Page 40 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

Maybe it’s the “please” that does it, but Connor softens. “I wanted to… About earlier. I do need your help, Eleanor. This afternoon proved it.”

“That was a mugging.”

“I don’t think so.”

“So, let me get this straight. Someone’s trying to kill you, and instead of doing that, they pushed you to the ground and stole Harper’s purse?”

He makes a low growl in his throat. “You’re not asking the right question.”

“What’s the right question?”

“What did they want that was in Harper’s purse?”

Ugh. I hate it when he’s right.

“Okay, say that’s what was behind the mugging. There wasn’t anything about Connor in your purse, was there, Harper?”

“Ahem, well…” Harper says. “I realized earlier…”

“What?”

“I have a master key. To our rooms. Mine, yours, Connor’s.”

“How did you get that?”

“I always have one.”

“So, the thief can get into my room?” Connor says. “Fantastic.”

“But wait,” I say. “Those cards are blank, right?”

I fish in my purse and pull out my room card. I’d noticed it earlier. It doesn’t have the hotel’s name on it. It’s just a shiny black card with a silver logo.

“See, there are no identifying marks other than the logo. Which, frankly, looks like the logo of a million hotels. They won’t know where you’re staying.”

“I also had a full paper itinerary with all our hotel details.”

That stupid itinerary again. The bane of my existence.

“So, they know what hotel we’re staying at and have a key to all our rooms, Connor’s included?”

“Looks like it.”

I work a spot on my lip. “But wait, that still wouldn’t mean they know which room Connor’s in. Were our room allocations on the document?”

“No, I only got that once we arrived.”

“Okay, good. And the hotel’s pretty big, six floors at least. They can’t try all the doors. That would draw too much attention.”

“They wouldn’t have to, though,” Connor says. “They know what floor I’m staying on.”

“How?”

“Because the person trying to kill me is on this tour.”

CHAPTER 8No One at This Table Is Innocent

“What does that mean?” I ask as a frisson of anxiety works its way up my spine.

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