Page 119 of Blue Moon

The couple in 1208 left for breakfast hand in hand, smiling at each other. A group of four moved to get out of the elevator, realised they were on the wrong floor, and stepped back inside. A family arrived, but they turned left instead of right out of the vestibule, nowhere near Luna’s room, as did everyone else who exited on the twelfth floor.

The same waitress returned at eight thirty-six, and eleven minutes later, she wheeled the cart back into the elevator.

Eleven minutes.

Hmm.

Why did it take her less than five minutes to serve breakfast and twice that to clear it away? Luna only had croissants and coffee, and the woman said they didn’t have much of a conversation.

What else happened in that room?

“Her.” I tapped the screen. “Nola Jiminez. I need to speak with her again.”

Monroe nodded. “I’ll try to find her, but her shift finished. She probably went to pick up her kid.”

“Why do you need to speak with her?” Romeo asked.

I ignored him. “Play it again.”

Nola pushed the cart out of the hallway, through the blind spot—which only took two seconds—and waited for the elevator. Made small talk with the guard. Checked her watch again. When the elevator arrived, she leaned forward and shoved the cart into the car.

Leaned forward.

Shoved.

Fuck.

How much did those carts weigh?

“Get me one of those room service carts.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Echo told him. “Do you have macarons?”

“We don’t need food, just the cart. Make sure it has a cloth over the top like that one.” I pointed at the screen. “Quick, quick. The service is shit in this place.”

Monroe hurried off, and Echo looked at me.

“Ah,” she said.

“Right.”

Five minutes later, Echo bitched as I hauled her off the chair in Monroe’s office and stuffed her onto the bottom shelf of the cart. She didn’t make things easy, and when she relaxed, her arms kept falling off the edge and trailing along the floor.

“Nola must have secured her in place. Either she came prepared with rope, or she improvised and used something from the room. She could have wedged the dog in on top.”

Monroe had turned ashen, and Romeo didn’t look much better. But I was feeling hopeful. We’d solved the first part of the puzzle. Now we were getting somewhere.

“What did she do, hit Luna over the head?” Romeo asked.

“She didn’t need to. Jiminez served the food, remember? All she had to do was sprinkle sleepy dust on the top and pick Luna up afterward.”

“That still doesn’t explain how the waitress got her out of the building.”

Monroe shook his head, incredulous. “Nola? I can’t believe she’d do this. Her whole world revolves around her son—there’s no way she’d risk going to prison. Kobie would wind up in foster care.”

“How much do you pay her?”

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