Page 109 of Missing White Woman

I stayed a respectful six feet away, barely listening as they discussed important room-related business. When it was apparent the woman and attendant weren’t going to be finished anytime soon, another employee popped up from the back room and waved me toward her. I managed to muster a smile. “Hi. I need a room key. And I don’t have my ID.”

“Sure, Ms. Wright. What’s your room again?”

For once, I was happy to be known. “Suite 1042,” I said.

She nodded, then began pressing keys.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the blonde staring me down. Normally, I’d ignore her. But instead, I looked her dead in the eye. Then I smiled. “Hello.”

She lit up. “We’re neighbors!”

I nodded, expecting her to ask about my earlier police-escorted exit. I was sure the entire metaverse was talking about what had happened. It would explain Adore’s well-timed confession.

Instead, the woman said, “I just checked in about an hour ago.”

So she’d missed it. For the best. “I’ll try to be quiet,” I said as the attendant handed over a key.

“No prob,” the blonde said. “You’re both so nice, I wouldn’t mind.”

My head began nodding before my brain processed exactly what she’d said. “Both?”

“I met your friend earlier when we were both going into our rooms. I would love to get my hair that color.”

I asked a question even though I already knew the answer. “Pink highlights?”

“Yes! Do you know how she did it?”

But I didn’t answer. I was already at the elevator, jamming the button like I was Bob Marley. Billie had somehow gotten into my room after I left. Billie who had called the police. Billie who knew Janelle was alive. Billie who probably knew about the damn crypto drive.

And if she knew about the drive, she had to be in on it with Janelle. She’d always said Janelle was one of her first followers. Always commented on her posts. It would make sense that they could’ve developed a relationship. DMed each other. Had it been Janelle’s idea and she roped Billie in later? Or could they both have planned the whole thing out together?

What had Billie called it? “Herd mentality”?

“Everything okay?” The joy had left my neighbor’s voice. She sounded concerned.

“Yeah, I just forgot I left the stove on.”

The elevator doors opened before she could respond. I jumped in, jammed the button for Ten until the doors closed. The descent was slow, but just as scary as the beginning of a carnival ride.

I hadn’t done anything to hide the crypto drive. I should’ve at least put it in the room’s safe. That’s what they were for. Instead, I couldn’t even remember where I’d left the bag of Muddy Buddies. Housekeeping probably would’ve thrown it out if Billie hadn’t broken in first.

It had been a mistake, but that’s how it always was with me. Not doing what I was supposed to, then asking God for help later on. I said a quick prayer now, repeating it a few times until we got to my floor. I tried to wrench the doors open. It didn’t help, but it made me feel better. Gave me a place to discharge the energy that had built up over just a few short minutes. I sprinted down the hall, banging into my door and somehow managing to get it open.

Billie was long gone. Not a surprise, but still. The place looked… normal. I’d been expecting something more. Like you see in movies. Overturned cushions and cutlery hastily thrown out of drawers. But the only thing I saw was the mess I’d left myself.

For a moment I thought maybe the woman upstairs had been mistaken. That she’d misheard my room number. Got confused about what floor she was staying on. Maybe had some encounter with some other blonde who’d dyed her hair in honor of Janelle’s vigil. But then I saw it.

My key card was gone.

Billie must’ve taken it when I wasn’t paying attention, maybe that last time she hugged me like she gave a crap about my life—like she wasn’t still actively destroying it.

I couldn’t remember where I’d left the crypto wallet. It didn’t jump out when I searched the room, so I started looking everywhere. It wasn’t on the couch. Not stuck between cushions or kicked underneath it.

Next up were the tables, both coffee and end. The coffee table in particular had a lot of shit on it. None of it the drive.

For once I wanted to curse myself for being so messy.

I moved to the bedroom, a bit less than a disaster scene thanks to my quick cleaning attempt when Billie was over earlier. But it wasn’t on the dresser. Or either end table. And it wasn’t in any of the drawers the first or second time I checked each one.

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