Chapter 3
“Perfect,” I said. “You can bill the county.”
“I’ll need a credit card for incidentals.”
I forked over a credit card, and she programmed two keys.
“Put the reservation under Tim Wilson,” I said, not wanting any connection to either of us.
I thanked her, then escorted Paisley across the opulent lobby to the elevators. Tourists came and went, and forks clinked against plates in the dining area. A few people occupied the bar, tipping back fruity cocktails.
The door slid open, and we stepped aboard the elevator.
I pressed the button for level four, and it lit up.
The carriage stuttered, and lights flashed.
It was a brief, worrisome moment before it continued.
Paisley and I shared an uneasy glance. Getting stuck in this elevator was the last thing I wanted at the moment.
We successfully made it up to the fourth floor, and the door slid open. We stepped off the elevator, and I escorted Paisley down the hallway, keeping a cautious eye on our surroundings.
At the suite, I slipped the key card into the slot, and the light flashed green. With a twist of the handle, I pushed open the door and ushered Paisley inside. I cleared the bedroom and bathroom as a precaution.
You could never be too careful.
I put the briefcase on the bed and tried to open it.
Just as Paisley had said, there was no way to access it.
This was a high-tech briefcase. Biotech sensors on handles would read the owner’s thumbprint.
I'm sure there was some type of backup system to access the case—perhaps a Bluetooth connection with a password.
A case like this didn't come cheap. It was most likely bulletproof and tamper-resistant.
I'm sure it had GPS tracking. I hoped that tracking data would only be available to the owner.
I fiddled with it a little bit, but didn't see a way, short of taking a cutting torch or buzz saw to it. Even then, I suspected it would be difficult to get inside.
I took a picture and sent it to Isabella.
"What am I supposed to do about clothes and personal hygiene items?" Paisley asked.
"Call the front desk. Have them bring up a complementary toothbrush and toothpaste. In the meantime, if you give me your keys, I will go to your home and pick up some clothes and whatever else you want.”
She gave me a suspicious look. "I'm not sure I want to give a perfect stranger the keys to my apartment. There's no telling what you might find."
I understood her concern. "Look, if you’ve got any weed or drugs, I don't care. I'm not gonna bust you. My concern is that case and the people who shot your passenger.”
"I'm not sure I want you rooting through my panty drawer," she said with a flirty glimmer in her eyes.
I gave her a flat look. Paisley was a cute girl. "I'll close my eyes and grab a handful.”
She lifted a sassy eyebrow. "Is that what you want to do? Grab a handful?"
Now she was definitely flirting. Even a moron could see that.
"It's totally your call. Either you give me the keys to your apartment, or you wear the same clothes for the next several days."
She frowned and dug into her purse, grabbed her keys, and singled one out. "This will get you into my unit. The building code is 1929. If you find anything embarrassing in my drawers, keep it to yourself."
"I'll be in and out. Just tell me what you want.”
That was a mistake. She gave me a list of clothing items that made “Moby Dick” look like a small pamphlet. "You're only going to be here for a few days.”
"What if it's longer?”
"I can always go back and make a second run.”
"Who's going to feed my fish?”
I sighed. "I guess I am."
"You feed them once a day, and not too much. Jaws tends to overeat, and we don't want his tummy to explode, do we?”
"No, we don't.”
I dug into my pocket and handed her a card. "If you need to get in touch with me, call me from the house phone."
She nodded.
"Like I said, stay in the room. Don't go down to the bar. Don't go to the restaurant. Don't go to the pool. If you get hungry, order room service.”
"You said not to go crazy with room service."
"Don't order Kobe beef burgers or Maine lobster, and we’ll be okay.”
We stared at each other for an awkward moment.
"Are you going to be okay?” I asked.
She nodded. "Listen, thank you for everything. Those guys would have killed me if I hadn’t run into you." She frowned. "Sorry about your friend’s car."
"He'll get over it."
We said our goodbyes, and I moved down the foyer to the door. I peered through the peephole, then cracked the door open and glanced in both directions down the hallway.
It was clear.
I slipped out of the room, hurried down the hallway, pressed the call button for the elevator, and waited.
The bell dinged a moment later, and the door slipped open.
I stepped aboard and smiled at the gorgeous redhead in a stylish navy blazer and snug skirt.
She looked professional. Edible and professional.
High heels accentuated her toned calves.
I tried not to stare.
The lobby button had already been pressed.
She returned my smile with one that looked painful to form. She remained aloof and guarded as the elevator doors closed.
I was a big guy and perhaps a little intimidating in an enclosed space. I wanted to tell her she had nothing to worry about, but my word wouldn't count for much in a situation like this. She seemed a little on edge. That was before the elevator stopped and the lights went out.
She shrieked when that happened.
The elevator came to an abrupt halt with a jerk and a clunk.
“What’s going on?”
"Don't worry, I'm sure the power will come back on shortly."
It was an optimistic statement at best.