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Birgit nodded. She had her own issues with Father Time and his way of things.
“Hey, as a thank you for the free booze, why don’t you come over toThe Mystic Refugetomorrow night after the cocoa crawl tomorrow? We close the pools to guests at ten if you can make it that late. Have the place all to yourself.”
Chris chuckled as she said the last bit with a bit of sarcasm, and nodded.
“You know what? That sounds amazing. Thanks, B,” he replied gratefully.
“Sure thing,” Birgit replied, reaching for her driver’s side door. “Besides, depending on how tomorrow goes, I may need someone to bend an ear to me.”
“Consider it done.” Chris chuckled. “Good luck tomorrow.”
“Back at ya, bud,” Birgit replied, then shut her door.
ChapterThree
The moment Birgit woke up, she knew something was wrong. Sitting up, she looked around in the darkness, straining her ears to try and pick up on any strange noises. She checked her phone. It was 3:15 a.m., and there were no alerts from the security system. Turning her bedside lamp on, she looked around the small bedroom suspiciously. She wasn’t sure what had woken her up, but the tingling sensation moving down her spine was pressing her to find out.
After putting on jeans, sneakers, and a sweater, Birgit unlocked her living quarters and made her way down the dimly lit hall. During the remodel, they’d ripped out the old wallpaper and carpet and replaced them with warm sandstone paint and concrete floors that were painted to look like river rocks. They’d decided to keep the brass wall sconces since they went with the new theme but had worked in an option for mood lighting.
When she went through the double doors, the sound made their night shift clerk, Lorrie, jump, and then smile.
“You scared me, Mrs. Strauss.” The younger woman laughed, putting her hand to her chest.
“Please, Lorrie, call me Birgit, or B,” Birgit replied, throwing her a comforting smile. She turned away from Lorrie and took a long look around the lobby. Everything still looked perfectly decorated. The grand chandelier, hanging in the center of the room, was still draped in tinsel, and the round table that sat directly under it by a good thirty feet was still pristine. Their award was also still sitting perfectly in the center. Directly to the left of the entrance doors was the check-in for the hot springs, and it too looked unbothered. Finally, she looked up at the grand, spiral staircase, its banisters twinkling softly with Christmas lights. There was nothing out of place there, either.
“Is everything okay, Mrs. Stra−I mean, Birgit?” Lorrie asked, coming around from behind the desk.
“Looks to be,” Birgit said warily, her eyes scanning over everything once more. “Have we had any late check-ins tonight?”
Lorrie shook her head.
“No, ma’am,” she replied. “Our last guests checked in at four yesterday afternoon, and the last few guests that used the hot springs were out by nine, according to Jerry’s notes. I haven’t seen anyone since I clocked in at ten.”
Birgit nodded, her feeling of alarm still not going away.
“Should I call maid service downstairs and have them do a quick check upstairs?” Lorrie asked.
“Go ahead,” Birgit agreed. “No entry or anything like that, just have them do a sweep of the halls. I’ll check the security feed, too.”
“May I ask what’s going on?” Lorrie asked.
Birgit didn’t know what to say. That she had a strange feeling? That even though her entire day was weird and stressful, she still thought something was wrong with the hotel and not her mind? That was the last thing she needed. New rumors whirling about that she’d lost her mind.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Birgit replied, turning to her with her best carefree smile. “Holiday stress, I suppose. I guess I should get back to bed. The alarm’s gonna go off in a couple of hours, and I need all the sleep I can get.”
“Can I get you anything before you go?” Lorrie asked, still looking worried.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. I promise. But thank you. And thank you for doing such a great job at the desk. I wouldn’t have blamed you if I had come out and found you sleeping.”
Lorrie laughed softly, then nodded her head. “I couldn’t do that. I really love this job, Miss B.”
“And we love having you,” Birgit replied warmly. After taking one more look around the lobby to make sure everything looked as it should, Birgit went back through the double doors and down the hall toward her quarters.
As she passed the doors to the kitchen, she felt a shiver go down her spine and stopped. Pausing, she looked through the circular windows in the doors and peered around. Everything looked fine, but when she went to step away, something clenched in her gut. Deciding to take a closer inspection, Birgit pushed open the doors and walked into the dimly lit space. As always, Frieda had left the track lights under the cabinets on, which cast a soft glow over the sterile room.
Again, everything looked fine on the surface−but something wasn’t right. She scanned the room slowly, and as her eyes landed on the glass surfaces of the kitchen’s refrigerator units, she felt panic rise up. She reached for the stainless steel door handle and it came loose with ashhhsound, and she looked into the vats that were supposed to be holding the hot chocolate. Just as she feared, they were empty.
That’s impossible,she thought, her panic rising as she pulled out the large, empty pots. There was spillage down the sides of each of them, and they had left small droplets of chocolate on the bottom of the refrigerator. As she looked, she realized that the droplets were also on the floor. Quickly, she put the vats on the countertop and rushed to the main light switch to flip on the overheads. In the bright, fluorescent lighting, she could see the droplets of chocolate on the floor more vividly, and she followed them to the massive stainless steel sink. There, still gathered in small puddles around the drain, was what was left of the gallons of homemade hot chocolate that only a few hours ago Frieda had made and stored.
