I nodded. “Thanks for noticing. The cuts have healed, but they still turn red after an application of hot water.”
Holly reached out and ran a finger over one ridged spot on my flat stomach. I recoiled slightly in pain. She pulled away.
“Sorry,” she said, then she pushed past me.
I followed her inside and finished drying my hair. When I came out of the bathroom, she had poured us two glasses of clear liquid.
I smiled. “That’s not water, is it?”
She walked close and gave me mine. She smiled up at me. I could see now why Tony had hired her. It wasn’t just for her dancer’s legs. Her smile was entrancing.
“I raided the minibar,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“We need ice. I’ll go get it.”
I sipped at my drink. It was straight vodka. I made a face, then rummaged until I found a vial of orange juice or something that would pass for the real thing.
Holly took a long time coming back with that ice bucket. I muttered to myself about justifiable paranoia and I pulled on my jeans. I made sure my .32 automatic was in the front pocket.
While I waited I wondered if she would come back with someone who wanted to kill me. Could this be a setup? Was Holly an innocent bystander I’d gotten into trouble—or was she part of the trouble disguised as an innocent?
It was a disturbing thought that I tried to dislodge. I blamed Gilling. That guy was a crazy snake. He had put thoughts in my head, possibly seeking to pry me apart from one of the only living friends I had.
I tried to look cool when the tap came at the door again. I looked through the peephole. No Gray Men. No cultists. There was no one there but Holly.
I opened it and let her back inside. I checked the hallway after she came in. Empty.
“Sorry,” she said, dropping cubes into our glasses. “I had to go down a floor to find ice.”
“I see.” I took my automatic out of my pocket and put it on the dresser. When I turned around again, she was staring at it.
“You didn’t trust me,” she said.
“What? No,” I said, “I was getting ready to go look for you.”
That made her beam again. It was a glib lie, but it had worked. She found the orange juice and put a dollop in her glass as well. We stirred our drinks and sipped them. She told me how scared she’d been in the cab, and how the cabbie had been eating her up with his eyes and asking her an annoying barrage of questions at the same time. I nodded and listened. I didn’t talk about Gilling and his accusations. I figured I could save that for later or try to figure out if there was any truth in it in some other fashion. He had called her a thief, and I knew from experience he had a point there. It indicated he did really know something about her.
The second drink was gin and tonic water. For the third round, we moved on to a junior-sized bottle of merlot. I figured if we drank everything in the minibar, I was going to be sick in the morning, but I was beginning not to care.
Holly jumped on me after the merlot. Honestly, I was surprised. She straddled me while I slouched back in an uncomfortable chair. I hadn’t even noticed she’d taken off her jeans at some point. Her legs were warm and strong. Her panties were silky against my thighs. When had I removed my own pants? I recalled us talking about comfort and now…
The kissing and touching began in earnest. Soon I wasn’t thinking anymore. At one point, I pushed her off and held her up in the air for a moment with our faces inches apart. She didn’t weigh much and she didn’t squirm, so I kept holding her up. We studied each other’s faces.
“Why the sudden interest?” I asked.
“More paranoia? Have you forgotten I was chained in a cellar, and you came to get me? You risked everything.”
I thought to myself that I’d really lucked into finding her, but there was no way I was going to tell her that. I stared at her for a few seconds longer, then finally relented. After all, a man has to make the most of his opportunities. We made love a time or two and fell asleep at dawn. By noon the next day, I had to work hard to shoo Holly out of the room.
“What?” she asked, fooling with her hair. “Are you out of cash already? I can pay for the room if I have to.”
I finally explained that
no one
had paid for the room and we had to get the hell out before someone figured out this detail.
Holly looked around the room and giggled. “You crazy bastard. I’ve pulled a lot of moves in my life, but this is a new one. It’s exciting.
You
are exciting, Quentin.”
I hustled her out of the room before she could tempt me back to the disheveled bed. Foreign maids were the only people we met in the hallways as we left. They glanced at us with blank expressions. Did they know? I decided it no longer mattered if they did.
It was on the way down to the lobby that my phone rang. My cell was still in Holly’s purse. She pulled it out, and I reached for it. She ignored my hand with an impish grin and answered the call.
“Hello?” she asked, then paused. Her grin faded. “Well, who’s this?” Another pause. The grin was gone now, replaced with a twist of her lips. “Yeah, he’s right here.” She handed me the phone.
I took it, looking at Holly quizzically.
“It’s Jenna somebody,” she told me.
I felt a jolt of embarrassment. She looked at me with her eyes narrowed. I sighed. I supposed these two were bound to come into contact eventually.
I took the phone. “Jenna?”
“Mr. Draith?” she said. Her voice sounded cold.
“Yeah, I…” I began. I made a small move to turn away from Holly. It was automatic, but it was also a mistake. In an elevator, privacy really isn’t possible.
Jenna was telling me something in my ear, something about where she was and needing me to come by. I finally caught on.
“You’re all right?” I asked. “I’m staying in a different hotel now. Yeah.”
I noticed Holly’s expression had shifted from a smile to a glare by this point. It had happened amazingly fast.
“Sorry,” Holly said. “Let me off, I’ll give you two some privacy.” She reached out and used both hands to push every button on the face of the elevator panel. The bell dinged and she got out on the sixth floor.
I pressed the cell to my chest to block the sound. “Come on, Holly,” I said as she flounced out. “Give me a break.”
“You should have told me you had a girlfriend before I made a fool of myself,” she hissed.
“I don’t have a girlfriend—she’s more of a client.”
“That’s not what
she
thinks,” Holly said. “I heard her voice change when I answered your phone. I know men, Draith. You can’t bullshit me. Don’t even try.”
“She’s married, Holly.”
“Oh, that’s even better!” she said. She tossed her head, sending her hair flying, and marched away. When she reached the hallway, she stopped because there was no place else to go. There were long lines of hotel rooms on
both sides of the elevator lobby, but no exits. She looked back and gave me the finger.
Part of me wanted to follow her and make a long series of apologies. Maybe that was what she expected. Instead, I decided to let her cool off for now. After all, I hadn’t cheated on her. We’d only gotten together the night before.
When the elevator dinged, I let the doors close and I rode down to the lobby. Thanks to Holly, I stopped on every floor. I barely listened to Jenna, who was still talking in my ear. I rubbed my face and told her to meet me in my hotel restaurant for lunch. I was starving, and I was pretty sure I was lightly hung over.
Eggs Benedict. Here I was again, eating food that made most people feel worse when they’d had a rough night. But as usual, it worked for me and I felt better. I was already wondering where Holly had gone. I figured she would be safe enough now and she would get over things eventually. She had my number and could call me when she wanted to.
Jenna came to the restaurant with my black leather bag of stuff. She stood at an impersonal distance, put the bag on the floor, and slid it toward me with her toe. I wasn’t a big believer in body language, but this didn’t look good. I waved for her to sit down.
“I don’t know, I’ve really got to—” she began.
“I found the other shoe,” I said.
Jenna stared at me for a second, then slid into the chair across from me. Her expression shifted from wariness to intense interest. “Robert’s shoe? Tell me everything.”
I had no intention of telling her
everything
, but I did give her the essential information. I told her I’d found a portal like the one she said had sucked up Robert, and there was evidence a friend of mine had been taken through it. I’d followed that friend, rescued her from some strange people, and found Robert’s shoe in the same location. I edited out what Holly and I had done all night long in our stolen hotel room after I’d rescued her.
“So, he might be alive?” Jenna asked.
I nodded. “I didn’t find anything showing he
wasn’t
alive. But I didn’t find him either.”
“Still, it’s something,” she said. She reached out her hand to pat mine where it rested on the table. “Thanks, Quentin.”
“No problem,” I said, eating the last of my brunch. While I chewed, I used the time to do some hard thinking. What should I say next? I could tell her more—about the cultists and their use of blood. But that would only panic her.
I realized she’d been talking while I was thinking. I tuned back in as I sipped fresh coffee. One cream, no sugar.
“Being an instant widow hasn’t softened anyone toward me—except for you, of course,” Jenna told me.
“What do you mean?”
“I keep getting these messages from the quickie chapel where we were married. I suppose they want to sell me more pictures, or bill me for something.”
“Messages?” I asked. “Have you listened to any of them?”
Jenna shook her head. “I just can’t face any of it. I can’t imagine how women hold up when their husbands die on them—arranging for the funeral and all of that. I suppose having years to prepare yourself mentally would help. But I can’t deal with it. I know I should, but I’ve been avoiding reality. I suppose I’m slightly mental in this regard.”
I frowned at her. “No, I can understand your reaction. I’m sure it was a shock.”
She dug in her purse and came up with an envelope. She pushed it across the table toward me. “Here’s one of their letters,” she said.
“They’ve been sending you mail too?” I asked. I took the letter and glanced at the return address.
White Rose Weddings
, it read. The envelope was business-sized and looked like a bill. I tore it open.
Jenna gave a tiny gasp and looked upset. I didn’t look up. What had she expected me to do? Ignore it? She was going to have to face up to this one. I unfolded the letter inside and read it quickly. It wasn’t happy news. My eyes flicked up to meet hers.
“Well?” she asked. “You might as well tell me, since you’ve gone and read it.”
“Um, I’m not sure what to say. It’s not good news.”
She reached for the letter, but I slid it away.
“Jenna,” I said. “Let’s go somewhere else to talk about this.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, becoming angry now. “It’s
my
letter.”
I sighed. “It says you’re not legally married.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. Her face was full of mixed emotions, mostly shock.
I swallowed, unable to think of any way to get out of telling her. If I just handed her the letter, would that be better than hearing the truth from a friend? I didn’t think it would be.
“It says Robert signed with a false name. That the license and the certificate aren’t legal. They’ve been trying to contact you to come back and clear things up.”
I explained the situation in a hushed voice and she began to quietly sob. People around us gave me dirty looks. I’m sure
they all figured I was breaking her heart. I folded the letter and slipped it into my back pocket while she wasn’t looking. The note gave details she didn’t need to hear. Robert had signed as Harry Houdini. The people at the White Rose hadn’t found this amusing. I figured Jenna wouldn’t find it amusing either, so I made the letter disappear. Not only had she been jilted, the guy clearly thought it was funny. I wasn’t even sure Robert Townsend was his real name.
I paid the check and walked her toward the elevators.
“Are you OK, Jenna?” I asked.
She didn’t answer me. The elevator dinged and two couples stepped out. Their conversation halted as they saw the two of us. Jenna had her hands over her face and was shaking with suppressed sobs. The two men looked uncomfortable and tried to avoid staring, but they did frown. The women glared at me quickly, then looked away. I realized I had a bag over my shoulder, heightening the image that I was in the act of dumping her. Jenna made no move to get onto the elevator despite the fact I had my hand holding it open.
“Should I leave you alone?” I asked.
“Come up with me. I have more to tell you.”
I nodded and guided her, lightly touching her elbow. She finally stepped into the elevator, and when the doors slid shut in front of me, I felt a wave of relief. When we reached her room, I headed for her minibar and made her a drink. She took it wordlessly.