Page 83 of The Last Straw

“I’m Detective Floyd, and this is my partner, Detective Mills. We need the room numbers of a couple of your guests who just came in from Detter House.”

“Yes, sir,” the clerk said. “What are their names?”

“J.J. Burch and Lou Nunez,” Floyd said.

The clerk immediately turned and typed in their names.

“Mr. Nunez is registered in room 466. But we don’t have a J.J. Burch.”

Floyd glanced at Mills and frowned. “Do you have Wayne Dyer’s phone number?”

“No,” Mills said.

“What room is Wayne Dyer in?” Floyd asked.

The clerk typed in the name.

“Mr. Dyer is in room 402.” Then he pointed to a bank of phones near the desk. “You can call the rooms from any of those phones.”

“Thanks,” Floyd said and headed for the phone bank, then called Wayne first.

Wayne was in bed, kicked back watching TV, when his room phone rang. He muted his show, then leaned over and answered.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Dyer, this is Detective Floyd.”

“Oh, yes, sir. How can I help you?” Wayne asked.

“We wanted to speak to one of the residents you moved here, but he doesn’t appear to have registered. His name is J.J. Burch. Do you happen to have a different location for him?”

“Who? I don’t know a... Oh, wait! You’re talking about Sonny. He doesn’t go by J.J. No, he’s not registered here. He called the office when he was leaving to let me know he was going to stay with family in the city. He said it would be more comfortable, and closer to his work.”

“Ah...okay. By any chance would you have Sonny’s cell phone number?” Floyd asked.

“I think I brought a list of the residents’ names and contact info with me. Just a moment, please. Let me go check.”

He laid down the phone and ran to get his briefcase, then shuffled through some papers before he found it. He slid back onto the side of the bed. “Yes, I do. Got a pen and paper?” he asked.

“Yes, go ahead,” Floyd said and took down the number.

“There’s a separate number for his office. I’ll give you that one, too,” Wayne said.

Floyd wrote it down. “Thanks, Mr. Dyer. Oh...since you have the list in front of you, do you have a contact number for Lou Nunez, too...just in case he’s not on the premises?”

“Of course,” Wayne said and gave him Nunez’s number. “He’s a stockbroker, but I don’t know if they work on Saturdays. If you don’t mind, I have a question for you. Do you have an update on Rachel Dean? We’ve all been praying for her.”

“All I know is that she came through surgery. She’s in the ICU and still unconscious.”

Wayne sighed. “Lord bless her heart. This whole thing is just so horrifying and ugly. You have to catch the man who did this to her. He’s a monster.”

“We’re doing our best,” Floyd said. “Thanks for the help.”

As soon as he disconnected, he called Lou Nunez’s room, but he didn’t answer.

“This was a bust,” Mills said as they left the hotel and walked back to their car. “And who’s Sonny?”

“J.J. goes by Sonny,” Floyd said and got in, then pulled out his notebook with the numbers Wayne had given them and called Nunez first, then put it on speaker so Mills could hear, too.

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