At sporadic intervals a bell rings to signal arrival of another customer to the donut shop but no one enters. Each time it happens the cashier stares through bulletproof glass at the solitary patron who lingers inside his establishment, wondering what she could possibly be doing to trigger the motion sensor. Aside from taking occasional sips of coffee the woman barely seems to move. Once again he follows her eyes to an abandoned motel across the street and tries to fathom why she stays so fixated upon the dilapidated structure. Stagnation hangs over the All-American Lodge like a shroud. It...

At sporadic intervals a bell rings to signal arrival of another customer to the donut shop but no one enters. Each time it happens the cashier stares through bulletproof glass at the solitary patron who lingers inside his establishment, wondering what she could possibly be doing to trigger the motion sensor. Aside from taking occasional sips of coffee the woman barely seems to move. Once again he follows her eyes to an abandoned motel across the street and tries to fathom why she stays so fixated upon the dilapidated structure. Stagnation hangs over the All-American Lodge like a shroud. Its profound aura of desolation discourages even dealers, vagrants, and courtesans from utilizing the premises. Slowly the cashier becomes aware that the woman carries a peculiar energy of her own. The boulevard teems with activity but none of the street hustlers has approached her. As he ponders this new oddity the woman twirls a key to room 206 of the All-American inside her pocket. Her mind floats back to the single, long-stemmed rose placed on a night table. A folded piece of paper had lain alongside it. When she opened the note showers of sparkling, crystalline powder had drifted over her fingertips. Two black hands converge on the number 12 as the kitchen clock in the donut shop strikes midnight. Reflexively the cashier glances at the antiquated device to verify the time before examining the security monitors next to it. Split screen video feeds show two exterior views of the street and parking lot and two interior views of the store. The female customer does not appear in any of the surveillance footage and the small expanse of empty tables show no sign of recent usage. How could the woman have left so quickly? The cashier jerks his head toward the booth where she still sits quietly gazing through the window at the ghostly, derelict motel.. (This video contains footage of the mysterious, gut-wrenching demise of Tanya Danielle inside room 206 of the All-American Lodge in Inglewood, California.)