Page 21 of When He Defends
In moments, he and Emerson were entering the small check-in office. The bell overhead jingled when they entered, and he couldn’t help but tense.
Fucking bells jingling make me nervous now.Because of another case. The first he’d worked with Emerson.
“You again?” The young clerk grimaced at him. “Thought you were all settled with a late checkout.” She blew a big bubble. Popped it. Sucked it back in her mouth.
A game show played from the TV on the wall. One of those twenty-four-hour game show channels.
He ignored the TV. Hehadtucked his gun into the back waistband of his pants. No sense terrifying the woman working the desk. “Our rooms are trashed.”
She grimaced. Raised her dark brows even as she twirled a lock of very blond hair. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the status for all the rooms here. Sorry. Not like it’s the Ritz. You get what you pay for, you know?”
“They aren’t trash. They aretrashed,” he emphasized. “They are?—”
“Someone broke into our rooms,” Emerson cut in to say. “Destroyed our belongings. Spray-painted our walls.”
The clerk stopped chewing her gum. Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“No, I joke about stuff like this for shits and giggles,” Gray snapped.
“Gray,” Emerson tried to soothe.
He put his hands down on the counter because he was not in the mood to be soothed. He was in the mood to kick ass.My suits are destroyed.Worse, someone had been in Emerson’s room. Someone had threatened her. With his eyes locked on the clerk, he questioned, “Did you seeanyonenear our rooms while we were gone to the police station?”
The clerk—her name tag identified her as Sherry—shook her head. “But I wasn’t exactly watching your doors, you know?”
She seemed to say “you know” a great deal.
“Supposed to stay in here,” Sherry added. “Answer the phone and stuff.”
“You have any other cameras around here that might have caught sight of an intruder?” Gray pushed.
Again, Sherry shook her head. But she asked, seemingly curious, “What was painted on your walls?”
“Oh, the usual. ‘You’ll die,’” Gray quoted. “‘Leave.’ Typical, fun greetings from a small town.”
Sherry resumed her gum chewing. Slower now. “Does this mean you don’t want that late checkout?”
He growled.
Emerson’s fingers skated up his arm. “Who is in room four?”
What? Gray’s head swung toward her. He found her staring straight at Sherry.
“When Trevor was out there screaming for Misty,” Emerson explained, as if she could hear the question he hadn’t voiced, “I saw the lights turn off in room four. They went off in room three, too.”
Gray nodded. “People trying to hide from trouble. Acting like they’re asleep or not there so they don’t have to get involved.”
Emerson’s head dipped in agreement. “Only the people in room three came out when the cops arrived. They gave statements. No one ever answered the door in room four. I noticed that the lights were still off when we passed the room moments ago.”
“Well, it is late,” Sherry mused. “Or, you know, early, depending on how you look at it.”
Behind them, someone solved the big puzzle on the game show. There was thunderous applause from the TV.
Gray ignored the applause because Emerson had just made him very, very curious. “Who is in room four?”
Sherry tapped on her computer. “I’m not just supposed to tell you guest names…but, seeing as you’re a Fed…”
A Fed without a warrant, but sure, whatever.
