"I can't find one of my bags," he announces after opening and closing the drawers of a tall wooden chest.
"Did you grab it yesterday when you left maybe?" He rubs the back of his neck
"No. I wish I had," he looks over at me. "I'm gonna check the master bedroom to see if she took it to her room." He adds, sounding hopeful but pissed off by Tasha’s possible antics.
I follow him out of the room but remain in the hall.
I hear Beau gasp as he opens the master bedroom. A light is on from inside.
"Tasha," comes out quietly from his mouth, like a question. I inch closer to where he is, confused by his reaction. Is Tasha here? He slams open the door and sprints into the room. I move closer to the door but do not enter, afraid of what I might see. I’ve never seen Beau act so quickly.
The room is dominated by a larger than normal bed that is a solid black with a large canopy. It looks almost like a cube. Beau is leaning over the bed, but I can’t see what has caused him to react so strongly. I move further through the open door to see what is wrong. Every stitch of the bedding is bright red, making the black cords stand out. I cover my mouth to stifle my scream.
Tasha is in the middle of the bed nude with the cords tied around her. Her eyes are open.
I rush out, pulling my phone from my pocket.
"Oh my god, oh my god." I dial 9-1-1 with shaky hands. I hear Beau call her name a few times like he's trying to wake her. The disbelief and sadness in his voice speaks to the truth. She has died.
“911. Fire, Medical, Police?” A woman’s voice asks in a calm tone.
"Medical, Police? We need help."
“What's your location ma'am?”
"The Dakota on the seventeenth floor. I think she's dead."
"Ma'am, do you have your eyes on the woman? Is she conscious? Breathing?"
"No," I whisper, "We didn't even know she was here. Her eyes—” I see them again in my mind, “—they are open. She isn’t breathing." I hear Beau yelling for me. “Please hurry.”
"Stay on the line ma'am. Someone is on their way. They will be there soon." She begins to ask me about Tasha, “Do you know what happened? Did she fall?”
I don’t know how to answer her questions. I stumble a reply that makes little sense. Her voice is strong and grounding when she asks.
"Ma'am can you tell me your name?"
"Samantha. Samantha West."
"Okay, Samantha. Can you make sure the door is open? The EMT will be there soon."
I walk to the door on autopilot and unlock it, leaving it ajar.
I reluctantly walk back to the hallway near the door with the phone still at my ear.
"Beau. I'm on the phone with the police. They should be here soon. Will you, will you come out here please?" I don't hear a response. I step over a few feet so I can see into the room, but stop when I hear his footsteps approaching.
His eyes are sad and shiny as he looks at me and says, "She’s gone." He drops his head onto my shoulder and hugs me so tightly I feel like I can't breathe. I rub his back with my free hand. "Ma'am the EMTs are in the building. What's the number?"
"Beau, what's the apartment number?" He doesn't lift his head from my neck.
"1703," he mumbles. I repeat it in case she didn't hear it herself.
"They should be there soon.Take care."
"Thanks," she hangs up, but I keep the phone to my ear, frozen. Only a minute passes, then I hear someone rushing through the front door. "Back here," I call out.
The scene is hectic as two officers come minutes after the EMTs. They ask both Beau and I to remain in the hall as they examine Tasha and her bedroom. One of the officers watches us intently while the other talks to the EMT about calling the medical examiner.