“I hate traitors,” said Mark. “When I find him I’m gonna bury his body in the woods.”
“Speaking of finding somebody,” said Chewie. “Check this guy out from earlier today. This the dude?”
Mark and Antonio stepped over to the monitor. This screen showed what appeared to be a family of Asians in a lower floor hotel hallway.
“Which one?” Mark frowned. “This one? That ain’t him.”
“The man in the baseball cap,” said Antonio. “On his cell phone. That’s Ang Wang.”
“I knew it!” Chewie pumped his hands up and down in the air. “When I was watching them earlier I figured he was with the family, you know? But then everybody goes into the room except him. I tried to find him in the stairwell or in the hallway, afraid he was going to start banging on doors to find his group, but he was gone. Watch. There they go into the room…”
“And he disappears,” said Mark. “Vending area?”
“Wrong end of the hallway,” said Chewie.
“Maybe he did go in and we just missed it.” Mark looked at Antonio.
Antonio asked, “What floor was this?”
“Twenty-one,” said Chewie.
“The attic,” said Antonio.
“Where they store all the furniture?” Mark shrugged. “Why not? He has a master key.”
“Nope,” said Chloe. “The attic is a hard key, not a magnetic lock. The mechanism was never changed out after original construction.”
Chewie pushed away from the monitor. “And I don’t have camera coverage down at the end of that hall because there’s no guest rooms. Can’t see shit.”
“So it’s not the attic,” said Mark. “He can’t get in there unless he got a key from his mystery friend on the inside. And only housekeeping has that key.”
Antonio inhaled deeply, thinking. “We cannot underestimate our opponent. He has proven extremely resourceful thus far.” He removed his BlackBerry and scrolled through his email, brining up the images of the broken furniture from Ang Wang’s suite. He held it out to Mark. “Ah-ha.”
“Ah-ha,” said Mark.
Chloe and Chewie looked at each other, then back to Antonio and Mark. “Ah-ha-what?”
“Tricky little jerk,” said Mark. “He busted up the furniture in his suite so Housekeeping would have to replace it with stuff from the attic.”
“Thus allowing access. Is there camera coverage in the stairwell on that floor?” Antonio asked.
Chewie nodded. “Yeah, but it doesn’t record. We don’t even pay attention unless someone calls us to tell us to watch the stairwells.”
“What about the woman that was taking a whiz?” Mark tapped the counter. “You were watching that.”
Chloe said, “We followed her in there real time. She was stumbling around drunk. Figured she was going to throw-up and we wanted to give Housekeeping a head’s up.” She shrugged. “Sorry guys.”
“That’s fine,” said Antonio. “I believe we can assume he waited in the stairwell until Housekeeping arrived with the broken furniture from his suite. When given the opportunity he extricated himself from the stairwell and caught the door before it closed, or simply slipped inside unseen while it was propped open.”
Chewie smiled at Chloe. “Extricated. I love listening to him talk.”
Mark tapped Antonio on the shoulder. “Hey.”
“Yes?” Antonio turned his attention to a monitor on the wall where Mark was pointing. It was the Villa corridor. On the screen the door to the corner suite opened and Max Allen could be seen dropping an armload of what appeared to be all the food from his kitchen into a pile in the hallway. Antonio watched in astonishment as Max looked first one way down the hall, then the other, and then ducked back inside his room and closed the door. “I need to see the footage of five minutes before that moment. Then I had better be going.”
“I’ll check out the attic.” Mark was glaring at his wristwatch. “This night is never going to end.”
Chewie said, “By the way you owe me ten bucks, dude.”
“Oh shut up.” Mark popped the tab on his soda. “Dude.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Max rifled through the kitchenette cabinets of his corner suite, grabbing what was left of the snack foods, he could hear Shannon running water in the small guest bathroom off the entryway. Arms full of Doritos, Fritos, a six-pack of Diet Coke and a few Snickers bars clutched in one hand, he hurried past the closed bathroom door and pressed his body against the front door of the suite, trying to find the handle with his free hand. The bag of Doritos exploded in his arm. His heart exploded in his chest.
Brandon shot me through the door!
That ridiculous thought left as quickly as it came with the smell of powdered cheese and the feel of Doritos cascading down his legs.
Shannon called out from the bathroom behind him. “What was that noise?”
Max said over his shoulder, “Huh?”
“I heard a noise. Is everything okay?”
“I stepped on a…balloon.”
“A what?”
Max looked down at the marble entryway now redecorated with a broken mosaic of tortilla chips. “There was a party in here last night. Guess housekeeping didn’t finish cleaning up.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Just give me a minute before you come out.”
“I don’t mind. As long as they changed the sheets on the bed.”
Max opened the door as quietly as possible and dropped the food in the pile in the hallway. He looked up and down the corridor again. Thank god it was late enough where no one was out there to see what he was doing. With his foot he swept the fallen chips into the hallway, and brushed the remaining crumbs into the closet. He rushed back through the suite. Why had he done this? This was completely ridiculous. What other choice had he had? Shannon needed another room. He had no idea if the villas were all rented out, and even if they weren’t, he didn’t know which ones were vacant, and even if he did, he had given the master key back to the security guard. The only suite that he knew for a fact that had nobody inside it was his own corner suite. The problem was it had all his stuff inside it, and it did not look vacant. Luckily Shannon wanted to clean up in the bathroom and take her sleeping pills, giving him time to get rid of everything. But the food wasn’t everything. What else…
Clothes.
Where did Antonio put his clothes?
Bedroom closet. He yanked that open and found a collection of shirts and trousers on hangers. He bear hugged the whole bunch and lifted them off the closet rod. Then he kicked the door closed with his foot.
“Can I come out?”
“Okaaaa-ay!”
The sound of the guest bathroom door opening followed the sound of clinking hangers as he dumped the clothes onto the bed and spun around in time to see Shannon walk into the living room, patting her cheeks dry with a hand towel. She was wearing a man’s dress shirt and the same nothing over her legs, along with the same slippers over her feet. Her hair was a mess. Face washed clean of makeup. She looked amazing. Max grabbed the double doors to the master bedroom and swung them closed on either side of him.
“Well,” said Shannon. “I almost feel normal again. And a little sleepy, thanks to the pills. What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. Just tidying up.”
“You’re all sweaty. What’s all over your jacket?”
“Cheese.”
“Oh, of course it is.”
Max winked, hoping it looked self-assured. “Just be a minute. I want to make sure everything is cleaned up for you, okay?”
“Why don’t I just sleep on this?” She sat down on the sofa bed, which Antonio had pulled out for Max. “Comfy.”
“Well. Let’s keep your options open.”
“Okay. I’ll watch some TV.”
Max nodded. “Very good. Out in a jiffy.” His two personalities seemed to be commingling now. He shut the doors and turned and looked at the jumble of clothes on the bed. A person didn’t really nee
d this many clothes. Take Shannon for instance, who seemed to be living a rich and full life with a shirt and a pair of slippers. He shook his head to dislodge her from his brain so he could think.
Where could he hide the clothes so she wouldn’t find them?
Inspiration struck. He grabbed an armful of clothes and fell to his knees. He bent and began to shove them underneath the bed. They didn’t get very far. The bed was sitting on a wooden riser; the whole thing was boxed in.
“Dammit.”
He looked around. Shower? Top of the armoire? Behind the bathroom door? Cut them up and flush them piece by piece down the…
Ah-ha. Balcony.
He unlatched the balcony door, swung it open, and dumped the clothes on the small railed landing. He closed and latched the door, frowning at the heap of clothing until he realized he could pull the drapes.
Shannon called from the living room: “How’s it going?”
“Good, good,” he said, rushing into the bathroom.
Razors, shaving cream, toothbrush, comb, fancy soaps that Trixie liked. He could say it was all complimentary amenities. Except for the bar of soap he’d already used and that he plucked from the soap dish and wrapped it in toilet paper and shoved it into his pocket. His laptop went into its carry bag and into the safe. He took one last look around. Not exactly a five-diamond cleaning job, but good enough, considering he had no idea what he was doing. He took a deep breath. Looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked less like a butler. Mostly he just looked panicky. He used a wad of toilet paper to brush the Dorito dust from his lapels.
In the living room Shannon was lying down on the couch. She had folded the bed back in and replaced the cushions. Max wished he’d thought to do it for her.
“I’m watching Robocop 3,” she said.
“You like Robocop?”
“I like all movies. But I think Peter Weller was a much better Robocop. The guy in the third movie was kind of too stiff. The whole point is that there’s supposed to be a thinking, feeling man inside the robot. You’re looking at me funny. Why are you looking at me funny?”
“You not only like Robocop, you’ve thought about Robocop.”
“Want to watch it with me?”
“Me?”
She laughed and pointed her finger at him, thumb moving like the hammer of a pistol. “You, cowboy.”
“Well.”
“Unless you have something to do, but geez, shouldn’t you be off the clock by now? You work too much, Max. You need to relax.”
“I do?”
“Relax and watch Robocop. I’ll pass out in a few minutes anyway.”
He wasn’t sure what to do. While he was thinking about it he realized that this was a moment most people would consider an awkward silence. He’d never experienced one of them before, and it was definitely awkward.
Shannon scooted her legs closer to her body and patted the cushion beside her on the couch. “Or, if you’re still on the clock, then consider this an official guest request.”
“Oh, okay then.” He stepped over and sat down on the club chair that was placed beside the couch.
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Watching Robocop and relaxing.”
“We’re watching a movie together. That’s strictly couch.” She patted the empty cushion again.
He got up and sat down next to her. “Ah,” he said, trying to sound more comfortable than he felt. He cleared his throat. “There’s a part in this movie where Robocop is flying. You can see the wires holding him up.”
She kicked off her slippers. Her bare feet rested against his thigh. “Is that part coming up?”
Max edged a few inches away. “I think so. Soon.”
“Uhm. You’re making me feel fat.”
“What?”
“You shifted.”
“Shifted?”
“You shifted away. Do my feet stink?”
“Just wanted to give you some room to stretch out.”
“Oooh.” She swiveled around and stretched her legs out, resting her feet on his lap. “Like this?”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Okay.”
She wiggled her toes. They were connected to feet that were connected to legs that stretched away into twin naked lines of skin out of the corner of his eye. He stared at her toes so he wouldn’t look at her legs, because somewhere over there her shirt was sort of open.
“You’re staring at my toes. What’s wrong?”
He said exactly what he was thinking. “They line up perfectly.”
“My toes line up?”
Without hesitation, Max reached out and poked each toe with his index finger. He even counted to ten. “They are very lined up.”
“They do seem pretty organized, don’t they?” Shannon leaned forward and squinted. “Is that weird or normal?”
“Not normal.”
“So it’s weird.”
“No, I mean they’re better than normal. My ex-wife was a cocktail waitress. Walked around in heels for eight hours a day.”
Shannon wrinkled her nose. “Bad toes?”
“I never really thought it before, but now that I’ve seen what lined-up toes look like, yeah.”
Shannon leaned back on her cushion. “I have good toes.” She wiggled them. “Don’t tell anybody. It will be our little secret.”
“I can’t be trusted with this knowledge.”
She nudged his leg. “Stop it.”
Max spoke to her toes. “She’s holding you back. You could have it all.”
“Stop teasing them! You’ll just get their hopes up.” She wedged her feet underneath his legs to hide them.
The wiggling feet sent dangerous vibrations up the back of Max’s thighs. “Oookay. Get them back up here.”
“Are you ticklish?” Shannon wiggled her feet. “Look at you giggling!”
Max spread open his lap and pinned down her feet, wrapping his hands around them. “I give up! I won’t bother your toes anymore.”
“Hey,” she said. “Your hands are really warm.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Massage oil warm.”
“Massage oil warm? You mean greasy?”
“No, silly.” She frowned. “It was a hint.”
“Ah. You want me to book you a massage.”
She rolled her eyes. “No I want you too...” She suddenly sat upright. “Hey guess what?”
“What?”
“There’s a wet spot on your pants.”
“Is that another hint?”
“No, that’s a statement. Wet spot. Pants. Right about there,” she nudged his pocket with her toe.
Max stood up, utterly embarrassed. “Oh,” he had stuck his hand in his pocket and it came out gooey. “That’s disgusting.”
“What the heck is it?”
Max pulled out the wet wad of toilet paper. “Soap. From the bathroom.”
“Someone else’s soap? Eww.” She yawned. “Now my feet are cold without you.”
Max tossed the soap into a trash bin in the kitchenette. “Just a sec.” He went into the bedroom and retrieved the extra blanket from the armoire. He spread it over Shannon’s legs and tucked it in around her feet. “This is better than a wet butler.”
“Not as much fun, though.”
“You need to get some sleep. Want me to leave the movie on?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to sleep. Take me to bed, Max.”
“You want to sleep in the bed?”
“With you.”
“Oh.”
“I need someone to be nice with me. Gentle. Loving.”
“For an hour?”
She stood up, removed her clothing and took his hand. “I’ll be asleep way before that.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Antonio casually stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I see that your evening has been as interesting as my own.”
Max had just exited the corner suite and was standing immobile in the pile of snack food.
He took Antonio’s hand and worked his way through the small landfill. “How long have you been out here?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“It must’ve been more like thirty. Maybe thirty-five.”
“Perhaps,” said Antonio. “Let us call a houseman to bring around a trash container. I am guessing that we have a few things to discuss.”
“I should probably let you know something…”
“Shannon Moon is inside your suite. I presume she’s sleeping soundly?”
Max said, “That’s half of it. How’d you know that?”
“I saw you both enter the suite on the security cameras.” He motioned over his left shoulder and then pointed behind Max. “They are placed every twenty feet on the ceilings of the hotel corridors. There are, of course, no cameras in the rooms. So whatever may have happened may remain a secret for the cosmos.” He paused momentarily before adding, “I would suggest you attend to your trouser front, however, before we proceed.”
Max zipped his fly. “I’m going to let her sleep in there tonight. I gave her the suite.”
“That is quite a sacrifice. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, actually. She’s not like I thought she would be, you know.”
Antonio raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
“She likes Robocop.”
Antonio brushed some cheese from the sleeve of Max’s tuxedo. “That is surprising.”
“And she’s funny. But tough too. He cheated on her.”
“Please put that last phrase into a complete sentence of its own.”
“Brandon cheated on Shannon with another woman.”
“When did this happen?”
“Just tonight,” said Max, turning and pointing down the hallway. “In the Sachem Suite. I had to go in there, but Brandon heard me and came downstairs. Then Shannon came in. She was probably worried because she said he carries a gun.”
Antonio inhaled sharply and promptly choked. Max thumped him on the back.
“Want me to get you a glass of water?”
Antonio shook his head. He roughly cleared his throat a few times and attempted to gather his wits. “I believe that I will need to hear this story from start to finish, Max.”
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