Deadly Reservation

by CeeCee James

  I sat on the edge of the bed, tentatively, as if I were afraid I would somehow hurt him. “I know your brother, Scott.” He’s probably wondering why Scott isn’t here!

  “Scott is busy right now,” I swallowed at the lie. “So, I came in his place. The doctors have said that you understand what’s going on around you. It’s just that you can’t respond. I want you to know you’re going to be okay.” Dear God, please let that be true. I watched him again and settled a bit more comfortably on the bed. Suddenly, I remembered my phone—didn’t I have the Kindle app? I fished it out of my purse and clicked it on. Sure enough, there it was. I tapped it open and scrolled through the books. “You want to hear something? I could read to you.” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the titles. No. Not this one. No. No. Where is a good guy book when I need one? Finally, I found one, not the greatest choice, but I thought it would work.

  “Okay, William. This story is called, Little Women. Honestly, it’s the best I have, so you’re just going to have to bear with me, here.” I clicked it open and adjusted the tiny print. Clearing my throat, I began, “‘Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,’ grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.”

  I had no idea how much time passed, but a nurse came in, making me look up and blink. The room was darker now. It must be past dinner time.

  “Well, hello, there,” The nurse said to me with a friendly smile. She came over to check William’s machines. “You family?”

  “Friend of the family,” I explained. “I’m Maisie. How is he?”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Kara. He’s actually doing better.” She smiled down at him and smoothed back his hair. “He’s been moving a little, more and more. Soon he’ll be up and dancing.” She touched his nose. “Won’t you, handsome?”

  Her word usage made me take a second look at her. She was young herself, maybe early twenties, and quite cute. The way she talked about him made me feel better, confident that he was in good hands.

  She tucked the sheet around him and patted his shoulder. “Well, Mr. Clarke, I’ll be back with my cart in just a minute to take your vitals.”

  I stood up. “I’m going to head out.”

  “Okay. Don’t be a stranger.” She grinned again, showing perfect, white teeth and walked behind the curtain. When I heard the door click shut, I leaned down.

  “Oh, William. She’s beautiful. You better wake up and take that girl dancing.” I lightly squeezed his arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, young man. Know that people care about you and keep your hopes up.”

  I tucked my phone away and ran my fingers through my hair, wincing at all the knots. I couldn’t wait to get home and take a long bath. But I had one more thing to do first.

  Chapter 19

  I left William’s room and blinked in the brilliant white of the hallway. Why on earth do they make hospitals white? Carts stood against the wall filled with food trays, and my stomach growled. I remembered Ruby saying the hospital made a mean tuna fish casserole. I was so hungry, I’d even be willing to give that a try. But first things first. I headed for the elevators. The emergency room staff might not let me in, but I wanted to try and see Scott. I needed to know how he was doing. Kristi had said he was alert, so that made me happy.

  The elevator was largely filled with a laundry services cart full of fresh sheets and hotel gowns. I studied the blue-striped clothing. There was something about a hospital gown that was a great equalizer. Rich or poor, powerful or weak, a hospital gown made you the same as everyone else—scared, wanting to get home, and concerned that your backside was hanging out.

  I pushed the button for the emergency room floor. The laundry service guy smiled at me, but otherwise, we stared at opposite focal points and waited silently.

  His floor was first, and he got off, replaced by a young family with a little girl who seemed about three. She held a stuffed animal and danced about the elevator cage, shrieking, “My tummy tickles!”

  We all got off on the same floor but headed in different directions; the family for the parking garage, and me for the ER.

  The ER was filled with harried looking parents, crying kids, and adults looking morose or in pain. I walked to the front desk.

  The receptionist glanced up. “Can I help you?”

  “Hi,” I leaned against the counter before I remembered all the sick people who’d been there before me. I spotted hand sanitizer and took a squirt. “I’m looking for Scott Clarke. He came in here earlier?”

  She typed on her screen briefly. “He’s in the first bay on the left.” She pointed to the double doors. I walked over and the door buzzed as she let me through.

  First bay on the left, huh? There was something intimidating about walking into a hospital room the first time. I always worried I’d barge into the wrong room.

  I tapped on the door and then peeked in. There he was, propped up on pillows with various lines crawling out of the hospital gown. He opened his eyes at the sound of the door.

  “Hi,” he smiled weakly.

  I could have jumped on that bed and hugged him, I was so relieved. “Hi, yourself,” I said, walking in. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m about as weak as a bowl of jello, and my mouth feels like it was used as training papers for a baby dragon, but otherwise, I’m okay,” he grinned again.

  “Glad to hear it.” I went over and sat on the bed. “I just was visiting your brother.”

  “Yeah?” His eyebrows rumpled.

  “He’s doing better.” I patted his leg. “He’s responding to the antidote.”

  “Something good came out of all this, I suppose.”

  “It’s true. You grabbing that paper is the best thing that happened for them.”

  “That’s me, the knight in shining armor.”

  “Speaking of knights in shining armor, your neighbor’s pretty awesome.”

  His mouth dropped slightly. “What? Mrs. Carmichael?”

  “And Peanut. We became friends.”

  A slight noise came out of him, that in ordinary times would have been a loud guffaw. “Peanut?”

  “That dog is adorable,” I said. “And Mrs. Carmichael really helped you out.”

  “Who would have thought?”

  “I know right? She might even make you chicken soup when you get back home.”

  He smiled, his fingers picking at the edge of the sheet. “Home. Wow.” He sighed. “I’ve just been lying here, thinking about things.”

  “That doesn’t sound too good,” I teased. When he didn’t smile back, I asked, “What are you thinking about?”

  “William.” His gaze caught mine, noticeably sunken from his experience. “He must have come over the day the package was delivered. It was him that she saw.”

  “She said he was on drugs. You think he was high?”

  He started to shake his head, wincing suddenly as though it hurt. After a second, he continued. “I think he got scared when she started talking to him. He realized he’d been seen. Probably just stole the necklace from my gun safe and had it in his pocket.”

  “What about the package?”

  “I think he saw it was from Miami and got suspicious. Must have opened it to see what was inside and then chucked it.” Scott swallowed. “I don’t know how he got back to the hotel. Guy has more guts and stamina than me.”

  “Maybe he didn’t touch it as much. You turned it over a few times in your hand. Was it sticky?”

  “No. It didn’t feel like anything but waxed paper.” He looked at me again. “The doctors said I was lucky. If the ambulance hadn’t come when it had, I would have gone into a coma, too.”

  “Wow,” I said. There were no words to follow a statement like that.

  We chatted a few minutes longer, but I noticed his eyelids looked heavy. I patted his leg and stood up. “I’ll check on you later, okay? You get some sleep.”

  “I will,” he smiled as I turned to go. “And, Maisie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

&nb
sp; I arched an eyebrow. “What have I told you? Don’t thank me yet.”

  I left Scott’s room and stopped at the nurses’ station.

  “Hi, Marta,” I said, reading her name tag. “Where’s the cafeteria at? Is it still open?”

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It is. We’re lucky to have one that stays open until nine. It’s only seven, so you’ve got time.” She gave me directions, which included a lot of “left, right, left at the fish aquarium” and I set off, feeling this excursion might be harder than finding the “X” on a pirate’s treasure map.

  My nose helped me the last little bit, picking up the scent of roasted chicken, and pizza. Not to be outdone in the senses department, my mouth kicked in, making me swallow.

  Food. Finally!

  The cafeteria was nearly empty at this time of night, but there were still a few people milling about, selecting their food from the giant buffet. I picked up a tray and got into the line.

  Mmm. My eyes lit up at the sight of sausage gravy and biscuits. Fried chicken, green beans, fresh salad. Looking further down the line, I saw ham, scalloped potatoes. Even eggs. And was that bacon?

  I silently blessed the chefs who set up this menu and snagged a biscuit. After splitting it in half on my plate, I reached for the ladle in the gravy.

  “What are you doing here?” a voice growled behind me.

  Startled, I dropped the ladle in the gravy and turned to look.

  Mr. Fairchild stood glaring at me. In his hands was a plate mounded with food.

  “Hello, Mr. Fairchild. I heard Natalie is doing better.”

  “And I heard you were with that scumbag.”

  “Wow, Mom. You should lay off the protein drinks.” I don’t know why I sent such a smart aleck remark back, but there it was. His eyes narrowed, reminding me you don’t poke crazy.

  “You think you’re funny? I told you not to come around here if you’re hanging out with him.”

  “Hanging out with him happened to be the catalyst to finding the treatment to save your niece.”

  “Natalie didn’t need saving. Some people need to learn their lesson the hard way.” He glared at me. “And not by a scumbag like him. Did you tell him I saw him that night?”

  “You mean the safe? I heard.”

  “I’ve got his number, and by the time I’m done with him, he’s not going to need a lawyer.”

  “Mr. Fairchild, that sounds an awful lot like a threat.”

  He actually laughed then, deep and scary. “You think you can touch me? I’m a Fairchild. I run in circles you haven’t even dreamed about.”

  “If you’re in them, sounds like they’re a nightmare.” I blame losing my cool on exhaustion, stress and no food. Still, it was momentarily satisfying to see his face flush and nostrils flare in offense.

  Until he dumped the plate of food on my head. To be honest, I didn’t even see it coming, as I was trying to catch a drip of gravy from falling off my own plate. But I felt it. Warm and squishy, with the plate making hard enough contact with my skull to ring my bell.

  I stumbled back against the buffet table to try and catch my balance.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa, there!” somebody yelled. My hand plunged into the green bean bucket as mashed potatoes slithered down my face. I turned a stunned face toward Mr. Fairchild. He wasn’t paying attention to me. He was busy pushing away a man trying to restrain him. A second man jumped into the fray, and finally a third. Mr. Fairchild staggered in a circle with three men dragging him down.

  “Leave me alone!” he shrieked. Moments later the four of them toppled to the ground, with one of them yelling, “Get security!”

  A touch on my shoulder made me nearly jump out of my skin. I looked, wild-eyed. Wearing glasses and an expression of concern, an older woman asked, “Are you okay?”

  I nodded dumbly, not at all sure if I was okay or not. Tears threatened my eyes, and I bit them back. Not going to let him make me cry.

  “Come on,” she guided me to the far wall where some of the cooking staff stood watching from the kitchen. One of them handed her a towel, and she reached up to blot off my face. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “Thank you.” I took the towel gratefully and hid my face in it. Don’t you break, I warned myself. After a few shuddering breaths, I leaned over to shake out what appeared to be ham and a few fish sticks from my hair.

  “Come back here,” one of the cooks said. “We have a sprayer. We can do better than that towel.”

  I followed him reluctantly, not wanting to leave my female rescuer. Mr. Fairchild was still on the floor with his hands being held behind his back by one of the men straddling him. Security had arrived there now, and they were surrounded by a group of witnesses, each sharing their story of what they saw.

  “Come on,” the cook said again. I followed him to the sink where dirty dishes sat in towering stacks. He grabbed the sprayer and tested the water, then motioned for me to tip my head over the sink.

  Quickly, he sprayed the warm water through my hair. Gravy, potatoes, and who knows what else rinsed down into the trap. He turned the water off and handed me a towel.

  “Thanks,” I said. I rubbed my hair, and then blotted at the various stains on my shirt.

  “You look good,” he said. “You single?” He winked, making me smile.

  “I just can’t believe that happened,” I said, handing back the towel.

  He tossed it in a bin. “Yeah. I’ve been here five years and ain’t never seen nothing like that. I did see a fist fight almost break out over the last cupcake, though.” he grinned. “But what can I say? I make a mean cupcake.”

  I smiled again. Amazing how complete strangers can restore your faith in humanity.

  “Excuse me, Miss?” One of the security guards poked his head through the doorway. “The police are here and would like to talk with you.”

  “Your fans await,” the cook said, waving his hand toward the door. “Don’t worry. You look great.”

  “Thank you again.”

  “No problem. And I’m serious if you want to grab a drink later.” He held the door open, and I went through. That was the first time I’d been asked out in a while. I might have to rethink my whole food-fight-to-snag-a-date strategy.

  There was still a small crowd of people in the cafeteria, surrounding an officer. Another officer approached me with his tablet out. I sighed. I was starting to get on a last name basis with the entire department.

  “Justice will be done! No one will keep me from getting justice!” shouted Mr. Fairchild. I glanced at the cafeteria entrance in time to see Mr. Fairchild being led out the door in handcuffs by two policemen. Standing in the doorway was Kristi. She watched him for a moment, then turned and caught my eye.

  Her expression was unreadable.

  Chapter 20

  That night, I dragged myself through the suite door again. All the lights were out, and Momma was in bed. Every time I’ve come home lately I feel like I’ve been beaten up with a two by four. I snorted. Only this time, it was a cafeteria plate. I looked at the clock on the wall. If I were Cinderella, I’d have turned back into a pumpkin by now.

  My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it to see a text from Ruby. —Maisie! I’m so horrified! I can’t believe my uncle did that. I’m so so sorry. When will he learn?

  I sighed. Well, that was kind of cryptic. What did that mean? Honestly, at this point, I didn’t want to think anymore. I scuffed my way into the kitchen, barely lifting my feet. Every muscle in my body ached. I opened the fridge, blinking a bit at the bright light. There were two butter containers. After hefting them both, I chose the one on the right. Momma liked to use these for leftovers.

  I popped the lid and smiled to myself. Ah, padawan, you have chosen wisely. Inside was a square of lasagna. Without bothering to heat it up, I grabbed a fork and dug in. Leaning against the counter, I chewed and thought wearily about my day.

  Kristi had come across the cafeteria to make sure I was okay. She’d apologi
zed for her uncle, and I’d done my best to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault. I took another bite and sighed. Luckily for the Bentley sisters, it seemed the crazy didn’t extend to their extended family.

  After a few more bites I tossed the fork and container into the sink. I slowly scuffed my way to my room, pausing outside Momma’s door for a quick peek inside.

  She was asleep again, snuggled against the basset. Bingo raised his head and looked sleepily at me.

  “Good boy, Bingo. Go to sleep,” I whispered, then shut the door.

  Once in my room, I stripped off my clothes and let them lay where they fell. I needed a shower. I could still smell the gravy. But I was too tired to do anything else but pull on a pajamas, climb into bed, and pull the covers over my head. I was asleep so fast I don’t even remember my head hitting the pillow.

  The next morning, I woke up to two texts, one from Kristi letting me know that her uncle had been arrested. The second was from Ruby. —Maisie! Natalie opened her eyes! She’s awake!

  I smiled, filled with tingling joy as I sent back one filled with hearts and smiles. That was the best news I could have received, especially after the horrors of yesterday.

  Still smiling, I took my time getting ready, promising myself that today I wouldn’t leave the hotel. Luckily, Sierra and Clarissa had handled everything like pros yesterday, but I couldn’t disappear like that again. Although I was on good terms with Mr. Phillips, I didn’t want to have to explain my absence. He had a healthy allergy to anything shaded with drama.

  At breakfast, feeling all fresh and smelling good, I filled Momma in on what had happened at the cafeteria. She happily crunched through her toast as she listened.

  “So, are you taking the cook up on his invitation?” Momma asked when I was finished.

  “Momma! I just told you all that horrible stuff, and that’s what you got out of it?”

  She shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. And he sounds like he might be a catch.”

  “For all you know, he could be an axe murderer,” I retorted.