Page 4 of Tinley's Daddy
“Hi.” I nodded. The other man grunted and proceeded past me further down the hall.
“You could check with the hotel security.” I pointed toward my door. “I can call them if you?—”
“No, no.” He held up his hand. “She does this. It’s like a game. She will show up.”
I shrugged.
He looked me up and down and then proceeded back toward the elevator. I pushed the door open and stepped inside the pitch dark room. I flipped the switch by the door and the lights over the bed and living area illuminated the suite.
A soft whimper drew my attention. With a couch and coffee table by the door, the king-sized bed made up most of the rest of the room. It had a non-Parisian feel to it. It reminded me more of our hotel interior in Las Vegas Quad 2. All slick lines, with Asian influences.
“Hello,” I whispered. “You can come out now. You’re safe.”
I didn’t recognize my own voice. I listened for another sound. My hand remained on the door. I padded across the floor to the center and spotted her. She had slid down into the space between the end of the couch and the wall, hugging her knees. Her big brown eyes shined bright in the dim light.
She glared in my direction but didn’t quite look at me.
I held my hand out in front of me and approached.
She scooted back farther into the wall.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I kneeled a few feet away. “I won’t hurt you. Can you tell me your name?”
She licked her lips. Dried blood caked the left side of her mouth. A small trail of blood had dripped down the side of herhead from her hairline. It was a tiny cut, but head wounds like that bled.
“Are you hurt?” I touched my head.
She reached up, winced, and drew her hand back. She shivered.
I stood up suddenly. She grunted, flinched, and hugged herself harder. She turned her head away from me.
I squatted back down.
“Oh, sweetie, I promise I won’t hurt you.” I pulled the blanket off the couch and unfolded it. “Please,” I pleaded.
It got her to turn back to me. I reached out my hands with the blanket draped between them. She blinked and lowered her head. I dropped the blanket over her shoulders. She gripped the sides and wrapped it further around herself.
I stood up, slower this time, and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge. I unscrewed the top and set it down in front of her. I gave her some space and grabbed my phone out of my back pocket.
I tapped the screen to call Randall.
“Hey, buddy.” He sounded almost chipper.
“Rand, I need you to pull up the cameras in the lounge in Paris from about” —I looked at my watch— “five minutes ago.”
“Why?” He went from chipper to annoyed. “I’m in a middle of?—”
“Randall,” I yelled.
Another whimper came from the corner. She’d held the bottle of water between her two hands and brought it to her lips. I counted that as a victory.
I smiled, and she narrowed her eyes and turned away.
“This is time sensitive.” I lowered my voice. “Two guys were then joined by a third. Track their movements. If they are staying in the hotel, I want a full rundown. ASAP.”
“Got ’em,” he said as I finished my sentence. “In the elevator, is that you? Fuck, why are you following them? What did they do?”
“Keep watching.” I rubbed my chin. I needed a shave. The plastic bottle squeaked. She’d finished the bottle and hugged it to her. I squatted in front of her and held my hand out. She set the bottle on the floor, but in front of me. Again, progress.
