Still, I wasn’t there to read old magazines, although I’d probably find some time to at least browse their covers later. I took a few steps up to the counter. The kid’s eyes darted up towards me and widened slightly in surprise, and he leaned forward, fingers tapping away at his keyboard. Whatever show he was watching stopped, and I caught a brief glimpse of a peppermint candy in what looked like a suit on the screen before he snapped the lid shut.
“Hi,” the kid said, pulling his headphones away from a shock of blond hair. “Welcome to The Last Chance. You looking for a room?”
“Yeah,” I said, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out my wallet. “How much are they a night?”
“Sixty-seven dollars each, if you’re only staying for a night or two,” the kid said, reaching underneath his counter and pulling out a stack of paper atop a clipboard. “If you stay for three days, you’ll get a five dollar discount, and another two dollar discount past five days.”
“So sixty bucks a day then?” I said, flipping my wallet open and checking my meager cash supply. Hopefully there was an ATM in town somewhere. The trip out had taken a bit more cash than I’d expected, mostly for gas.
“As long as you’re staying for more than five days,” the kid said, nodding. I nodded and pulled two fifties and a twenty out of my wallet. Might as well start by paying for more than the first day.
“As long as I’m over five days, sixty bucks a day, or do I have to stay for another five days?” I asked, holding the bills between my thumb and forefinger. Might as well clarify before I locked myself into a deal.
“As long as it’s over five days, sixty dollars a day,” the kid said with a nod. He flipped the clipboard around and snapped a pen down on it, the sharp clack cutting through the faint hum of the distant air-conditioning. “But you need to pay in advance for that rate.”
Ouch, I thought, the hand holding my wallet pausing on its way back to my pocket. Then I shrugged. “Can I give you one-twenty now and the other one-eighty later today? I need to hit an ATM.”
“Sure,” the kid said. “There’s one downtown outside the bank.”
“What bank?” I asked as I set the money down and grabbed the pen. I glanced over the paperwork I was signing, but it was pretty straightforward. Just the standard agreement to pay for damages the room incurred before you left, the usual stuff. I scrawled my signature on the dotted line and slid the clipboard back towards the kid, making sure to put my cash on top before I did.
“Ingrim’s,” the kid said as he glanced down at the papers I’d signed. “At least, it used to be. It got bought out by Wells Fargo a few years back, but everybody still calls them that.” He picked up the pen, made a note, and then noticed my name. “Hawke Decroux?”
I nodded. “Yeah, my buddy should have mentioned I was coming. Jacob Rocke?”
“The guy in room one?” the kid asked, giving me a curious look. “No, he hasn’t said anything.”
“That’s odd,” I said, frowning. “I talked to him yesterday afternoon and he said he’d let you know I was coming.”
“Well, I haven’t seen him,” the kid said. “Maybe he forgot?” He spun around in his chair, cash in hand. Then he stopped. “Hey,” he said, looking up at me with a curious expression on his face. “Are you a spook too?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not.” I was telling the truth, technically. Spooks were licensed investigators of the unusual, and I wasn’t that.
“Oh, just a buddy then?” the kid said. I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Me?” he said. “Larry. Larry Bards.”
“Nice to meet you, Larry,” I said, extending my hand. He looked at it for a moment before extending his own. I wrapped my hand around his, taking care not to squeeze too hard as I gave it a good shake that traveled up the kid’s shoulder.
“Nice to meet you too,” Larry said, wincing as I let go of his hand. Apparently I’d once again given it a little too much shake. “And uh, here’re your keys. You’re in room number two.”
“Thanks,” I said, catching the keys as he tossed them to me. The keychain attached to was a copy of the billboard outside, proudly proclaiming the motel’s name through thick, clear, and heavily-scratched plastic. “Oh, and Larry,” I said as I half-turned towards the door.
“Yeah?” he asked, pausing with his headphones halfway back on his head.
“Not all Unusuals are spooks,” I said, giving him a grin before turning and pushing the door open. I waited until I heard his stunned outburst before letting out a laugh, half-wondering if he would follow me out the door with a collection of questions.
But he didn’t, apparently deciding that he’d either get a chance to talk to me later or that he wasn’t that interested. Or maybe he was one of those people who was scared of Unusuals like myself. He hadn’t sounded that alarmed about Rocke, though, so that probably wasn’t it.
I was squinting pretty badly by the time I made it back to my car, my eyes taking much longer to readjust to the sunlight than they had getting away from it. Fortunately, I’d planned ahead and packed a pair of heavy-duty sunglasses along for the trip, so once I reached my Rover I gave my eyes a much needed break. Once they stopped watering, I grabbed my duffel from the backseat and—this time locking my Rover—headed for my room.
As I approached the abnormally squat building, I realized why it had looked so odd to me earlier. Part of it was underground; a good third of it, in fact. I walked down the concrete steps leading to my room, giving the building a much closer look now that I was actually planning on entering it. My earlier appraisal of the exterior’s condition hadn’t been far off, though after checking in at the lobby, I had somewhat higher hopes than I’d initially held. Still, the outside of the building was pretty shabby. Bare concrete stared out at me in patchy clusters, and cobwebs pressed up against the outside of the glass. The window shades for my room were down, so I couldn’t get a good look at the inside, either.
I slid the key into the lock, and to my surprise, it turned easily. I stepped into my room, my fingers automatically groping for a light switch on the wall, and a moment later, light flooded my temporary home. Thankfully, like the lobby, it was in much better shape than the outside would have indicated. A large king-sized bed sat against one wall opposite an old—but large—television atop an Ikea dresser, and there was a decent amount of floor space between the two. A floor lamp stood by the head of the bed, casting just enough light towards the far side of the room that I could easily make out the door to the bathroom as well as an air conditioner humming merrily away on some sort of automatic system.
I tossed my duffel on the bed and headed for the bathroom, pausing at the doorframe just long enough to make a cursory check for any signs of animal life in my room. I couldn’t pick up anything out of the ordinary; although there was a family of mice close nearby, they didn’t seem to be interested in my room. Not at the moment, at least.
A few minutes later, refreshed and feeling far more alive than I had been so far on my trip—Not adventure, I reminded myself—I took a seat on the side of the bed and pulled out my cell, checking to see if I’d missed any messages from Rocke. Nothing. Not even a text. And I did have service, though it wasn’t exactly fast service. Nonetheless, service was service, and I didn’t have any messages waiting for me. He hadn’t met me outside either, and I’d halfway expected him to. Especially since his car was parked in the lot. Silver Dreams hadn’t looked that large coming in, but as I’d gotten closer, it’d become apparent that the town was pretty spread out. Short of a bicycle, the best way to get from one end to the other in any short amount of time would be driving.
“Well,” I said, slapping my hands down on my thighs as I rose, “maybe he’s next door.” It was possible he’d fallen asleep or gotten caught up in something. Or heck, maybe he was just waiting next door, doing equipment maintenance or working on something. I couldn’t hear anything, but for all I knew that
just meant that the walls were thick.
I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check before I got any more settled into my room, so after a moment’s search for my sunglasses, I left the room, walked next door to room one, and gave the door a nice, even knock.
Nothing. I knocked again. Still nothing.
Odd. Maybe he was out walking somewhere. But it didn’t quite fit. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Rocke’s number, waited for a moment as the call connected, then held it up to my ear. It only took a moment for the familiar buzz to start on the other end of the line.
Moments later, I heard an answering ring from the parking lot. I stopped for a moment, my head coming up, and then the ring came again, right in time with the dull buzz coming from my own phone. Unless I had a second phone in my Rover, there was only one place the call could be coming from.
I climbed up over the concrete barrier that held back the parking lot, ignoring the scrape of gravel against my hands. Another ring, and Rocke’s phone went to voicemail. I hung up and redialed his number as I moved towards his car. Once again the buzz started, mixed with the answering ring from his car. I cupped a hand against the hot glass of the side window, shading the glare somewhat so I could get a better look inside. There, sitting on the passenger seat with its battery indicator flashing a dull red in time with the ringing, was Rocke’s phone.
So where was he? I hung up and slid my phone back into my pocket, frowning. I couldn’t claim to be an expert on Rocke’s habits, but everything I knew about him and his almost ridiculous penchant for extreme preparedness said that he wouldn’t have left his phone sitting in his car if he’d known it was missing. It just wasn’t his style.
I pushed back up against the glass, checking to see if there was anything else sitting in the car, and felt the door give in with a slight click. I pulled back in surprise. Sure enough, the door hadn’t been fully shut. In fact, as I reached out and tested the handle—snatching my hand back as the hot metal burned against my skin—I realized that it wasn’t even locked. There was a worrying feeling in my gut now, and I fought the impulse to open the door and see for myself if anything was wrong. I was a shaman, not a private investigator or a police detective.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, especially since Larry had mentioned he hadn’t seen Rocke in a while. I turned and looked back at Rocke’s, and then over at the lobby. Maybe it was time to take a look in room one.
But first, I was going to get my staff.
Chapter 2
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Larry said, jiggling his keys. He gave me a nervous look that started at my face but moved inexorably towards my staff. I fought the urge to frown. Why were people so unnerved by the staff?
“You’re the employee on duty, aren’t you?” I asked, shifting slightly so that my staff was a little more behind my body. Larry’s eyes snapped back up to my face as he nodded. “So, it’s just a routine check. You said yourself that you hadn’t seen him in a day.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You have to go in there to clean his room, right?”
“Well, yeah—”
“And if you suspected there was damage to the room, you’d go in and check, right?” I could see his resolve weakening under my line of questioning. I had him, and he knew it.
“Well, yeah, we would—”
“And what if you suspected someone was injured and needed help?” I asked, playing my final card.
Larry’s shoulders slumped. “We’d open the door and help,” he said, sounding resigned. “But are you sure he needs help? I could get in a lot of trouble here. I don’t want to lose my job, man. This is a nice job.” I could see his point. From what I’d seen, he pretty much ran the place and got paid by the hour to watch movies on his laptop. What kid his age wouldn’t want a job like that?
“Relax,” I said, shaking my head. “If anyone finds out, you can just blame me. And you don’t even have to tell anyone. Come on, Larry. I’m just worried about my friend.”
“But I’d have to file a report,” he said, turning back towards the door, the keys ringing against his hand again. “I’m supposed to every time I unlock a customer’s door without them knowing.”
“All right,” I said, shrugging. “Tell then there was a suspicious lack of noise, that another customer was worried he was dead or something.”
Larry’s eyes widened as he turned to look at me. “You think he’s dead?” he asked, his voice crossing between horror and interest, as if he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to find a body but at the same time the idea was fascinating.
“I hope not,” I said, shaking my head. “He promised me a quiet, entertaining vacation out here. That, and if something killed Jacob Rocke, I don’t want to meet it.”
“Really?” the kid asked as he gave me a bemused look. “He said ‘entertaining?’ Silver Dreams?”
“Does it matter?” I said, tapping my staff against the door. “Open it up.”
“Alright,” the kid said, shaking his head. “If I lose my job over this …”
“You won’t lose your job, okay?” I said as he slid the key into the door and turned it with a faint click.
The door swung open, revealing a room essentially identical to the one I was staying in, save that everything was on opposite sides of the room. “Hello?” Larry called out.
“Hang on,” I said, angling my staff against his chest and stopping him from taking a step into the room. “Let me go first. He might have a surprise or two waiting.”
“What, like a booby trap?” Larry asked, giving me an incredulous look. “How would I clean his room, then?” I paused for a moment, feeling slightly chagrined. It was a fair point.
“All right,” I said, pulling my staff back. “Let’s go.”
“After you,” Larry said.
I chuckled as I stepped past him, the tip of my staff just above the floor. Even if the kid had a point, the thought was enough that he wasn’t willing to be the first one to find out. I was, even though I wasn’t sure Rocke really was the type to booby trap his own room. I’d certainly never asked him about it, but it was something I could see someone like him doing.
But nothing materialized as I moved into the room. No snaps of arcane energy. No sharp, tangy scents of active magic use. No outcries of surprise at the intrusion, either. In fact, the only thing that met us, surprisingly enough was—
“This guy knows we don’t charge for air conditioning, doesn’t he?” Larry asked as he adjusted his collar. “Why’s it so warm in here?”
I shrugged as I moved further into the room, although he did have a puzzling point. While the AC had certainly been on, its lights and settings showing that it was simply awaiting the temperature to rise to a certain level, the level it was set at wasn’t that much cooler than the heat outside, and with the added stuffiness of the door and window being shut … I tugged at my shirt, feeling a light sweat break out across my already sticky body. Unless there was some kind of life-threatening occurrence or proof of some misdeed in the next few minutes, I was definitely heading back to my room to shower before I spent any more time looking for Rocke.
And unfortunately for my peace of mind, it looked like that was going to be what I ended up doing. I couldn’t see anything out of sorts about the room itself. An open travel bag sat by the side of the bed and some clothes were piled on the room’s lone chair, but other than that, the place hardly looked lived in. The bed had been made, though not with any sort of precision, and a shrug from Larry confirmed that it had probably been Rocke’s doing, not his. Aside from that, everything else looked ordinary. Well, everything I could see. The bathroom door was, annoyingly enough, shut.
“All right,” Larry said, sounding nervous once again. “He’s not here. Now let’s go, man! I could get in a lot of trouble for this!” I felt his fingers try to lock around the crook of my elbow. “Come on!”
“Just a minute,” I said, pulling my arm free with a quick tug. “I’m jus
t going to check the bathroom.” I made my way across the thin carpet with my staff held out in front of me, skimming the tip back and forth above the floor just in case there was something I hadn’t noticed. But once again I didn’t see any obvious sparks of light or smell anything out of the ordinary. Nevertheless, I made a cautious show of opening the bathroom door with the tip of my staff and made a few cursory pokes just in case before flipping on the light and taking a good, hard look at the room itself.
Nothing. Aside from the towels hanging differently and the shaving kit sitting next to the sink, the bathroom was a functional mirror of my own, light-cream tile and a small tub that fortunately had a showerhead, because I would have been hard pressed to sit in it comfortably. But blood? Signs of foul play? None.
“Anything?” Larry hissed at me from the door.
I gave him a look.
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head and keeping my voice neutral. “Nothing at all.”
“Then get out of there!” he said, his voice still low.
“Yeah, fine,” I said, hitting the light switch and turning away from the bathroom. I ran my eyes over the room one last time as I made my way out, but again, I saw nothing out of place.
“Finally!” Larry said as he ushered me out, a bit tricky for him since he only came up to my shoulders. I leaned against the concrete wall while he relocked the door, his fingers slipping in his haste to close the book on his “crime.” “If anyone asks, we never did this.”
Dead Silver Page 2
