Hotel Mystery Novels & Stories

"What have you found?" Cody continued, "I've reviewed security footage, and it seems that a note was slipped under your hotel room door while you and Mia were out. I'm trying to trace how the mole might have gained access to that area." Claus couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine. He was aware that Cody was unknowingly inching closer to exposing himself if he was indeed the mole. "I see. Thank you for your diligence, Cody." However, Claus was quick to change the subject, maintaining his facade. "By the way, Cody, what was our hotel room number?"

The words followed them all the way back to the hotel. Assuming we survive the night. Nobody laughed. Nobody dismissed the remark as paranoia. Not after everything that had happened. Not after the shootings. Not after Claire Bennett's murder. Not after discovering that powerful people had spent nearly three decades burying the truth. If anything, Elias sounded realistic. That frightened everyone more than they cared to admit. The hotel occupied the upper floors of a modern building in downtown Tucson. Detective Morales had arranged additional security.

~*~ With a sigh, he looked at me almost tiredly and undid my seatbelt, “Just please for God's sake listen to me when I tell you what to do inside there." “Absolutely!" I smiled and got out of the vehicle. The place was cold, dark, and smoky. Of course, it was from the heavy smokers that loitered around. I walked closely next to Sinister as he instructed and followed him to the receptionist. Now that I looked around the place a bit more, it seemed like a five-story motel. Although, it was quite eerie for my taste. A strange man with the most crooked teeth bedazzled with silver and gold grinned at me as he walked past us and I grabbed Sinister’s hand unconsciously. A few seconds passed and Sal

Apparently, everyone is against me getting my hands dirty “Harry, can you connect us to the Huntress’s line?” I request. “I’ll try, boss. I’m not getting any reception from them. Foxtrot team entered a building, and umm...” He zooms into a frame with a view of an old building. “Here. They’re here. Holiday Motel. It’s abandoned, so there’s no CCTV inside, only on the street across it.” I tap his shoulder. “Give me an update when you find something.”

If I wanted these secrets buried for good then that means they would have to die, and I knew exactly how to do it. The next night, I pulled into the Blue Moon Motel’s lot, the neon sign flickering, the place a dump where nobody asked questions. I wore a black hoodie, my Glock tucked under it, and slipped into room 12, the air stale with mildew. Hayes was already there, his suit wrinkled from the flight, his bald head gleaming under the dim lamp. He stood by the window, sipping cheap whiskey from a plastic cup, his eyes narrowing as I shut the door.

They don’t stay quiet for long. I grabbed my jacket again, clipped my silver-lined blade to my belt, and stuffed a small charm pouch into my pocket. Never leave home without one. Especially not for a job that smells this much like bait. The motel looked exactly how I pictured it: haunted. Flickering sign. Cracked windows. The kind of place where bad things happen and no one calls the cops because they already know it won’t help. The front office was dark, probably empty, and the lot was a mess of overgrown weeds and old beer cans.

he wrote, the syrupy sweetness of his words making my stomach churn with disgust. I clenched my jaw, barely containing my rage as I imagined the smug satisfaction on Ross's face. "How fitting," A cruel smirk played on my lips. "He'll be the one trapped like a rat when he comes crawling to the Silvermoon Hotel." With a wicked glint in my eye, I tapped out another deceitful message, carefully crafting my words to allay any suspicions.

Warren added, “The motel’s cameras went down around midnight. Either a coincidence or someone very good at what they do. Someone who could easily hack into any security system they want.” “Costellos,” Logan muttered, glaring at the building as if sheer hatred could conjure the killer, “It has to be. We know they’ve got the resources and the reach.” “Or,” Warren cut in, “we’ve got a rat.” I kept my focus on Fitz, zeroing in on the access card hanging around his neck. I needed to get my hands on that card. “Where are the bodies?” I asked. “Inside,” Fitz said, gesturing toward the motel room.

As I listened to the news anchor's report, I could not help but think there was some truth to the saying that after the storm is when the flowers bloomed. When did I start getting suspicious of Vonn and his crew? Oh, right. It was after I handed over $15,000 to some dude claiming to be Vonn's ex. The more I mulled it over, the more things did not add up. I headed to the police station to share my suspicions. I thought they would laugh me off, but boy, was I in for a surprise. It turned out there had been a string of killings in town, and all the victims were rich, bachelor types living alone.

She was trying to play it off like nothing was wrong, but I was going to find out what she was keeping bottled up one way or the other. When we finally got to the motel, it was dead silent, and the environment looked terrible, and destroyed. I could see the glint of broken glass scattered all over the floor, and the major noticeable ones all over the windows. Wood splinters and fabric were spewed everywhere, and alcohol bottles and cans were littered as well, adding to the already chaotic mess. It looked like Onyx had been invaded… My heart leaped from my chest to my mouth as I reached in my pocket for my phone. “Fucking hell,” I cursed when I remembered what Henri called to inform me, some