THE DETECTIVE GONE GRAY by Jake Needham

Author:Jake Needham [Needham, Jake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Half Penny Ltd (P. Needham)
Published: 2024-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

“This is a really bad idea, David.”

Tay was speaking in a half whisper because they were creeping as silently as possible down the seventh-floor hallway.

“Really, really bad.”

David had drawn his handgun, a black semi-automatic that looked huge to Tay, and was holding it down by his leg. He glanced back over his shoulder, wiggled his gun, and pointed to Tay’s waist. Tay sighed and reluctantly drew the .38 revolver that David had insisted he carry.

“This guy shot twenty-two people with a submachine gun and we’re going to take him on with these little pop-guns?” Tay whispered. “Don’t you have a SWAT team or something you bring in for things like this?”

“The manager said this guy had paid in advance through the end of the week. That doesn’t mean he’s sitting in his room watching football and waiting for us to show up. If he’s really our shooter, he’s not in there.”

“Then why are we whispering?”

“I have a flare for the dramatic.”

When they found room 703, they silently examined the door, but there wasn’t all that much to see.

The wood laminated door that was supposed to look like walnut but wasn’t had several long scratches and a deep gouge at the bottom. Three brass-colored numerals were mounted at eye level to identify the room, and the lens of a viewer was positioned in the middle of the zero in 703. A white plastic Do Not Disturb sign hung from the faux brass door handle.

David leaned over and pressed his ear to the door next to the room number. He listened for a moment, then straightened up and shook his head. He slid the manager’s key card from his shirt pocket.

“Ready?” he whispered, glancing back at Tay.

“No.”

David slipped the key card into the slot just above the door handle. They listened to the mechanism whir until the locking bolt retracted with a thunk. In the quiet of the corridor, it sounded like a gunshot.

“So much for whispering,” David said as he turned the doorknob and darted into the room, his gun out in front of him.

Tay could feel the emptiness as soon as the door swung open. David was right. If this man had been the shooter, he wasn’t in there waiting for them.

Tay pushed the .38 back into its holster, pulled his shirt down over it, and walked into the room.

The drapes were closed, but enough light seeped around them to see the room clearly. There were two double beds with bedspreads in some grimy-looking brown fabric that more or less matched the drapes. Both beds had been made up and were untouched. The closet was standing open, and it was empty.

“He’s been gone for a while,” David said, holstering his handgun.

“Maybe this wasn’t even the shooter. Maybe this was just some guy.”

“Oh, this was the shooter, all right. You can bet on it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

David flung out his arms and closed his eyes. “I feel it, man. I feel it.”

Tay walked over to a cheap-looking dresser built out of particleboard the same brown color as the drapes and bedspreads.

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