The Family Bones by Elle Marr

Author:Elle Marr [Marr, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2023-03-06T16:00:00+00:00

29

OLIVIA

The lobby is empty when I return to the main lodge, save for an employee manning the reception desk and the bartender who said hello from the tucked-away bar. How are they still working, maintaining this false normalcy? Lights flicker overhead whenever a wind tunnel hits the building. The roads still haven’t been cleared. Alfred died on the property, his body supposedly placed against a shelf of perishables in the dining hall fridge.

Recalling Zane’s promise to unveil some surprise to the most enthusiastic Eriksen on Monday, I can’t imagine what he thinks is worth remaining here. Why not call in a private helicopter—or another form of air travel with the money he says he rakes in as a surgeon?

“Excuse me,” I say, approaching the woman behind the welcome counter. Delicate braids frame a round face.

“What can I help you with?”

“How are you all—the staff—handling this? Have you guys been trapped together before?”

She stiffens. Then she composes herself with a smile. “No, not since I started working here. But we are finding comfort in routine, I think.”

I return her warmth as best I can, without hysterical laughter. Comfort in routine. As if none of them has considered there might be a killer locked in with them. Judging from her professional composure, at least she doesn’t think I’m Alfred’s attacker.

A cold gust of air circles me as a woman enters the lobby. Wearing a white button-up shirt and khakis and carrying a black book—a check presenter—she heads down the hall to the left, to the part of the lodge I haven’t explored.

If Alfred hasn’t been discovered outside the dining hall fridge yet, it could be that he’s still on ice somewhere. A server getting ready for her shift could deposit her personal items in a locker room, or grab a bite to eat in the staff kitchen—likely adjacent to another fridge or freezer.

Then again, he could be flung to the farthest corner of the property by now, or dumped to the bottom of the lake with a concrete block chained to his leg.

I thank the receptionist, then follow the woman along the carpet runner. Later, I should nose around the staff quarters. Pose a few questions to employees about the night that Alfred drowned.

Down the hallway, sandy wood panels appear darker in this part of the lodge. I pass more black-and-white photographs of the property from decades ago. Midway along the wall, a framed poster from a horror movie is the single nonphoto image. Center on the page, a woman with a torn bodice screams as a creature rises from the lake behind her.

The server turns right and disappears from view. I continue close behind, away from a gold placard that indicates guest rooms are to the left. She pushes on a swinging door. As she enters, the light above the doorframe highlights the bronze letters of a different placard that reads EMPLOYEES ONLY.

Footsteps head my way from within, and I swivel toward where I know the indoor fitness center lies. Pausing a few feet off, I busy myself staring at a framed dinner menu from the resort in 1933.

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