Chapter 3: Thpp.

Abby was getting pretty antsy as it got later and later and Shea kept on not showing up. Jimmy was trying to be optimistic about the whole thing, but she was sure history was repeating itself.

Someone was killing… again.

And, once again, they were stuck in the middle of it.

****

Madison Allen twisted and turned in her bed, far from asleep.

It was happening, all over again. Once again, someone was killing people left and right, including those she loved the most.

Well, except her mother. Money had got to her mom's mind when she found herself the sole heir to the Wellington fortune, going gallivating and leaving Madison with various nannies, and firing the ones that managed to get close to her, saying that they were only doing it for her money.

Oh, how she has wished that it was her mother who got harpooned on Harper's Island, and not her dad. Her dad at least genuinely liked her, and from what his friend told her at his funeral, was willing to fight for her.

And now? Now she had only Abby and Jimmy… at least she hoped so.

But she had a bad feeling about this one…

****

Lynda Glayve knocked on the wall in her room that had Robin's room on the other side..

"Hey!" she began to call, "Miss Matthews… stop the ruckus! Come on!"

Actually it wasn't that big of a problem, but at least she had an excuse to stop reading 'Twilight'.

'Whoever decided it should be COLLEGE COURSE material should be shot. Various times, then set on fire, drawn and quartered, chopped into pieces and fed to fishes,' she thought, 'That book is downright painful to read! The lead has no personality and falls in love because the guy's hot… but she's not shallow, God Forbid (oh, who the Hell am I kidding? She so is), and the less about Sparkle!Fail!Pire, the better'.

Then, taking out of her bookbag Stephen King's 'Carrie', she started to read, a contented smile on her face. 'Now, that's literature!', she thought.

Suddenly, someone knocked at her door.

"Hello?" she called.

"Lynda?" a female voice called, "It's me, Lisa!"

"Lisa!", Lynda said, while scrambling to go open, "something wrong?"

"No, I was just going to the pool with Bill Quinn." Lisa said, smiling, then noticing her friend's expression, "Did I interrupt you?"

"No, no," Lynda said, "I was just… trying to read that," and she pointed to the Twilight book.

"Oh…", Lisa sympathized, "I feel your pain. I tried to read it once, too. Never got past the seventh chapter. It chagrined me." They laughed. "Anyway, I knocked to ask you if you've seen Mrs. Allen somewhere. I was supposed to meet her at dinner, but she never showed up."

Lynda shook her head, "Can't say I have. Sorry,"

"Oh, don't worry," Lisa answered back, "I'll leave you to your… lectures."

And with that, she left.

'All right…', Lynda went back to Carrie, ignoring the other book completely.

****

Agent Sam Kimmel was taking another look at Mr. Robson's crime scene, trying to find something, ANYthing that could lead him to the killer.

Because if he couldn't find him or her in time… they were screwed.

But so far, he had come up with nothing. Nothing at all.

"Damn forensic shows," he muttered, "giving criminals suggestions on how to get away with it."

He barely missed someone swinging an axe at him, moving away just in time and running away.

It was only when he was safely out that he tried to remember his assailant's face…

And came up with a blank. The guy – probably a girl, he smelt a distinctive female perfume – had something on that hid their face.

'Hold the presses', he thought again, 'it was a stocking! Yeah, like that 'Blood And Black Lace' movie, it was a stocking!'

Now he knew that a killer was loose in the hotel, so he tried something that he knew would be fruitless.

He called the local police. He needed help.

****

Scott and his boyfriend, Adam Collingworth, in the meanwhile, were in their room's bedroom, talking and watching the snow falling outside.

"It's getting heavy," Scott commented, "so long, coincidence for NYC."

"Well, it could be worse," Adam commented.

"Except for being alone, how?" Scott interjected.

"There could be a maniac running loose here and killing us off one by one." Was Adam's answer.

"Have you read And Then There Were None again?" Scott joked.

"No, but…" Adam shrugged, "you know, a group of people in an isolated hotel, some of those people start disappearing… it sounds like a slasher film."

"Or a Murder She Wrote episode," Scott joked, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, I'll make you forget all bad thoughts and supposed killers on the loose."

Before he got lost in the kiss, Adam could swear that he saw an eye watching them from behind the bathroom door.

****

Bobby had just finished using the hotel's gym and was going to the men's showers when he crossed paths with Lynda Glayve, who had the room three doors down from him.

She was here because of some contest or other… trying to remember which really gave him a headache.

Even though he'd deny it if he was asked, he liked her enthusiasm and vitality; she remembered him of himself before… well, before that.

Oh well, it was in the past by now. He shook his head, waved warmly at her and walked into the men's shower room.

The warm shower was relaxing, and he barely noticed the noises… something like a thpp…

When he felt something kind of viscous under his feet, though, he began to understand something was wrong.

He looked down and gasped in horror as he noticed the substance was blood, and it was coming from the neighboring stall.

Bobby got out of his stall and opened the curtain, this time letting out a scream as he noticed Lynda was hung to the showerhead and the blood was dripping from her chest, where an arrow went through her.

So he ran to put on something and call whoever was the police in this hotel.

****

"Dr. Secor?" a female voice called to him.

Dr. Noah Secor turned to see Celine Waldorf, the elegant wife of Mr. Waldorf. He remembered all the articles about her from when she began to date the heir to the Waldorf fortune; a working class girl with the charm, the kindness and the class that most high society girls only dreamed they had.

But most of all, a young woman who was sure of herself.

So why was she in front of him, looking so frail and defenseless?

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I…" she continued, "I seem to have trouble sleeping. Couldn't you, you know…"

"I think I can do that," Dr. Secor answered her, "even though it's probably psychological."

He gave her a pill and said "This one will be enough for tonight."

Celine took it and smiled at him. "Thank you, Dr., thank you very much," she said while leaving.

Dr. Secor merely shrugged his shoulders.

****

Thpp: the arrow impaling Lynda.