PHOTOBOMBED: Part III

A serialized thriller! The shocking content of the note is revealed. Will it lead to answers or only more questions?

For PHOTOBOMBED: Part I, click here.

For PHOTOBOMBED: Part II, click here.

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The couple lay in darkness as the violent winds and heavy rain battered against the windows. Tired but unable to sleep, Jack stared pensively into the storm, wondering what to do next. Then he looked at Karina and was grateful to see her eyes closed and her breathing soft and measured.

He turned toward his nightstand and found the note. Although his fingers seemed to resist, he forced them to pry open the tiny slip of paper. He stared down at it, still in disbelief.

Jack and Karina Doyle

149 Merriman Road

Akron, OH 44303

The handwriting was clean and unhurried, with each letter well-spaced and each number carefully drawn. Jack wondered how he figured out their home address. Maybe he overheard their names and found them online.

But at this point, the how didn’t much matter.

The more important question was: Why them?

Jack put the note back on the nightstand and tried to get comfortable. The room felt sticky and damp without air conditioning, making sleeping even harder. He squeezed his eyelids closed once more and hoped desperately that morning would come soon…

His wish was granted. The newlyweds were jolted awake by a revving engine. Jack reflexively grabbed the steak knife he had hidden under his pillow and jumped to face the door.

“I think they’re just cutting down branches,” Karina murmured sleepily.

Jack walked to the window and looked out. A few guys from the hotel were cutting through a palm tree that had been toppled by the storm. He picked up the phone.

“Power is still out,” he murmured, coming back to bed.

“Should we just wait in the room?”

Jack shrugged. “He knows we’re here.”

“What else is there to do?”

“We need to contact hotel security. This guy has our home address. We’re not going to feel safe until we catch him.”

Karina nodded. “Why don’t you go to the front desk and see if he’s a guest at the hotel? You can explain the situation.”

“That might be the best plan.” Jack’s eyes wandered from the windows to the front door. “There’s no way he can get in without a key, and if he has one of those, we’re screwed anyway.”

“Just come back soon,” she said, crawling over the bed and hugging him from around the shoulders. “And I know this is a stupid thing to say, but I’m kind of getting hungry.”

They both cheered up. “I’ll come back soon,” he said as he got up, put on a shirt, and slipped on his sandals. “When I get back, I’ll knock on the door three times so you know it’s me.”

They kissed.

“If we can get through this, we can get through anything,” she said softly.

Jack sighed. “And to think, I was stressed about picking the right wedding photographer…”

They shared tired smiles.

“Remember, three knocks,” he said once more.

“Three knocks,” she said back.

Jack stepped out into the corridor and waited until he heard the door lock behind him. Their building was about a five-minute walk from the hotel lobby. On his way, he passed the laundry room, pool, and dining hall—all shuttered by the storm. More employees zoomed by him on golf carts. There was a lot to clean up.

When he reached the main entrance and stepped inside the lobby, he was instantly relieved to find that some areas of the resort still had electricity.

“How can I help you, sir?” a young man asked as Jack approached the front desk.

“I think I need to talk to a manager.”

The hotel receptionist’s expression remained unchanged. “Of course, sir. What seems to be the problem? If it concerns the power outage, I assure you that the issue will be resolved shortly.”

Jack shook his head. “It’s a safety issue. One of your guests is harassing me and my wife.”

“Oh, yes, I will phone security right away, sir,” he said as he began typing into the computer. “May I ask your name?”

“Jack Doyle. We arrived last Thursday.”

The young man hesitated a moment before glancing up from his computer screen. “Jack Doyle, you said? No, I believe I gave someone named Jack Doyle a spare room key earlier this morning. But maybe I am mistaken…”

The next few moments were a chaotic unraveling of time, space, and emotion. Jack’s legs acted without instruction, and before he knew it, he was storming up the steps and through the corridor to their hotel room. His head pulsed, and his face was hot.

“Karina!” he shouted. “Karina!” But only silence echoed back.

He continued running, but from the other end of the hallway, he could tell that the door to their room was slightly ajar. Before bursting inside, he stopped and looked down at the floor: Splashed across the pale kitchen tile was the unmistakable pattern of freshly drawn blood.

***Thank you, everyone, for joining me on this journey of serialized suspense. If you’re enjoying the series, please Like and Restack! The lives of Karina and Jack depend on it!***