Greta followed her hand to her extended stomach. “Boy or gal?”
“Boy, we’re calling him Victor.”
“Victor! Very strong name,” she complimented, nodding her approval, then looked down at the shopping bags she now held for Cora.
“I apologize, but I am completely lost. I forgot my key in the room and I can’t remember what room it is.” Cora provided an explanation as to why she wasn’t leading the woman back to her room.
“Oh, then let me look you up,” the woman said patiently, and started to turn towards the front desk.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what name the reservation is under. My husband’s company sent us here for his work and it’s under his boss’s name.”
Greta nodded as if this was perfectly normal to her. “Okay, okay. We get you figured out.”
The woman, with a hobble of her own, ushered Cora towards the front desk. Setting the shopping bags in front of it, she circled the large marble counter and sat down with a long sigh of relief. “Now, I am needing the name under the reservation.”
“I’m so sorry,” Cora repeated, her brow furrowing to show her absolute mortification. “I don’t have it. Oh! But I do have a picture!”
She dug into her purse hooked in her arm as if this idea had just dawned on her. She had zoomed in on his profile through the footage she had captured, trying to correct the pixilation had been a chore, but it looked clear enough to hold out to the front desk attendant. “This is his boss; do you know him?”
Realization flashed in the woman’s expression and a sly smile spread across her features before evaporating just as quickly. “No, I sorry but I never seen this man.”
Cora quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
Greta leaned forward as if to study the picture, and Cora almost jumped when a young boy maybe five or six ducked out from beneath the counter and looked at the picture too, gasping. “Mormor!” he exclaimed excitedly, tugging at the woman’s sleeve. “Mormor!” He extended his arm forward, curling his small hand into a fist and pulling his other arm back by his ear as if he were shooting a bow. He then uncurled the fist by his ear and made an explosion noise with his mouth.
Greta, ignoring this, looked up at Cora and smiled. “Never seen him before.”
Cora withdrew her phone, slowly and suspiciously. Greta definitely knew who he was, and it was sketchy that she was lying. And Cora knew sketchy, after all she was trying to hand Greta a surveillance photo.
After a few moments of staring at Greta, Cora finally plastered on her most confused smile and asked, “What am I to do then? I don’t know the name or the room number.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Greta said pleasantly, politely dismissing her.
But Cora’s eyes shifted to the still excited child. “Do you know this man?” Cora asked gently.
“He knows nothing,” Greta interjected.
“I’m asking him,” Cora said sweetly.
“Yeah!” he said excitedly. “He wears that hat and shoots balloons!”
“Oh, does he?” Cora chuckled, unsure as to what that meant, but excited that he recognized the man from such a vague picture. “Do you know where he’s staying?”
“Upstairs!”
“Can you show me?”
Greta’s polite customer service smile was gone as she glowered at Cora. “Come back tomorrow and we will show you.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, tomorrow.”
Cora’s mind spun. Evidence tampering? That was the only reason she could deduce that they would want her to return the next day. “That’s impossible, where am I to stay for tonight?”
“Tomorrow,” Greta grumbled more insistently, and Cora watched her hand gravitate towards the phone likely to call security.
With a strong harrumph, Cora grabbed up her bags and began to hobble towards the entrance with a dramatic groan and several mumbled “I can’t believe this,” comments. Once outside, she circled around the building in her same hobble until she was down the street and in a back alley where she could safely drop the ruse, and the heavy shopping bags.
“Plan B,” she said to herself, letting down her hair so it flowed long around her shoulders. She removed her fake glasses and fake belly, depositing both into the trash, and headed back to the hotel to find the employee entrance.
While she waited for a maid to come out of the side door so she could see their uniform and security measures, Cora just stood with a cigarette between her fingers, watching it burn. She didn’t smoke, but an employee on a smoke break was a good enough reason to be standing behind the building.
It had taken some time for her to find the employee entrance as it was tucked discretely on the back end of the building, which was so tightly flanked by other buildings it was difficult for her to circle the extravagant architecture to discover where employees came and went.
She might have missed it if a server for a restaurant inside hadn’t come out for a smoke break. Cora had made quick contact and bummed one off of her to look as if she belonged. She waited and watched until the flame on her borrowed cigarette has reached the stage where she needed to either chuck it or allow her fingers to burn with it, when a young woman approached the door with a copper-brown dress slung over one of her arms. Traditional maid attire.
Cora dropped the spent cigarette and approached as the woman punched in a code, not paying enough attention to cover her moving fingers, so Cora was able to make out the numbers used. 2-2-3-8, which were also the most faded numbers on the electronic lock.
Cora allowed the door to close behind the woman, counted to twenty, then punched in the same code and voila! She had gained entry to the bowels of the fancy hotel. Unlike the front entrance hall, this entrance was quite plain with wear in the carpet from the large amounts of foot traffic coming to and from throughout the day. It took only a few moments of carefully exploring to find the breakroom where lockers lined one wall, none with locks in place.
Cora almost shook her head at that. The Danish were trusting people, making her job of finding a suitable disguise that much easier. The first locker she peeked into was empty other than a pack of gum and cigarettes, but she scored on the second. A maid outfit only a few sizes too big for Cora’s frame.
“Score,” she said to herself, then swiped it and went to change in the employee bathroom.
As she was pulling the musty smelling uniform over her head, she heard the door to the breakroom open and instinctively she slowed. In Danish, a stern voice was barking some command, then the door shut again, but there came small sounds of rustling, telling her that someone else was still inside the breakroom.
Cora finished dressing and hesitantly peeked out of the bathroom, then smiled as her eyes met the same little boy from the lobby.
“Hello there. Do you remember me?”
He looked up, his expression somber, then curious as he saw her. “The lady from the lobby!”
“That’s me,” Cora said cheerfully, holding her phone out to him with the picture pulled up again. “And do you know this man?”
The boy nodded hesitantly, glancing at the door as if he expected Greta to come through at any moment.
“It’s all right. He and I are just playing a little game, like hide and seek,” at his puzzled expression, she wondered if they had hide and seek in Denmark. She continued on quickly. “So, could you help me find him?”
He gave one big, enthusiastic nod before glancing over his shoulder to the door again. “But we can’t tell Mormor, she’s cranky!”
“Deal,” Cora whispered, putting a finger in front of her lips.
The boy giggled and led Cora through the employee area and into the main hallway.
“Do you have a secret route?” Cora asked quietly.
“No, just the stairs.”
That’ll work, Cora thought, knowing almost everyone would take the elevators, and for good reason. Though the boy ran up the stairs flight after flight as if he had calves
of steel, Cora struggled after the first four flights. “How much further?”
“Not far.”
Three more flights. “How many floors are there in this hotel?” Cora asked, gasping.
“Five.”
“Five?”
“Ya, and he’s at the tippy top!”
“How is this only five floors?” Cora groaned, feeling pathetic now. Regaining her second wind, she sprinted to catch up with the boy and three flights later they were at floor number five. Trying to stifle her rapid breathing, she waved the boy forward. “Lead the way.”
“Oh no,” he said, standing up taller and reaching forward to open the door for her. “Ladies first.”
“My, my, what a gentleman,” Cora said, curtsying before sweeping past him in her too big maid’s uniform to scan the floor for her suspect. The hallway was empty.
Cora’s little helper ducked around her and sprinted down the hall, pointing. “There! There!” he said until Cora shushed him, then he slowed and covered his mouth apologetically.
Room 523. That’s where she would find this potential cigarette salesman. “Go back to the breakroom,” she ordered him at a whisper. “Our little game of hide and seek is over now. Thanks for your help.”
The boy smiled and nodded his acceptance of her appreciation of him before trotting off. Cora watched him go, her body buzzing, ready to knock and pretend to be housekeeping but making sure the kid was well away before she took the knocker between her fingers and lightly clicked it down against the plate. “Housekeeping,” she announced.
Her mouth felt dry as she waited. It typically did when she was in need of the taste of her stabilizing sugar, which calmed her nerves better than anything else.
When there was no answer, she took the knocker and rapped harder. “Housekeeping!”
The door gave way under the pressure and clicked open. Cora blinked, surprised. The door was open? Every nerve in her body tingled, every synapse firing a warning. He knows you’re here, they were saying. Go back. Go back.
But everything else within her desperately needed to prove to herself that she could still kick ass and take names, as she had before falling victim to Krone’s knife. So, she opened the door slowly and peeked inside.
Red. There were red flower petals drizzled all along the doorway. The light in the room was dimmed, at least that’s what she had thought at first but when she looked up she saw balloons, white, and red, and pink taking up the entire ceiling. The light shining through them turned the walls multiple colors as if they had been splattered with pink paint.
Puzzled, Cora wondered if the little boy had given her the wrong room, but nothing else about this investigation had made any sense to her so far, so she continued on. The bathroom she passed was filled with candles, the tub full of water and more rose petals. Upon the sitting area coffee table sat a huge basket filled with candy, mostly lollipops, and was that bubblegum?
“Took you long enough,” grumbled a voice behind her.
Cora gasped, her heart jumping into her throat as she spun around, but he was already on top of her. She struck out with one fist aimed for his diaphragm to paralyze him, but he deflected it, attempting to kick her legs out from under her. She kept her balance and managed to shoulder his chest and heard the air knocked from his lungs, but still he wrestled her.
He was too close for her to have a good look at him, but his movements were familiar. He anticipated her every move, when she stepped to take a swing, he stepped to deflect it. He moved fast, impossibly fast, battling her backwards even as he deflected her attacks. Like a violent dance, they twirled together around the coffee table filled with sweets and back towards the bed. She slipped on rose petals as she fought his herding movements. Blocking a kick with her leg, he had her. With a quick sweep of his heel, he had her other leg knocked from under her and she sprawled against the bed. Instantly he covered her, grabbing her wrists and locking them over her head. Body pressed against warm body, and her skin heated as it only did when covered by one specific man.
“Asher?” she realized, recognizing the body that covered her instantly.
He wore a ski mask over his face, making his blue eyes even more piercing. “Like I said, took you long enough.”
“What are you... How did you...” she trailed off, realization hitting her. “You’re the cigarette salesman?”
“Correction, I am the candy man.”
“Candy man?”
He pulled himself back and released her wrists, allowing her to flop back against the mattress. “Stay,” he ordered, the ski mask making it all the more menacing. He crossed back to the coffee table and grabbed a package of candy from the basket. He waved it in his palm. “King’s Candy.”
“Candy cigarettes,” she said, looking at the pack so closely resembling cigarettes, if not for the big CANDY written along the front of the box. He had been careful to conceal that from her in the footage because she had looked to see if she could make out the brand. Clever man.
Disobeying his command, she sat up. “What exactly possessed you to do this?”
Shrugging, he said, “I missed our little games, too, Cora.”
She smiled, the first full smile he had seen from her in months and his heart skipped. Her whole face brightened, looking just as bubbly and happy as she had when he had first met her and fallen in love with her. Her skin had paled a lot since moving away from the Miami sun, but it flushed with color when she smiled at him. She looked alive.
“You missed playing hide and seek,” she observed.
“I missed our cat and mouse games.”
“Was I the cat in this scenario or the mouse?”
“I’ll let you decide.”
She felt like the cat, but she was probably the mouse. Or the sheep being herded by the experienced sheep dog. Either way, the chase had been fun. “So, let me guess. You tricked Gloria into alerting the whole salon that there was some creep selling cigarettes to minors and knew I couldn’t resist?”
“Close. I paid her to do it.”
“She knew it was a hoax? No wonder then.”
“What?”
“She came and asked me questions about what I knew, I thought she was just a nosy, bored housewife. I guess she was just looking for praise on her acting. A little over the top if you ask me.”
“Worked though.”
Cora glared at him.
“Then I watched you decide to come after me. Watched you install the cameras. Made sure you caught me on camera, and made sure to leave just enough clues to lead you here.” He looked up at the balloon covered ceiling; she did too, amazed by the spectacular beauty of it. “Your Valentine’s Day Utopia. I even got the front desk attendant in on it so she would play along with whatever scheme you came up with to find me.”
“She did not play along.”
“Because you were a day early,” he pointed out.
“Where did you get the ball cap?” she asked. “The one with the hotel name on it? This doesn’t seem like the type of place to advertise that way.”
“Cost me a little to have a logo printed on a hat. Took some doing, but I managed it. I didn’t think you would put the pieces together so fast, I guess that was too much of a hint.”
“Or I’m just better than you thought.”
One half of his mouth upturned in the slightest shadow of a smile. “Not the first time I have underestimated you.”
“Nor the last,” she teased. He reached up to remove his mask from around his face, but Cora shook her head. “Leave it on.”
Quirking one eyebrow beneath the fabric, he pulled it back into place. “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”
“When do I ever listen?”
His face stiffened, all humor evaporating to leave a stern, stoic expression. The same dead expression he had once worn when he had pulled the trigger and eliminated targets under orders. The same expression he used when he was after someone and he was about to catch them.
He launched at her, and though
she struggled, he had her back against the mattress again, hands above her head in his classic pin. She kicked her leg, digging her shoe into his thigh but he shoved her off and pressed his knee to her sensitive inner thigh.
“I told you to lie still,” he growled into her ear, causing shivers to rush up her back like pleasant goosebumps. She remembered that rush, the feeling of danger crackling beneath every stroke of his fingers. She had missed that feeling.
He looked down at her intensely, watching and waiting for her to obey or resist him. She chose to resist, struggling against his tight binding of her wrists in vain. She knew it was in vain, he was much stronger than her, especially now that she wasn’t as in the shape she had been when they had first met.
She also wasn’t trying all that hard to fight him off.
Transferring one of her wrists into his opposite hand so his fingers were clamped around both of her wrists tightly, his now free hand explored her. With the gentlest of touches, he glided his fingertips down the crook of her arm, across the sensitive lobe of her ear, then traced the throbbing cord of her neck to her heaving chest.
Her breasts were confined behind layers of clothing, and she smirked at him, reveling in the challenge she had given him. She struggled, making it extra hard on him until he planted his free hand around her throat and leaned down, using his teeth to unzip her uniform part of the way, just enough that he could fit his hand beneath the fabric and stroke naked skin.
She gasped, buckling against him as his fingers traced from her neck down beneath her jacket and found her nipple, rotating his thumb over the sensitive flesh.
His ocean blue eyes flickered up to meet her hazel irises, holding her gaze intensely and making another shudder vibrate down her already liquefied spine. “Please,” she whimpered.
“Begging will get you nowhere.” But he did remove his hand to unzip her jacket the rest of the way and leave her bare beneath him. Her nipples instantly hardened against the chill even in the well-insulated hotel room. His mouth found one of those peaks, rotating his tongue as he had just rotated his thumb, sucking gently, his breath warmed her and made her core flex in anticipation.
Heart Song Anthology Page 9