THE BEST HOLIDAY TO DIE

Linda Hanson

Mike shivered.

“Someone walk over your grave Holiday ?”

Before she could retort, the Captain opened his door “ Holiday ! Miller! A fresh one. Get over to the Nocturn Sleep Lab on Desert Road .”

“Someone have a nightmare about zombies?” Gabe winked at her.

“I hate working holidays,” Mike sighed, ignoring her partner.

Ten minutes later, they stood in the doorway of a computer lab staring at the dead body. Her forehead on the keyboard, there was a needle in her neck protruding from an artery. Mike glanced over the computer screens viewing the eight patients with wired heads, four sitting in chairs while four slept in their beds.

“Dead girl is Clare Tillman hired for a three-month contract. She's been in Vegas two weeks,” Officer Jackson reported. “Her three coworkers are sequestered in the equipment room. Outside entry is only through the door you came through. Security and administration will have the key code besides the employees allowing for other suspects.”

Mike reached for a pair of gloves. After putting them on, she grabbed the body's red hair pulling the head back to look at the face. “Kid's younger than me. Our crew clean up the blood?”

“You see what we found.” Jackson turned to her. “You've seen this before.”

Mike ignored him trying to hide her horror at the absence of blood. She turned to Gabe as she returned the victim's head to its resting place. “You want the Frankensteins to question or three lab coats?” He shrugged. “You take the monsters.” She pointed to the screens. “Start with that wired guy staring at the camera. Tell them you're here for a computer problem.” Pointing to the dead girl, Mike whispered, “We'll have to contain this one, keep it as quiet as we can.” She turned to Jackson , “I'll start interviewing the coats in the front.”

“Guilty one first?” he asked.

“Surprise me.”

Jackson nodded. “Trick or treat.” In one hand, he held out a cup of black coffee in a white Styrofoam cup, in the other was a miniature candy bar.

Mike took the cup, glanced again at the man staring straight into the camera. He narrowed his dark eyes as if he could see her. She watched Gabe walk into the room. The man continued probing the camera until she broke the stare.

In the reception area, she settled into the leather chair behind the desk making a quick call. Pulling the top desk drawer open, she was surprised to find it not locked. Before she could search the rest, Jackson appeared at the door with a slightly overweight woman. Her pale complexion could have used some blush, something. Clearly, the woman was not interested in her appearance at work. The only noticeable color on her head was the deep purple under each eye.

“Rita Sanchez,” Jackson said.

“Worked here how long?” Mike asked.

“Six months. I was with my patients in rooms three and four since they arrived tonight. If you check the video tapes, you will see there is no way I could have killed Clare. We begin the video tape when we start wiring their head. The tape imprints the time. They will show where I was.”

“You had to walk from one room to another?” Mike watched two men wheel the stretcher with the dead body out. She already called the coroner's office to warn Soverton he needed to take this case. He was the one who had handled all the others like this last time.

Rita nodded.

“Then you had a minute or two when you are not on tape. Therefore,” Mike leaned forward, “Until I say you could not have done it, you are suspect.”

“I had no reason to kill her.”

Mike sipped her coffee. “I have heard that before. Why are some of the patients asleep already? It appeared their studies are running.”

“We stagger appointments. We should have both our studies running by ten. The earlier group of patients comes at seven. If our first patient is extremely tired, we might hurry the hook-up; do our calibration, starting the first patient's study before we wire the next head. I prefer not to do that because then we are not in the computer room to monitor them while I hook-up my second patient.”

“The patient might be extremely sleepy because?” Mike noticed Rita relaxed while she explained her job. Sitting there in her white lab coat, Mike envisioned the woman easily passing for a zombie at a party tonight if she wrapped her body in gauze.

“Some patients take their sleep medicine at home before arriving, some are sleepy all the time,” Rita glanced at the door. “Some drink before coming in,” she whispered.

“Your patients tonight?”

“They are waiting for me to start their studies. I hate to send them home. That man in bed three will be furious.”

Mike remembered the stare on the other side of the camera. “What is his story?”

“He's on the hospital's board of directors.”

“Important asshole?” Mike watched Rita's eyes open further than she thought possible. “So if you would have killed anyone tonight, it would have been him?”

“Clare should have had him.”

“Then she'd still be alive? You think he killed her? Did they have a relationship?”

“I could tell instantly he didn't appreciate my appearance.”

“ Jackson !” Mike called. “Thanks, Miss Sanchez.”

Officer Jackson appeared at the door to escort the woman away. Before the next lab coat arrived, Gabe strolled in. “Should I wake up the dead?”

“It had to be Halloween.” Mike pulled her hand through her hair massaging her scalp a minute. “What was the story in room three?” She could not eradicate the man's heartless eyes from her memory.

“Demanding his study is run or he is discharged home immediately, just an asshole. Could be him.” Gabe stuck his hand in the orange plastic pumpkin on the desk. “Hell, the victim was warm when the officers arrived at nine-thirty. If the patients have studies running with them on video tape since eight or earlier, can we discount them?” He opened the candy wrapper.

“Grab the Sanchez woman; let her monitor the sleeping ones while you check for proof of every minute, not even a second off camera to be excused. Both of you keep gloves on if the place is not dusted.”

“What about the man in room three?”

“Let him stare at the camera.”

Gabe sauntered off while Jackson sat the next lab coat in the chair opposite Mike. She knew from the officer's shove this was his pick for guilty.

“Rehman Nepto,” Jackson said. “Need more coffee?”

Mike shook her head no. “Mr. Nepto, how long have you worked here?” Because his skin also looked pasty, she wondered if it was the combination of the fluorescent lighting reflecting on the workers' white lab coats.

“I usually work in the hospital giving therapy but I was sent here for the week.”

Mike shuddered. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees in seconds. She glanced at the vent. Had the air conditioner kicked on? “How long have you lived in Vegas?”

“I arrived first of this month.”

“No orientation needed to this job or have you worked here before?”

“I know this computer system.”

“And you worked here before.” Mike drained the rest of her coffee. “When?”

“Last year.”

“I will have the employment records in an hour. When last year?” Mike leaned forward in her chair. When she did, her body shuddered. She pulled back unconsciously.

“October 30 until February 15.”

“You just met the victim?” She almost slipped. She almost said your victim.

“I just met everyone, including Clare.”

This had to be the killer she sought last year. Because all the victims were women without families, the public never discovered the series of deaths related by one thing, lack of any blood at the crime scene. City officials decided to keep it quiet. Why scare tourists away?

“Close your eyes,” he said. “It will help you focus.”

“Excuse me?” Was the man trying to put her into a trance? Is this how he quieted his prey?

“While analyzing information your brain is making beta waves. At the same time, it is making delta waves that regulate body functions. If you simply close your eyes, you can increase your alpha brain waves. The human brain is fascinating.” He sat back in his chair crossing his legs. “You noticed tonight the electrical energy the sleeping patients are generating on those screens in there? Aren't you curious about how your body works? Don't you wonder what your brain is doing while you sleep?”

Her eyes wide open now, Mike stared at him. “I'm here to discover who killed the victim.”

“Have you?” Rehman Nepto raised his left eyebrow.

“Would you like to confess?”

He smiled. “There will be no evidence, no proof, despite all the video equipment here.” He shrugged. “Did you find evidence?”

“People make mistakes.”

“People do.” He stood and looked down at her. “Anything else, Detective Holiday?”

Mike shuddered again. “ Jackson !”

After interviewing the last lab coat, she released the workers back to the computer room.

Gabe wandered back into the office where Mike slumped in the leather chair. “The Sanchez woman and I reviewed the four sleeping patients' video tapes. They have all been wired and asleep since eight fifteen. Time of death is close to nine.”

“You're sure?”

Gabe nodded. “You saw the time displayed on the screen. Rita says patients might start waking up requesting a trip to the bathroom. The other wired heads are still in their recliners. They could all be suspects. They disappear off screen, going to the bathroom, or the closet, they have time to walk down the hall to murder our girl.”

“And?”

“Man in eight, woman in five both go three hundred pounds, and are asleep. Camera guy in three could have or the woman in one possible. I'd like to haul camera guy in to knock him down a few pegs.” Gabe adjusted his glasses. “Who did it? I figure you already decided.”

“ Jackson picked the right lab coat, has to be the gentleman with a hint of gray at the temples. He's fit, a smart ass, and threatening.”

“You know what you're accusing him of?” Gabe asked.

“Something I don't believe in.” Mike straightened in her chair.

“Here's more. The victim has no family. Records indicate an old boyfriend from Philly when she worked there a year ago as her only contact. Jackson talked to the medical placement company.”

“Like all our victims last fall.”

Gabe left her alone again and Mike closed her eyes for a minute. Was her brain aligning into place? Only a handful of people knew about the string of deaths last year. She regretted she had to recall any details from the cases. It was nothing she learned about in any class. She rented horror films she never had intentions to watch. She researched books. Hunting for a killer with a bloody appetite was not something she ever planned to face.

Suddenly, she heard a crash. Running down the hall, she drew her gun before opening a closet door. Shards of glass were scattered on the floor.

“You can't kill me,” Rehman shouted. He hung from the broken window. The chair he stood on cracked at that moment from his weight. A leg broke off.

Mike holstered her gun, picked up the broken chair leg with her right arm while pulling on the man's leg with her left. He tumbled to the floor with her on top of him. Rehman's arms began to grab at her neck. Mike twisted her right arm around thrusting the wooden chair leg through his heart.

His arms fell to his side. “The best holiday to die,” he whispered.

“Mike?” Gabe and Jackson both edged into the doorway.

Rehman's eyes closed.

Jackson reached for Mike's hand. Once she felt his grip, she let herself breathe.

“Can you call it in Gabe?” Without waiting for a reply, shaking, Mike made it to her feet. She entered the computer room. Facing Rita and her other coworker Mike said, “Mr. Nepto won't be coming back. He was a traveler like Clare. They had a history. No need to tell your patients anything. We're certain the hospital will want to keep this quiet.” She glanced at the clock. “Ten-thirty. You can start the rest of the studies now. Tell them the computer problem is fixed. Otherwise, send them home, and tell them the computers are down. There will only be the two of you here tonight to take care of them, unless you can call for help.”

Rita glanced up at the screens. “I'll get him started.” Then she bolted down the hall.

Mike watched her apologize to the bored director in room three. Leaning against a wall, she closed her eyes allowing her brain waves to realign. She heard the other lab coat calling someone in to help run the night's studies.

Jackson came around the corner. In her ear he whispered, “Any more tricks up your sleeve tonight Holiday?”

Her body voluntarily quivered. “I'm ready for my treat,” she whispered back.