by L. L. Muir
Dave laughed, but there was a faint taste of hopelessness about that laugh. And the fact that he didn’t answer was telling. He looked out at the Davenport for a long minute before his attention came back to her.
“We need to get you back to Shawn, and you’re going to have to convince him we’re here to help, and that we have a sound plan to get you all get out of town. We have no idea if your hotel room is bugged. The Davenport is an extremely old-fashioned building in every way. We can’t run wires through walls and ceilings made of plaster, you know? Getting eyes inside your room is impossible without Shawn knowing about it, but we figure if we can’t, then Lacrosse hasn’t been able to either. Of course, we won’t count on that,” he said. “It’s going to take some skill on your part, but you have to do two things. You have to act normal, and you have to tell Shawn what’s going on without Lacrosse hearing you.”
It was probably a bad sign—the excitement she got from the thought of being back with Shawn again—but it was no time to think about stupid stuff, like her heart.
“What do I do? Take him out into the hallway?”
Dave grimaced. “No. We’re sure they’ve got eyes and ears in the hallway.”
Her mind raced through all the things they might have heard or seen between the suite and the elevator. Shawn had spoken to Joseph out there, but she had no idea what had been said. She wished she could turn back time and not get the kid involved in the first place. Now it was probably too late. Unless Dave was wrong.
So she asked. “How do you know they’re watching the hallway?”
“Because we are. And anything we can do, they can do better. ”
“Oh.”
“But they can only have eyes in your room if they’ve got something hard-wired. Shawn is hopefully sweeping the place for bugs every day.”
She nodded. “He is.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear he hasn’t forgotten everything.”
Macey figured he was referring to the taxi driver. Dave had seemed pretty disappointed they’d messed up where that woman was concerned. But being on the lam with an eighty-year-old woman had its limitations.
“So, what do you suggest?”
Dave shrugged. “I hate to say it, since you’re my girl and all…”
She rolled her eyes to make sure he didn’t think she believed it.
“But the best thing to do would be to climb in the shower with him. Get your mouth close to his ear, and tell him everything while Lacrosse thinks you’re…doing other things.” He grinned. “I’m not suggesting you do other things, of course.”
Macey shook her head. “I’ll have to think of something else.”
“I don’t know—”
She held up a finger. “I can write it in a notebook. Let him read it.”
“While Lacrosse might be reading it over his shoulder?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll think of something.”
Dave nodded. “Well, at least you have a back-up plan then.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I figure we’re going to have to get you all out of there by tomorrow night. I don’t think, between you and Shawn, that you can keep it together much longer and be convincing.”
“You’re right. The sooner the better. I want to get this crap over and done with so I can get my life back.”
Dave looked at his empty glass and scrunched his face for a few seconds. When he turned back to her, he was all smiles again.
“That might not happen for a while, but don’t worry. It will all be straightened out eventually.”
She felt anything but reassured. “He’s going to want to know the plan.”
Dave nodded. “You go back all bummed out because the carousel was closed, and say something benign about the time that has lapsed, since the decoy would have returned.”
“Like I wandered around the hotel, looking for a while…”
“Right. And insist that you all go back tomorrow and ride the gondola too. When you get to the gondola, we’ll have decoys get on the gondola and we’ll take us through the tunnels, behind the dam, to a waiting van. If they don’t realize the switch has been made until the gondolas return without you, we’ll have about a half hour’s head start on Lacrosse.”
“Decoys? You’ve got people who look like us?”
Dave shook his head. “Close enough. We’ve purchased some of the same things Shawn bought for you guys. Here’s what you need to wear.” He pulled a list from his shirt pocket and handed it over. “The decoys will wear the same.”
“Yeah, but what about those people? I don’t want someone murdered just because they are mistaken for me. I’m pretty sure Shawn and Dorothy Jean feel the same.”
Dave winked. “They’ll have Kevlar on, but I’m sure Lacrosse will be in too big of a hurry to deal with them. Besides, they’re willing to make any necessary sacrifice to expose WHOSO’s cover-up. They’re invested in this too.” He gave her a wide, salesman smile. “Our little underground organization is growing, babe. One of these days, we’ll be big enough to bring them all down. One day soon.”
She wondered who he was trying to sell the optimism to, her or himself.
“And with you and Dorothy and Shawn, we’ll have some serious weapons to use against them. It’s too bad Dorothy’s implant isn’t working better, though.”
She hadn’t mentioned the implant, or how Dorothy Jean was doing. But she let his assumption of Dorothy Jean’s state of mind stand. If he was trying to pump her for information, she wasn’t going to give it to him until they were all wearing the same team shirt.
She gave as neutral a response as she could. “Don’t worry about Dorothy Jean. She’s not as frail as you might think.”
Dave pulled out a phone, dialed, punched the number “3” three times, then hung up again. “Let’s get you ready then. Parker’s probably chomping at the bit by now.”
A minute later, the beanie boys arrived carrying a long black wig and some black clothes.
She changed in the bathroom and put her own clothes in a duffle bag with the Davenport logo on the side. She let Dave have the final approval, then he walked her to the door.
She smiled. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
He leaned forward for a kiss but she turned her head and his lips brushed her cheek.
“I’m still not going to get in the shower with him,” she said.
He grinned. “Better for me.”
“No.” She shook her head lightly. “I won’t be having any shower meetings with you either.”
“We’ll see.”
Though she was thrilled to see Dave alive, his friends still gave off nothing but menacing vibes. And until she heard his explanation for rising from the grave, she wasn't going to throw him a parade or anything.
Shawn was going to be pretty disappointed in her for letting those Bozos get her into the van. And if she didn't start protecting herself, she wasn't going to live long enough to see how it all ended.
***
She couldn’t believe how tired her legs were. Dave made her walk complete around the block and come down Lincoln Street instead of walking across Sprague. But she could see his point, even though her legs were shaking from all the adrenaline that had processed through them in the last hour and a half.
She walked around to the service entrance and prayed no one would question her. As soon as she opened the door, however, she thought she was in trouble. There was a desk and bank of timecards in metal slots, but there was no one manning the place and no one to ask why she didn’t punch in. For the moment, at least, she was in the clear.
In her nervous state, she opened a door and stepped through before she realized she’d walked into a men’s dressing room. She saw only a few hairy legs below white terrycloth before spinning on her heel and rushing back out, ignoring the catcalls. She had no choice but to go back to the start and try to remember Dave’s instructions more clearly, which was impossible, since he’d used north and south dir
ections when what she really needed was left and right.
She hurried through the women’s locker room and out the door beyond the showers. At least that room had been what she’d expected. When she found herself in a hallway, she turned to the right, hoping her inner GPS was guiding her. She ended up looping around and coming back past the locker room door.
Twenty feet later, she passed a door clearly marked as the men’s dressing room and continued on. Though the door opened behind her, she didn’t turn back.
“Hey!” a young man called out. “Wait!” He caught up to her and grabbed her elbow.
She turned with a start.
They both stared in shock.
“Joseph! Oh, I’m so glad it’s you!”
“Mrs. Phil…uh…um…” He suddenly looked behind them, which scared the crap out of her, but then he relaxed. He must have been worried Shawn and his gun would be with her. “What are you doing down here? I mean, I’m not supposed to talk to you anymore.” His face suddenly smoothed and he stared at her mouth. “Did you come down here looking for me?”
“Joseph...”
He licked his lips and she put her hands up to hold him back.
“No. I mean I’m so glad to see you because I’m lost and I need to get back to my room.”
His shoulders dropped and his eyes came back up to hers. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to get you into trouble. If you’ll just point me toward an elevator that will take me to the seventh floor, I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah. I don’t think so. Come with me.”
She tried to resist, but the kid was a hiding a lot of muscle in those bones and she could barely keep her feet beneath her as he propelled her around a corner.
“One of Lacrosse’s guys is going to be coming out of the dressing room any second.”
She stopped resisting.
“He’s going to be acting as your bellhop from now on.”
“Then I’d better get to my room, huh?”
“Yeah. ‘Cause if he catches me talking to you, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fired.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll be dead, Joseph. Just tell me where to go and you turn back. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.”
His grin came back. She rolled her eyes and he laughed.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Turn right at the corner. Elevators on your left. Keep your head down. You don’t look like any maid I’ve ever seen at the Davenport. Any housekeeper will stop you and kick you out if they see you. It’s pretty competitive around here.”
“Thanks.”
His mouth twitched.
She laughed and kissed his cheek.
With one finger, he touched where she’d kissed and pretended to slide it around to his lips.
She turned away and started praying she wouldn’t run into any maids on the service elevator because she had no idea what she’d do if some chick tried to stop her from reaching her room. And she prayed even harder that Joseph wasn’t watching her butt instead of putting as much distance between them as possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Macey got off the elevator on the seventh floor and tried not to look around her for little cameras or little microphones. If she went picking through the potted plants, she’d give herself away. But what she worried most was the chance that Shawn might mention her maid’s costume before she got him shushed.
If there were cameras by the door, there was nothing she could do but hope they weren’t paying strict attention. She had her key at the ready and slid it into the lock and out again without intending to slow her momentum, but the card didn’t work and she had to stop. She quickly tried again so Shawn wouldn’t worry that someone was trying to break in, but again, the little light remained red. If he had changed the locks on purpose, she was going to kill him!
She took a deep breath and held it, then used the card again, only a little slower. There was a faint click, then the light turned green. She pressed the handle and hurried into the room, so grateful to be inside she doubted she’d ever ask for another breath of fresh air again.
She completely expected Hot Shawn to pounce on her the second she walked through the door, but he didn’t. He wasn’t sitting in the living room watching the news. And it looked like Dorothy Jean had been serious about going to bed early and staying there. But it looked strange to see her bedroom door closed without the blockade in front of it.
Then she realized Shawn wouldn’t put it up until she was on the other side.
Duh.
She walked to the master bedroom door and knocked. There was no way she’d be able to keep all her secrets to herself until morning. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, exactly, but she would find a way to tell him things had changed. She only hoped he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.
The door opened when she knocked on it. The television was on, but Shawn wasn’t in the room. The bathroom door stood open. The light was off.
And a chill ran up her spine so fast and so shocking, it was almost audible.
Something was wrong!
She marched over to the bathroom door and flipped on the light, dreading the possibility of finding Shawn’s body lying on the floor, and in a helluva hurry to get that image out of her head.
No Shawn on the floor. No Shawn in the tub.
Only when she stepped back into the room and closed the door did she realize how afraid she’d been, how seriously afraid he was dead.
She tried to walk calmly for anyone who might be listening in, and crossed to the adjoining door. It, too, swung open with no resistance. She flipped the light on, knowing before she did that Dorothy Jean wouldn’t be there either. The place was eerily silent without an old woman’s breathing that sounded like rustling paper.
They were gone.
The question was…did they leave on their own? Or did Lacrosse come collect them?
Had Shawn decided to punish her for leaving them first? Was he trying to scare her? Or, had he figured out Lacrosse was onto them? She couldn’t imagine how, though, unless he’d recognized someone. If Cop Dracula had someone planted as a bellhop, he probably had others running around in red and gold Davenport uniforms.
Back by the main door, the backpacks were gone. All of them. Not a good sign. If Shawn would have taken Dorothy Jean and gone in a hurry, he probably would have left Macey’s backpack for her. If Lacrosse had taken them, he’d probably taken everything along.
So she was going to go on the assumption that Lacrosse already had them.
Poor Dorothy Jean. And if Dave was accurate, there was a good chance Shawn was dead.
And with no reason to keep Macey alive, Lacrosse would probably kill her too. And now that she was back, someone would be coming to collect her. She had to get out of there. It didn’t matter that she wanted to fall apart and crawl under the sofa. It didn’t matter if her heart was shattering, or if there might be something she could do to save the others. For the moment, she had to go.
Go now!
She hurried, quietly, back to the other room and opened the closet. Her clothes were gone. She had nothing on her but a couple hundred dollars and her makeup. For now, the maids of the Davenport posed much less of a threat than Lacrosse’s people, so she wouldn’t change clothes.
She carefully turned the handle on the outer door, pulled it open an inch, and listened.
Nothing.
She opened the door wider and stuck her head out. A black-clad figure stood at the main entrance to the Governor’s Suite! She stifled a gasp and pulled back before she could catch any details. A man, for sure. The click of the lock echoed in the silent hallway. He was in the suite!
She had no time to think. Her best bet was to hurry past the main door before the goon discovered he’d missed her. She slipped out the door but didn’t close it completely. Since the hall ended ten feet to the right, she had no choice but to head back to the elevator. And though she had no intention of waiting for the doors to open, s
he had to pass it to get to the stairs.
She held her breath as she passed the door to the suite that stood slightly ajar. Whoever was inside moved quietly. She turned on tiptoes toward the elevator, but she’d forgotten about the Davenport duffle bag on her shoulder and she couldn’t correct its momentum fast enough to keep it from slamming into the corner of the wall.
Then she ran.
Her heart seemed to burst over and over again in her chest as she sprinted toward the stair door. She glanced at the elevator on the off chance the doors would be open, but they weren’t. The light on the old-fashioned panel turned off next to the number six and turned on next to the five.
Oh, well.
She flew through the door to the stairs and prayed she would get it closed behind her before Lacrosse’s man came back out of the Governor’s Suite. She pressed it shut without looking up. If someone had seen her, she would have panicked. And if she was going to run down seven flights of stairs, she had to pay attention.
She headed down, concentrating on her footwork, but she hadn’t even reached the sixth floor landing when the door opened above her. She was going to die if she didn’t move faster. So she willed her body to drop down the stairs as fast as gravity would take her, then hoped her sensible maid shoes could keep up.
“Macey!” Someone whispered from above. It might have been Shawn, but it could have been someone else just as easily.
She stopped to listen.
“CC!”
It was Shawn! He wasn’t dead! And he hadn’t abandoned her!
She silently bawled like a baby for a few seconds before she peeked up and found his face staring down through the narrow gap in the center of the staircase. He closed his eyes for a second with relief. Then he winked at her and held out a flat hand, telling her to stay put.
Listening to his footfalls on the stairs made her cry harder. Her knight in shining armor was coming. Everything was going to be all right.
She was one hell of a mess by the time Shawn reached her. He wore jeans and a dark grey t-shirt and had a hotel towel over his arm. He took her hand and walked her down to the landing. Then he spun her to face him and wrapped his arms around her, buried his nose in her long black hair, and squeezed the breath out of her.
