Page 38 of Nightcaps at The Beach House Hotel

We stepped inside to the front entrance, and I called out again.

“The living room is a mess,” grumbled Rhonda as we began to check out all the rooms, looking for her.

“The kitchen is a disaster,” I said, passing through it.

We went to the master bedroom and let out gasps of horror.

Everly lay on the floor motionless, oddly sprawled atop the carpet, as if she’d fallen.

Rhonda gripped my arm. “Maybe she’s drunk. Bernie made it sound as if she’d been drinking.”

I stared at the still body, studying it, my heart sinking. “I don’t think she’s drunk. I’m pretty sure she’s dead.”

I walked over to her and held my hand in front of her nose and mouth. There was no breath. Her lips were blue and her skin … I couldn’t look any longer. Feeling sick, I turned away. I’d seen death before.

“Oh, my God, Annie, what are we going to do?” Rhonda said.

“We need to call 911 and let Bernie know what’s happened.”

Rhonda grabbed hold of the door frame on her way out of the room. “Oh, God! I think I’m going to throw up.”

I stumbled out of the room behind her.

In the living room, while Rhonda called 911, I called our security office and then called Bernie. In a fog, I told them what we’d found. I had the sense to make sure they wouldn’t make a commotion when they came to see. We didn’t want our other guests to be aware. I could hear Rhonda telling people the same thing on her call.

We both ended our calls and faced one another.

“We’ve had only one other guest die in the hotel,” I said, still in shock.

“I can’t believe it. Everly sure knows how to shake things up,” said Rhonda. “I can’t go back in that room.”

Bernie and a member of our security team arrived together.

They went to check out the scene and returned to the living room.

“We found needles in the bathroom,” said Bernie. “We’re not touching anything. We’ll wait for the police to arrive.”

“I’m going to go down to the lobby to talk to the front desk staff and explain the need for discretion,” I said.

“I’m leaving with you,” said Rhonda. “I’ll talk to others in our reception staff, tell them what has happened.”

“Thanks,” said Bernie. “I’ll wait here with the body. I’m sure the police will want to talk to you about this. I’ll meet you in your office as soon as I can. We’ll want to release some sort of statement.”

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Rhonda and I went downstairs together. I couldn’t stop shivering. “Is this the result of the bad feeling you had?”

Rhonda sighed. “Something like it. I knew I shouldn’t leave for vacation, but I didn’t think it would be because someone died here.”

“We’ve gotten through a lot of traumatic situations. I know we can do it again,” I said, trying to reassure myself along with her. “As soon as possible, I’ll go home and talk to Darryl. He won’t want to be anywhere near the hotel. As soon as word gets out, newspeople will be everywhere trying to get what scraps of information they can.”

“Let’s make sure Bernie schedules more security,” said Rhonda.

“It’s going to be a bit tricky to balance things out,” I said. “We want to make a good impression of the hotel for being an elegant place to stay, and a hotel that truly does respect the privacy of their guests.”

“Everly’s family will need to be notified. How are we going to find out who they are?” said Rhonda. “Darryl?”

“We can ask him for information about who to call. I imagine funeral arrangements will be taken care of someplace else. There’s no reason for any ceremony here at the hotel,” I said, becoming angry that Everly had caused more headaches for us. Yet, a part of me felt devastated to know that she’d died alone, away from home.

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