Reunion in Death (In Death #14)(65)

"I'm going through the door with you." He kissed her hand again, because he needed it. "We've been through others. We can go through this one."

"Okay." She sucked in a breath. "Okay." And got out of the car.

She didn't know what Roarke said to the doorman, or how much money changed hands, but the car remained parked where it was.

There was a roaring in her head she knew was fear, adrenaline, and dread. It remained there, dimming her hearing so that it was like walking through water as they entered the lobby.

The floors were a sea of blues, and added to the sensation of passing through some thin liquid. There were pleasant seating areas arranged, and a bank of elevators with silver doors to one side, a long check-in counter on the other where two bright-faced young clerks worked.

There were white carnations in the buttonholes of their snappy red jackets, and a generous bowl of hard candy on the counter.

"He had funny eyes." She stared at the tidy check-in area and remembered the grubby rat hole where a single droid had worked. "One wandered everywhere and the other stared right at you. He smelled, like burning. Fucking droid's blown some circuits. That's what he said. You just stay there, little girl. Stay there with the bags and keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you. And he went up to the counter and got a room."

"What room?"

"Nine-one-one. Emergency. Better not call 911 or he'll beat the shit out of you. Oh God."

"Look at me. Eve, look at me."

She did, and saw so much in his face. Concern, fury, and hints of grief. "I can do it. I can do this." She took a step toward check-in, then his hand took hers again.

"Good afternoon." The female clerk spilled welcome all over them. "Will you be checking in today?"

"We need room 911," Roarke told her.

"And do you have a reservation?"

"Nine-one-one," Roarke repeated.

Her smile faltered a little, but she began to work with her screen. "That room is blocked for a guest arriving this evening. If you'd like another room with a kitchenette, perhaps-"

He felt Eve reach down, knew she was going for her badge. He gave her hand a warning squeeze. "It's 911 we need." He'd already measured her. Some you bribed, some you intimidated, some you flattered. And others you simply rolled over. "The name's Roarke, and my wife and I will be needing that particular room for a bit. If there's a problem with that, you should speak to your supervisor."

"Just one moment, sir." Her face wasn't so friendly now, and her voice had cooled to that "You're a troublemaker" tone. She slipped through a door behind the counter. It took only twenty seconds or so before a man came rushing out ahead of her.

"I apologize for the wait, Mr. Roarke. I'm afraid my clerk didn't understand. We weren't expecting-"

"We need the room. Room 911. I take it you understand?"

"Of course, of course." He tapped nervous fingers over the screen. "Whatever we can do for you. Welcome to The Traveler's Inn. Angelina, get Mr. Roarke's keycode and guest packet. We have two restaurants," he continued. "Marc's for fine dining, and The Corral for casual. May I make any reservations for you?"

"That won't be necessary."

"The Sunset Lounge is open from eleven a.m. to two a.m., and our gift shop carries souvenirs, apparel, snacks, and various sundries" The words tumbled out of his lips and he looked slightly terrified. "May I ask how long you and your wife plan to stay with us?"

"Not long." Roarke handed over a debit card.

"Ah, yes, thank you. I'll just scan this. We'll be happy to assist you with any of your plans or needs while you're in Dallas. Transportation, sightseeing, theater."

"Just the room, please."

"Of course. Yes, indeed." He handed back the debit card, then offered the keycode and the guest packet. "Will you need assistance with your luggage?"

"No. See that we're not disturbed, won't you?"

"Of course. Yes. If you need anything, anything at all..." he called after them as they walked to the elevators.

"He's wondering if we're going up there for some quick sex," Eve said. "You don't own this place, do you?"

"I don't, no, but he's certainly wondering if I'm going to."

The elevator opened and yawned, Eve thought, like a big, greedy mouth. She stepped into it. "I could've used my badge, kept your name out of it."

"This was simple enough."

"I guess. Anyway, it took my mind off things, watching you work him. Another ten seconds of you, and he'd've babbled."

The elevator doors opened again. She stood where she was, staring out at the quiet hallway.

"It was dark," she managed. "I think it was dark, and he was pissed off. But there were so many places, I'm not sure if I'm mixing it up with somewhere else. I was only outside the room twice, once when we went in. Once when I went out. I'm sure of that. It was almost always that way."

"He can't lock you in anymore."

"No." She stiffened her spine and walked out into the hall. "It smelled like wet socks. That's what I thought. Like wet, dirty socks, and I was tired. Hungry. I hoped he'd go out, get us something to eat. But more, I hoped he'd just go out. It's that way." She gestured toward the left.