had given them.

“Have you gone through these?” he asked.

Kimberley turned her head and looked over at Sam. She nodded. “Skimmed.”

“I think we need to start here.” He set the notebooks on the table.

Kimberley capped her dry-erase marker and set it on the metal lip of the whiteboard.

“Why?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Does this hunch have anything to do with the fact that you don’t think one of your own could have committed murder?” Kimberley raised an eyebrow.

“Not at all.”

“You know the stats on homicide, right?”

“Yeah, Kimberley, I do. Eleven percent committed by strangers. You may think I’m some hillbilly sheriff, but regardless, I am the sheriff.” He raised his chin in a challenging way. “You can either fall in line or you can step out of it. Your choice.”

Kimberley crossed her arms in front of her chest. She had no idea where this was coming from. Sam had been so agreeable with her, respectful of her, but now he was challenging her as if they weren’t on the same team. She studied his face. He didn’t have the same sternness mixed with a jovial look. His eyes were strained, bloodshot like he hadn’t slept. Her eyes dropped to his shoulders, which were slightly raised, tense. His chest puffed out. Kimberley tapped her foot on the ground steadily, like it was the heartbeat of her burn room. She considered arguing with him, but he seemed like he was already in a battle with himself.

Bearfield and Hill entered the room, taking seats around the conference table. They dropped their laptops and files on the table, looking at Sam and then Kimberley who were in a tense stare-down with one another.

“I’ve got snacks and coffee,” Barb said, walking in with a tray full of donuts, napkins, a carafe of coffee and five mugs. She smiled at Kimberley, then at Sam and then Bear and Hill.

“I’ve asked Barb to sit in with us.” Kimberley slightly raised her chin.

Sam chewed on her words for a moment.

“Alright.” He nodded, letting Kimberley win this one, but he wasn’t backing down just yet when it came to suspects.

Barb set the tray down and passed out donuts and cups of coffee. Sam took a seat at the head of the table while Kimberley and Barb sat on either side.

“Who’s watching the front desk?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, Deputy Burns. He’s been a pain in my ass,” Barb said.

Sam gave a small grin.

“Let’s start with the notebooks,” Kimberley said, entertaining Sam. She handed one to each person.

“What are we looking for?” Sam asked.

“You tell me. This was your idea. Your hunch.” Kimberley smirked.

Sam leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Well, I’d say we look at the last six months. See if any of the people in here have criminal records, something that’d look suspicious.” He patted his hand on the spiral notebook. “Maybe a history of violence, something like that. But first, Hill, you got the information compiled on motels and Airbnbs?”

Hill nodded, pulling a file folder from the stack in front of him. He slid it down the table to Sam. “It’s all in there. Anyone that’s stayed in the area for the last six months.”

“Anything suspicious?” Sam opened the folder.

“Nothing that stuck out.”

“We’ll cross-reference the information in Kent’s ghost tour spirals with this then.” Sam flipped through the pages.

Kimberley nodded. “Alright, then.” She pulled her laptop out of the box and opened it up. “Kent said these notebooks account for the last twelve months, so you just want to look at the last six?” she confirmed.

“Yeah, we’ll start there. I’m especially curious about the last six to twelve weeks.” Sam took a sip of his coffee.

Kimberley reached for the other notebooks and began flipping through them, looking at the dates starting six months prior and quickly making her way to recent weeks and months. She noticed the pages were full six months ago, but at four months there were half-pages of names. At three months, only a quarter of the page was filled on average. At two months, only a few names. And in the last month, the pages were all blank.

“Look at this, the month leading up to Hannah Brown’s murder, there’s nothing. Not a single person took the tour.” Kimberley flipped the blank pages quickly, showing Sam.

“Did he just stop having people signing in?” Bearfield asked, flipping through his own spiral.

“I’m not sure, but I suggest we find out. Because if that’s the case, this is pretty pointless.”

Sam pulled out his phone from his utility belt and scrolled through it. He clicked a couple of buttons and put it on speaker as it began to ring.

“Hey, Kent. Sam here. We’re going through those notebooks you provided, and we seem to be missing some information,” he said.

Sam was silent for a moment.

“What’s that? I gave y’all everything,” Kent said.

“The last four weeks, you’ve got no names. Not a single person.”

“Yeah, it’s been rough. Business slowed way down. Has been slowing down for months.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t give a tour to a single person the four weeks leading up to the murder?”

“I reckon that’s correct. It’s been brutal.”

“And why didn’t you mention this when we were there?”

Kent let out a sigh. “I don’t know. It’s embarrassing and I didn’t think it was important. Plus, that’s my business.”

“Alright. Thanks for taking my call, Kent.”

Sam set the phone down and took a deep breath.

“So, business had been slow,” Kimberley said. She had picked up enough from the call on Sam’s end to put two and two together.

“No, it had been nonexistent.” Sam rubbed his face as if he were trying to rub life back into it.

“You still want to go through these notebooks?” Kimberley tossed hers on the table.

“Yeah, may as well. We don’t have anything else to go on.”

“Bearfield and Hill, will