Page 14 of Box of Frogs
‘You paid cash.’
‘Yes, I paid upfront. Why? Is there a problem?’
‘No, no problem. We just don’t appear to have any identification for you on record. It’s important for health and safety reasons to keep an official log of all our guests. A credit card will suffice.’ He smiled, displaying even, white teeth. His green eyes flashed.
Something tugged at me, an errant thought that something wasn’t quite right. My instincts had served me fairly well so far and I wasn’t about to ignore them now. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a credit card to give the man.
‘I only just woke up,’ I said pleasantly. ‘Give me half an hour and I’ll pop down to the front desk and sort all this out.’
Timmons didn’t blink. ‘I’d prefer it if we sorted this out now.’
Okay. Something was definitely up. Yes, he was well within his rights to demand identification but planting himself at my door and refusing to leave until I did as he asked was not the way to gain yourself a five-star review on Trip Advisor.
I lifted up my chin and met his eyes. ‘I’ll be at the front desk in half an hour,’ I repeated. ‘I’m not even dressed yet and this is starting to feel like intimidation.’
Timmons didn’t back down. Instead, he leaned forward, licked his lips and smiled even more brightly. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I’ll let you off with the ID part,’ he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, ‘if you give me some.’
I stared at him. Unbelievable. I’d thought he’d looked rather sleazy but this was beyond the pale. ‘No chance. I’m not some prostitute. I’m not going to drop my robe and spread my legs for you. What do you take me for?’
Something akin to disgust flashed in his eyes. ‘Ew.’ His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t meant to say that aloud. He took a step back and bit his lip. ‘I’m joking.’ He twitched. ‘I really am. Don’t tell Rubus. I just need … some stuff. I don’t want to offend you but you did come to my hotel. I won’t tell anyone you’re here if you just give me some.’
His abrupt volte-face from stern jobsworth to a grovelling excuse for a man would have given me pause if his other words hadn’t had me unhooking the chain and flinging the door wide open so I could confront him. ‘What do you know about Rubus?’
Timmons paled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Who is he? What does he have to do with me?’
His eyes darted from side to side. ‘Is this a test?’
‘What?’ I gritted my teeth and stepped forward. Somehow I was having a bizarre conversation with an even more bizarre man that seemed to be nothing more than questions fired at each other, with no one giving any answers. ‘Stop beating around the bush,’ I snapped. ‘Answer me.’
He hissed under his breath, ‘I just want some fucking dust. I don’t want to antagonise Rubus. Give me some and I’ll leave you alone. You can stay here for as long as you want – free of charge – and I won’t ask any more questions.’
I folded my arms and tilted my head to one side, examining him from head to toe. Those hulking brutes out by the golf course had mentioned dust as well. Somehow I doubted it had anything to do with cleaning. ‘You want some dust,’ I said slowly.
Timmons threw up his hands. ‘Isn’t that what I said? Not much. Just an ounce or two will do.’
As he spoke, I realised that there was definitely something not quite right about the man. It was almost as if he weren’t entirely human. Taking a chance, I swallowed and leaned forward. ‘What are you?’
He gazed back at me stupidly for a second. ‘Huh?’
I was growing tired of all this prevarication. I put the kettle aside, grabbed him by the lapels, hauled him into my room and slammed the door shut. Then I whirled round to face him, using the base of my hand to hit his chest and knock him backwards.
‘You can’t do this,’ he stammered. ‘You can’t hurt me. The truce—’
‘What truce?’
At this, his eyes flared in fear. I sucked a deep breath of air into my lungs. The man obviously thought I was threatening him. Well, if that was what it took to finally get some answers around here, that was what I was going to do.
‘You heard me,’ I snarled. ‘The truce,’ whatever it was, ‘means nothing to me.’ I jabbed him again in the chest. ‘You came to me. Don’t forget that part.’
The look in Timmons’ eyes suggested I’d just committed the ultimate heresy. ‘You … you … can’t do this.’
I wasn’t doing anything – yet. ‘I can do whatever I want,’ I said airily, as if I knew exactly what was going on. ‘Now tell me who Rubus is and where I can find him.’
‘I only want dust!’ he whined. ‘Morganus will hear about this. Mark my words, Madrona, you’ll regret this. Even if you kill me, you’ll get what’s coming to you.’
I started. Kill him? I might have been playing the role of tough guy – or gal – but I wasn’t sure when death had entered the equation. I opened my mouth just as Timmons did the same. He wasn’t trying to chat any longer, though; his pupils became pinpricks and his eyelids narrowed into slits. His cheeks bulged and then, with bared teeth and in a manner akin to a crocodile, he snapped at me.
