“That’s fine, I don’t smoke anyway.”
Bill completed the forms and signed all the paperwork. Maurice handed him the card key and a copy of his receipt.
“Okay, Room 203. Upstairs on the second floor, end of the hall. Do you need help with your luggage?” asked Maurice.
“No, thanks. I only have this one bag”
“Traveling and only one bag?” Maurice asked curiously.
“Yes, well, I like to travel light. I don’t need much. I’m a widower and my children have all moved away. I don’t like sitting in one place for too long. I’m traveling the country, doing a little sightseeing.”
On his ride to Lancaster, he had plenty of time to come up with a cover story. He had enough experience as a detective to know what worked best for getting people to let their guard down. He wanted to appear as a drifter or tourist. Given his age and appearance, he assumed that a traveling widower would be the most believable story.
“I’m sorry to hear about your loss, sir. I do hope your stay is pleasant. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
Bill thanked Maurice and shook his hand, then headed upstairs. He swiped his card in the lock and entered the room. After placing his bag on the floor, he turned and locked the door behind him.
Four
Sara sat on her patio reading a book in a desperate attempt to keep her mind occupied while awaiting news from Bill. Soon the waiting and anxiety got the better of her and she went back inside to dig around the Internet for information about Lancaster and the hotel where her son Jeff was last seen. A few Google searches yielded a dozen or so websites where other people were looking for their lost friends and family too.
After about an hour of reading, she noticed a pattern. Nearly everyone that had gone missing was male, and just about every one of them was staying in the same hotel as her son. There were never any charges filed against anyone and investigations, if they even happened, were called off within days. According to many of the people on the websites, there was always video evidence of their friends and loved ones checking out and leaving the hotel. The videos were the last they were ever seen. The short investigations never revealed any foul play or wrongdoing.
Tired of waiting for Bill to call, she picked up her phone and called him. She needed to know what was going on.
“Hello?” answered Bill.
“Bill, it’s Sara. Sorry for calling. I hope I’m not interrupting, but I’m dying over here! I was wondering what’s happening.”
“Well, I just got in the room. I gave them a bullshit story about me having no family and traveling a lot.”
“Umm, a bullshit story? Are you sure about that?”
“I see you’re in good enough spirits to bust me,” Bill replied.
“Sorry for interrupting,” said Sara. “Go on.”
“Anyway, I wanted it to seem like I was a drifter with no one around to care about me. If this hotel is somehow responsible or is playing any role in Jeff’s disappearance, I want to appear to be a good next target.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? Did you at least use a fake name?” Sara asked.
“Well, I’ve got experience and it’s hard to trap someone who’s expecting it. And no, I didn’t use a fake name. I doubt they run background checks on their guests, and besides, all my credit cards and ID have my real name.”
“Okay, just wondering. Oh! Do you know about the others?”
“What others?”
“I’ve been searching around the Internet. I found a whole bunch of people talking about their friends and loved ones that have disappeared. Apparently, the police barely investigate.”
“I already met with the captain out here. No case has been opened yet, probably because Jeff hasn’t been missing long enough. He didn’t say anything about this being a recurring problem. Anyway, try to keep calm, Sara. I’m gonna get settled in since I just got here. I’ll let you know once I find anything.”
“Thanks, Bill. I really owe you for this.”
“You already said that, and you don’t owe me anything. Relax, I’m on it.”
“Good luck,” she said.
Sara put her phone down on the desk next to the keyboard and stared blankly at the monitor.
“Where are you, Jeff?” she asked aloud, then picked up the phone again and tried calling him again. The same as last time, it didn’t even ring and just went straight to voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message.
With a sigh, she stood up and walked to the kitchen to begin making dinner. On the wall next to the kitchen counter, the home phone rang. The caller ID showed as a private caller. Since she was chopping vegetables, she just let the machine pick it up. “Probably another damn telemarketer,” she thought to herself.
“Mom?” the voice on the machine said.
Sara dropped the knife and rushed to pick up the phone.
“Jeff?” she asked with no response. “Jeff!” she screamed hysterically. “Honey! Where are you? Are you okay?”
The silence from the other end of the line finally broke and turned to laughter.
“Who is this? You cruel son of a—”
“Fool,” the voice replied plainly and then hung up.
Sara immediately tried to call back but was unsuccessful since the caller’s number was blocked. She slammed the phone down, rushed to the other room, and grabbed her cell. When she dialed Jeff’s number, she was once again sent straight to voicemail. She hung up and plopped down into the chair, crying.
Five
With his duffel bag on the hotel bed, Bill opened it and removed a stack of clothing, placing it on the bed next to the bag. Reaching back into the bag, he retrieved a cardboard box and carried it to the desk. He lifted the lid on the box and pulled out three small cameras, each approximately the size of a nine-volt battery. This was some of his most trusted surveillance equipment. Each camera was capable of recording several hours of audio and video, which could then be copied off to a computer via USB cable for manipulation, if needed, and archiving.
Behind him, there was noise and a voice coming from the hallway. Bill quickly moved to the door and checked the peephole. Since his room was at the end of the hallway, he was near the ice machine. The sound and voice he had heard was nothing more than a man on his phone getting ice from the machine.
He returned to the desk and placed two of the cameras in his jacket pocket. The third camera he placed on top of the curtain rod pointing down to the room, making sure it had a clear view of the room and the door. This camera would monitor the room in his absence in case anyone entered and snooped around. He walked out of his hotel room, making sure the door closed securely behind him.
After a quick glance around, Bill felt secure that he wasn’t being watched. He couldn’t see any security cameras in this hallway. He turned left and moved toward the ice machine. At the end of the hallway was an accent table with a flower arrangement. Next to the table was a tall potted plant. He crouched down and placed a camera inside the plant near the base, slightly tilted upward to get a good view of the hallway approaching his room. In case anyone was watching, Bill pretended he was tying his shoelace. He stood back up and lifted his pant legs, faking a comparison of his laces to further the ruse. After a few seconds of glaring at his shoes, he proceeded to walk to the lobby where he decided the last camera needed to be hidden for proper coverage.
No one was present in the lobby except himself. He walked to the counter and looked around, then walked back to the tall plant in the corner near the brochure rack. Giving one last glance around to ensure he was alone, he again knelt down and pretended to be tying his shoelace while he planted the last camera inside the plant. His heart raced and skipped a beat when he was surprised by a hand on his shoulder.
“Can I help you, sir?” the voice behind him asked.
Bill jumped up and spun around, coming face to face with the front desk clerk, Maurice.
“Yikes, you really do sneak up on people.”
“As I previously stated, sir, I tend to get that a lot,” replied Maurice. “Is there something wrong with the plant?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. I was just walking off my car ride before heading to dinner. I saw the flyers here and wanted to see if there was anything that struck my interest, food-wise.”
“Sure, sir. There are plenty of great places to eat in the area, but why were you digging in the plant? Is there something wrong with it?”
“No, of course not. It’s just… I couldn’t tell if it was real or not. The leaves didn’t give it away, so I was looking to see if there was dirt in the pot or that foam stuff.”
Maurice just grinned and said, “Nothing but the finest fake plants for our guests.”
“Yeah, I found out just a second before you arrived,” said Bill, looking down at the plant. His hiding of the camera was interrupted and he wanted to make sure it wasn’t visible.
“I’m not much of a green thumb,” Maurice continued. “Things tend to die around me.”
Bill laughed, “Things? What sorts of things?”
“Every different kind of plant I have ever tried not to kill, of course,” replied Maurice.
“Hey, you and me both. That’s why I don’t have any pets. Know what I mean?”
The two men shared a laugh.
“Well, I’m off to dinner. Take care, Maurice. Have a good night.”
“You too, sir. Enjoy your dinner.”
Bill walked out of the lobby into the parking lot and got into his car. Maurice watched him intently as he drove away, then turned and looked at the plant that Bill had been so fond of. He approached the plant, bent over, fixed a couple branches that were out of place, and then headed back to his office.
Six
When she finally finished crying and was collected enough to speak again, she called the police to report the prank call that had ended with her in tears. Someone knew that her son was missing and decided it would be an excellent joke to play on her. Someone knew, but how? It wasn’t news yet. She had only told Bill.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Yes, this is Sara Parker. I just received a prank call.”
“Mrs. Parker, a prank call is not an emergency.”
“No, you don’t understand. My son Jeff is missing and they pretended to be him. No one knows he’s missing, so how could this happen? I think he’s in trouble and the call was from the person responsible.”
“Mrs. Parker, it was probably your son playing a joke on you. Regardless, you need to call the phone company to trace the call. This is not an emergency and we need to clear the line.”
“No! Wait!” she yelled, but the call was already disconnected.
She then dialed 6-1-1 and got a telephone customer service representative on the line. They informed her that in order to trace a call, she needed to have the service enabled on her phone before the call was placed. Furious, she threw the phone across the room.
“Why won’t anyone help me?” she yelled. “Why does it have to be so difficult?”
Sitting down to think for a moment, she realized that the only person willing to help was Bill. Sara grabbed her cell and called Bill, but he didn’t answer. Instead of leaving a voicemail, she hung up and called Jeff’s phone again. Once more it went to voicemail. This time, she decided to leave a message.
“Jeff, it’s Mom. Please call me, sweetie. I’m worried. Your boss says you’re on vacation. I can’t get ahold of you. Bill’s out there looking for you,” she paused for a second and looked over at the computer monitor with the search results still on the screen. “Maybe I should be, too. I’m coming for you. Please be safe.”
Sara hung up the phone, powered off the computer, and went to her bedroom. She grabbed a suitcase off the shelf of her closet and tossed it onto the bed. Quickly gathering a pile of clothes and other necessities, she packed the suitcase and brought it to her car. From behind the wheel on the way to the airport, Sara placed another call to Bill’s phone with no answer.
At the airport, she valet-parked the car, went inside the terminal, and bought a ticket to Lancaster. Within two hours, she was on her way north to help Bill find her son.
Halfway through the flight, the woman sitting next to her could see she was in some sort of distress.
“I’m sorry, are you okay?” the woman asked. “It’s just… I don’t know. You look troubled.”
Sara just looked at her and didn’t say a word. A tear formed in her eye and the woman reached over and gave her a hug.
“My son is missing. I’m on the way to find him.”
“In Lancaster?” the woman asked.
“Yes, how do you know?”
“I’m from there. I’m on the way home now from visiting my brother down in Orlando. My name is Jan, by the way.”
“Sara. Pleasure. How did you know it was Lancaster?”
“Educated guess. He’s not the first, you know. Was he staying at the Home Away From Home Suites?”
“Yes! What is going on?”
“Like I said, this isn’t uncommon, unfortunately,” said Jan. “Lots of people go missing in my town, more lately than ever, and every one of them was last seen at that hotel. It’s only ever tourists, no locals… but then again, why would a local stay at a hotel, really?”
“If this is so common, why’s it still happening and why hasn’t anyone done anything about it?”
“Well, the police do check into it and follow up, but with video evidence, they can’t do much. People just check out and disappear. Of course, there are the stories and such.”
“What stories?” asked Sara.
“Um, well, there’s a legend about devil worship.”
“Devil worship? In Lancaster? Seriously?”
“Well, the story tells of a legend about devil worship on the site where the hotel was built, a long time ago. Then, about sixty years back there was some kind of huge tragedy. An explosion or something on the site killed all the construction workers. Well, all of them with the exception of the foreman. He was never seen again.”
“Jesus,” Sara said. “Hell of a story.”
“That’s not the end,” Jan replied. “They continued construction a few years later and the hotel was built on the site of that tragedy. There are people in town who think the hotel is haunted. Keep in mind that there aren’t many that believe this, and everyone else thinks they are fools or nut-jobs. Aside from these people, there are a handful of others who think the missing people aren’t even missing.”
“Well, then what?”
“They believe they are still in the hotel.”
“Like hostages?”
“No, like employees, working for the hotel doing the cooking, cleaning, maintenance, and so forth, but brainwashed and their previous lives erased. It’s silly, I think.”
“But… then they technically aren’t missing. Wouldn’t the police be able to find them easily with little investigation or effort?”
“Yes, that’s why I said it was silly.”
Sara sat quietly for a moment, staring out the window. Just as she was about to say something to Jan, a voice came on the overhead speakers:
“We’ll be starting our descent in the next few minutes. Please return to your seats and place them in the upright positions. I’m going to turn on the fasten-seatbelt lights. Thank you for flying with us.”
“Listen, Sara. They’re just dumb old stories. I’m sure you’ll find your son,” said Jan, as she placed a hand on Sara’s shoulder.
“You said this isn’t uncommon. Did any of the other missing people ever turn up?”
“Oh, I don’t know, actually. Probably. Sorry, I was just trying to be comforting.”
Seven
Having just finished dinner and developing mild heartburn from the greasy mess that he had been served, Bill arrived back at the hotel and made his way upstairs to his room. On the walk down the hallway, he noticed an envelope was sitting next to his door. He thought it was strange that he would be receivin
g some kind of mail here at the hotel and figured it was probably a copy of his invoice.
As Bill neared the door, he bent down and retrieved the envelope. Immediately, he could tell it wasn’t a copy of his invoice. The envelope had a bulge in the center and it was much heavier than any single piece of paper would have been. He tore the edge off, peeked inside, and gasped. Turning the envelope on its side, out slid one of the cameras that he had hidden previous to his departure for dinner. He caught it in his left hand and quickly looked around behind him and down the hall to see if he was being watched.
As he stood in front of the door examining the camera, he was now certain it was one of his, but which one, he wondered? It occurred to him that his presence and intentions here had been discovered. Bill picked up the camera and went into his room, locking the door behind him.
Inside the room seemed normal and as he had left it. The camera hidden on the curtain rod was still in place. From the bag on the bed, he removed his laptop and a cable. Once the laptop was running, he connected the camera and watched the video. He needed to determine who it was that found and removed the camera.
The first five minutes of the video was uneventful, so Bill decided to fast forward. He was, however, able to identify that it was the hallway camera by his room. Several more minutes went by with nothing happening, and then suddenly the screen flashed and went black. Bill stopped and rewound the video, then played it back at normal speed from the point just before the screen blacked out.
A white gloved hand reached in from the side of the frame and gripped around the screen, covering it to darkness. He rewound and watched it several times. He was not so much wondering who it was as to how they were able to get up next to the camera without the video catching them walking down the hallway towards it. The hand seemed to appear like the person was already standing next to the camera, but just out of sight.
Bill wondered who it could have been. A white glove could be a butler, or room service. Maybe it was some other member of the staff at the hotel? Who would wear a white glove? Perhaps it was just someone wearing a glove that happened to be white? One thing was clear to him, however. He needed to proceed with caution.