Murder Takes the High Road(8)

The airport was just across the road, literally a few yards away from where I lay. If I was going to pull out of the tour, sooner would be better than later. Later was going to be a huge hassle for everyone. Later was going to look like—and feel like—Trevor drove me off. Whereas I could get up, pack my bag, quietly leave tonight and... Trevor would still have driven me off, but it wouldn’t feel so much like the failure it would five days from now.

Strangely enough though, I wasn’t so sure now that I wanted to bail.

Yes, I had been bored and out-of-sorts at dinner, and yes, being around Trevor made me miserable, but I was here in Bonnie Auld Scotland. At long last I’d stopped talking about traveling and actually started traveling.

And I was going to meet my favorite author in the world—spend four nights in a castle on an island in Scotland, which even if the castle wasn’t owned by Vanessa, would be a really cool thing.

Plus, there was my new roomie John, who had definitely aroused my interest. Not that interest—although he was vaguely attractive, I guess—the interest that was more like curiosity. The intense curiosity that was programmed into the genetic code of every real mystery reader.

I listened to the rain, which was coming down pretty hard, a restless tick-tick against the window.

It would be a cold, wet walk to the airport. Whereas this bed, though narrow and suffering a pillow shortage, was warm and reasonably comfortable.

I continued to weigh the options while my eyelids grew heavier and heavier...

*

I woke to the sound of someone moving furtively in my bedroom.

I opened my mouth to yell, then remembered that you weren’t supposed to yell if the burglars were already in your space. You were supposed to be very quiet until you could slip away to safety. While I was reasoning this through—and realizing that there was no quiet way to disappear right out from under someone’s nose—I remembered I was in a hotel room in Scotland and that my roommate seemed to be sneaking into his clothes in the middle of the night.

No. He probably wasn’t sneaking. He was probably trying to be considerate.

I said, “I’m awake, if you want to turn on the light.”

John’s silhouette jumped about a foot and swore. He said with a hint of accusation, “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I’m a light sleeper.”

I could tell from his silence that he didn’t like that. And I didn’t like that he didn’t like that, because why would he be worried about me sleeping through whatever he was getting up to?

Not for the first time it occurred to me that there was something a little odd about John.

“I can’t sleep,” he said brusquely. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Okay.” I peered at the clock on the low table between our beds. One o’clock in the morning. I’d have been a little uneasy about walking around a strange city in the middle of the night, but clearly John was a more adventurous soul. You probably had to be pretty resilient to sell insurance for a living.

I closed my eyes—only to jerk awake at the sounds of commotion in the hall outside.

The room was still dark. In fact, it felt like only a minute or two had passed, but a quick glance at the clock indicated it was now five-thirty in the morning.

I was trying to analyze the memory of the sound that had woken me—it sounded a lot like a cow kicking a glass milk can over—when I heard the door lock turn.

I raised my head as the door inched open. A pale form hovered for a moment and then cautiously stuck his head in as though to make sure the coast was clear.

I reached up and snapped on the light. Both John and I winced in its glare.

“What the hell?” I inquired. Politely, I thought, given the circumstances.

“Oh, you’re awake,” John said. Ever so casually.

“Again.” I continued to squint at him from beneath the hand shielding my eyes.

“Er...yeah. Sorry about that. The maids left their cleaning cart in the hallway.”

“And you thought you’d take it for a spin?”

“Ha! No. I didn’t see it in time.” He held his phone up as though in explanation.

“Are you in for the night? Or still doing laps?”

He pushed the door wide-open and stepped inside. “In for the night. What’s left of it.”

“Thank God.” I turned the light off, flopped over onto my pillow and went back to sleep.





Chapter Three

John slept peacefully through the alarm going off at six-thirty.

He continued his dreamy slumbers while I showered, shaved, packed, and shoved my suitcase into the hall so it could be carted down to the bus. And he was still dead to the world when I stepped out, letting the hotel room door shut loudly behind me, and headed down to breakfast.

“I hear we have a new recruit!” Laurel Matsukado greeted me in the line for the breakfast buffet.

“Yep. He flew in last night.”

“There’s no info on him in the bios.”

I was a little disconcerted at how diligently my fellow travelers had studied for our trip. I had glanced at the bios, sure, but that’s about all I’d done. Lucky for me, I had a good memory—a good memory being essential in my line of work, as Yvonne could testify.

I said, “No. Alison told me he’s an insurance salesman from San Diego.”