"Lucifer said he is coming for me?" Stacey asked no one in particular, recalling Azrael's words. The horror on her face and trembling of her voice broke even Fredrick's heart.
"Stacey, I'm sure there's an explanation to all of these…" He didn't even believe his own words, but he wanted to say something, anything to make her feel better.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the group, leaving them in a state of pandemonium. Stacey's eyes were still wide in horror as the words 'Azrael, the fallen angel of light' echoed in her mind. She felt trapped in a nightmare, with no escape. "What does this mean?" her voice was barely audible.
"Calm down, everyone!" James commanded, ensuring his voice was higher than even the thoughts that plagued their minds. "Let's take things one at a time." One person had to take the reins of control, and James rose to the task.
"What do you suggest we do?" Henry asked, assuming his seat, as he confessed. "I'm gradually coming to my wits end."
"I know we are all scared, but let's tackle Frederick's case first. We might at least be able to lay hold of those nitwits and get close to solving this riddle."
"I think he has a point. We have to start with the seemingly possible. Then maybe, those people would be able to tell us about Stacey's dreams too." Louisa lent her voice to James' suggestion.
Stacey and Frederick just stayed curled up in their shells, without making a sound. Every word they heard sounded like Greek to them, so they allowed the adults do all the talking.
"I have no objections whatsoever.
"Neither do I." Susan seconded, pulling her jacket together, like it could cover the ice cold shivers in her spine.
"On that note, I have to call Irvin Vasquez now. He owes me a favor. I guess, the time to cash in on it has come."
"Perfect."
James excused himself to the pool side, while he dialed Irvin's number, explaining why he needed his help with the footages. He couldn't disclose the entire truth, but he gave off just enough to make clear the direness of the situation.
After what seemed like forever, James returned from his call with a grim expression on his face.
"What did he say?" Frederick asked.
"Irvin has agreed to help us. I told him it was a matter of life and death."
"Let's head out immediately. No point dragging things on." Susan hinted, already grabbing her purse.
"Not so fast, honey. I will go to the hotel with Henry and Frederick, while you ladies will stay home. We need to be careful. We don't know what we're up against. Don't worry, we won't be long."
The feminist in Stacey roared to life, at her father's assertion. "Dad, you didn't just say that. What do you meanby, the ladies will stay home? Doesn't this concern all of us?" She asked in the most disapproving tone.
"Mr. Brown, I think all of us can actually go, unless you want a lecture on women rights?" Frederick whispered to James, with a caustic smirk to it.
"And who asked for your opinion, dandy? Last, I checked, I was talking to my father! Not some guy with entitlement issues." Stacey charged at him, causing Frederick to throw his hands up in surrender.
"Easy, tigress. Whatever rocks your boat."
"I think the ladies can come along. Besides, we'd feel much more relaxed if we can keep an eye on them." Henry offered.
Stacey didn't mean the ladies needed anyone to chaperone them, but she wasn't going to argue with Fredrick's father. So, she held her peace.
"Fine. I am not in the mood for an argument. We can all go." James huffed, leaving the garden.
The clouds were thick with rain by the timethey arrived the hotel, though it was still the peak of day. They first made a quick stop at the club to ask a few questions about Carina, but no one seemed to know a thing.
James and Henry led the way with impatient strides through the giant revolving glass doors, while Fred and the ladies traipsed behind.
The head of operations at the hotel, a fine gentleman in his early thirties was already waiting for them at the lobby, when they made their way towards him.
"Mr. Vasquez asked me to assist you with whatever you need. He briefed me on the reason for you visit. He smiled, stretching his hands towards James.
James indulged him in a firm handshake. "And you are?" He tried verifying. He wasn't taking chances.
"Taris Hayford."
"Thank you, Mr. Hayford."
"This way please."
He led them through a maze of corridors, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the hotel's ventilation system. Fredrick's heart raced with every step, his senses on high alert.
Finally, they arrived at the control room, a dimly lit space filled with rows of monitors and technical equipment.
The men on duty greeted Taris and acknowledged the guests with him.
"We need to check out some of the footages. Mr. Irvin has given his permission." He explained.
"One second, please." The head of the team responded, excusing himself to make a quick call. He returned after about thirty seconds. "You can proceed."
The men only relaxed when they heard about their boss's approval. They never let anyone, not even Taris anywhere near the footages. The only way to get them other than the boss's approval was with a police warrant.
"Which day precisely are we looking at?"Taris enquired.
"Exactly a week ago." Came Frederick's response.
The young man attending to them scanned a couple of folders on the 3D screen monitor, moving the cursor with smooth ease and mastery. He finally found the footage from the said day and clicked it open.
Every one peered down on the screen in an instant. And then, they saw it – or rather, they didn't.
The footage showed Fredrick entering the elevator and leaving to his room all alone… No trace of the tattooed man. Even the footage of when he returned from the club left everyone with questioning, confused looks. He wasn't accompanied by any lady - just him talking and smiling by himself.
"This can't be right. I know what I saw." Beads of sweat were already forming a poodle on Fredrick's forehead. "Was it edited?" He knew it was a ridiculous question, but how else was he to explain what he just saw.
"Of cours not!" The man in charge defended immediately. They couldn't possibly mess with footages, or Mr. Vasquez would have their heads on a stake.
"I can swear on my life that I encountered those two that day. I can't possibly be hallucinating or making up stories." He needed someone to believe him and tell him that he wasn't going nuts.
"Fred, pull yourself together. We will check again." Henry reassured him, but it didn't do anything to calm his frazzled nerves.
"Please, let's review the footages again." James implored.
"Yes, please." Stacey added. There was no sarcasm in her voice, just fear. Who was doing this to them and why? She desperately needed answers, and those footages were supposed to provide them with something to work with; not leave them more confused and scared.
They went over the footages again, and again, but there was nothing different.
Stacey was covered in goose bumps as she watched the footages. She regretted coming, though she dared not be vocal about that. Truth is she wanted to see the girl Frederick had spent the night with, not discovering footages that are at the verge of making her pee her pants.
"I urgently need to use the restroom."
No one paid attention except Taris who had been stealing glances at her the whole time.
"Come with me."
"Oh, thanks." Stacey remarked following him out.
When they got to the area that led to the restrooms, Stacey insisted that Taris goes back to the control room. "I'm certain I can find my way back. It's just down the hallway, a turn to the left, a little further down, and another left turn, right?"
Taris agreed without making a fuss. Stacey seemed like a strong willed lady, he liked that. "Right. Okay… Miss."
Stacey locked the door behind her, sitting on the closed toilet seat. She needed some time to think. Everything was happening too fast. At this rate she couldn't say who had the most ridiculous, nerve shattering encounters - she or Frederick.
As she held the nozzle to flush the toilet, suddenly the lights began flickering with a strong intensity, drawing her attention.
"Who's there?" Her voice was quivering. "Mr. Hayford?"
No response.
The light steadied for a few seconds and resumed its flickering, this time staying off longer. At first she thought someone was playing a prank on her, but shit got pretty scary. Stacey was already soaked in her perspiration. She turned on her flash light and tried opening the door but it was jammed.
Trapped!
She tried to put a call across to her father, but her network bars were empty. She felt like the prey in a horror movie. She began pulling frantically, banging on the door.
Stacey's scream was stuck in her throat as she heard footsteps approaching – she was not alone.