Page 24 of Let Her Hide

"Let's check the footage then," Fiona responded, determination shining in her eyes. "If Fred is telling the truth, we'll find out soon enough."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The hotel lobby was dimly lit, casting shadows on the worn wallpaper and threadbare carpet. Fiona stumbled in after Jake, knowing she likely looked as exhausted as he did, judging by the tired bags under his eyes. The scent of stale cigarette smoke hung in the air like a suffocating blanket, but they'd been in worse hotels than this one.

They’d tracked Fred’s movements via security footage gathered in the city and confirmed that the main crime he was guilty of was stalking and conspiracy to murder. He was going to jail, that much was certain, but he wasn’t the killer they were looking for. And so, Fiona and Jake were back to square one.

"Can we have a room for the night, please?" Fiona asked the receptionist, her voice barely audible. She tried to ignore the gnawing hunger in her stomach as she faced the woman.

"Of course," the receptionist replied, her fingers clicking against the keyboard with practiced ease. "We only have one room left--a double bed. Is that okay?"

Fiona's heart sank, and she glanced at Jake. Once again, they would be forced to stay in another closed space together. Only this time, it was more awkward than before because things had changed between them. Become more comfortable, only to become more distant.

Jake offered Fiona a shrug. “I can take the couch.”

Fiona bit her lip but nodded to the receptionist. "Yes, that works. Thank you."

"Here's your key. Room 217, second floor."

"Thanks," Fiona muttered, taking the key and heading for the elevator with Jake trailing behind. The silence between them felt heavy, but neither had the energy to break it.

As they walked to their room, Fiona couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. She knew Jake was feeling it too, and she could tell that there were things he wanted to say but wasn't. There was a time when they could talk about anything, but that seemed like a distant memory now.

Once inside their room, Fiona sat down on the edge of the bed, her body tense and uncomfortable. The hotel room was charming in its own right--it had a rustic, homey atmosphere with soft furniture in inviting colors. The bed was covered in smooth, patterned quilts and surrounded by warm, wooden furniture. The walls were adorned with tasteful artwork, and a window offered a beautiful view of the cityscape beyond.

Despite the fatigue that weighed down her limbs, her mind refused to quiet. Aside from being here with Jake, her thoughts circled back to her sister and the private investigator she'd hired, Roger. She absently twisted the hem of her shirt between her fingers, her foot tapping out an anxious rhythm on the floor. Roger still hadn't contacted her with that possible lead, like he said he would.

Jake leaned against the wall by the door, his arms crossed over his chest, watching Fiona with concern etched into his face.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked gently, trying to pierce through Fiona's preoccupied demeanor.

"Yeah," she lied, her gaze remaining fixed on the dull beige carpet. "Just tired."

"Me too," he agreed, pushing himself off the wall and moving closer to Fiona. "We'll figure this out. I promise." His words were meant to reassure, but they seemed to hang hollow in the air between them.

Fiona nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

"I'll go grab us a late dinner," Jake said. "Be right back."

Jake quietly left the room, leaving Fiona with her thoughts. A heaviness settled in the air of the dimly lit hotel room as Fiona's fingers tapped rapidly against her phone screen, crafting a desperate message to Roger. Her heart pounded with anticipation, each beat echoing the urgency of her situation.

"Roger, any updates on my sister?" she typed, her hands trembling ever so slightly. "Please respond ASAP."

She held her breath and waited, but Roger's repone never came. Fiona lay back in the bed and closed her eyes. Her stomach gnawed with both hunger and anxiety. Anxiety about Jake, about Joslyn's case--and about the case. They had chased down so many promising leads today, and yet none of them had gone anywhere. Fiona didn't want to think about what would happen if another person died while she hadn't been able to stop it.

The sound of the door unlocking jolted her from her thoughts. Hastily, she slid her phone into her pocket just as Jake entered the room, a bag of fast food in hand. The scent of grease and salt wafted in the air, mingling with the stifled atmosphere as he approached the small table in the corner.

"Got us some takeout," Jake announced, his voice weary but trying to maintain an air of normalcy. He set the bag down and began unpacking its contents – burgers, fries, and sodas – onto the table.

"Thanks," Fiona murmured, forcing a smile as she joined him. Their eyes met for a brief moment before they both looked away, discomfort thick between them like a tangible barrier.

They sat down, their knees brushing against each other under the table. The soft rustle of paper and plastic filled the silence as they unwrapped their food, each lost in their own thoughts. Fiona could feel Jake's presence beside her, his exhaustion mirroring her own, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else – something unspoken – weighing heavily on both of them.

As they began to eat, Fiona's mind raced with anxious thoughts. Fiona's gaze drifted up from her half-eaten burger, resting on Jake's furrowed brow as he stared at the wilted lettuce on his plate. A sudden flutter in her stomach caught her off guard, but she quickly dismissed it, reminding herself that now was not the time for distractions.

"Is everything all right?" she asked hesitantly, watching as Jake's eyes flickered to meet hers before darting away again.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled, his fingers twisting the paper wrapping of his sandwich. "There's just… something I need to tell you."

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