“I said I’m fine. It’s just bruised.”
“Maybe we should take you to the emergency room.”
“Whoa. Who needs to go to the emergency room?” Danny had just exited the corridor to the courtyard, his new friend Dori stuck to his side.
“Nobody,” Anna said quickly, her voice strong. “I just tripped and banged into something, and Wes is overreacting.”
“Protective of your girlfriend, are you?” Dori said.
Danny let out a laugh. “Anna is Wes’s girlfriend? He wishes.”
Dori merely smiled, but the look in her eye let Wes know she suspected she was right.
“Hey, we’re going to grab something to eat, then head over to the bar,” Danny said. “Wanna come?”
“I don’t think so,” Wes said.
“Come on, Danny,” Dori said. “They want to be alone.”
“Ha. Alone. Right. Well, if you get bored or thirsty or want to look at more of those pictures, you know where to find us.”
“Sure.”
Danny tipped a hat he wasn’t wearing, then continued down the walkway.
Wes and Anna had only taken a few steps toward his room when Wes stopped. “Our suits. Here.” He handed her his room key and returned to the bike. They’d stashed their chlorine-soaked swimsuits in the compartment behind the Triumph’s seat.
But he’d barely got it open when Anna rushed back out of his room. “Call nine-one-one.”
He scrambled for the phone in his pocket. “Is your pain worse?”
“It’s not me.”
27
In the movies, when someone came home to find their place had been searched, it usually looked like a government-declared disaster area. That wasn’t quite what Wes found when he entered his hotel room, but close enough.
Everything that had been in his suitcase-shirts, underwear, socks, pants, a few books-had been tossed into a pile on the floor. The bed was skewed, the mattress twisted at a forty-five-degree angle from the box spring, the sheets and blankets ripped off and thrown in a separate pile against the far wall. Though Wes hadn’t used the dresser, all the drawers had been pulled out and were either on the floor or hanging in their openings. And in the bathroom, the contents of his shaving kit had been dumped into the sink.
Panicked, he ran over to the closet and jerked the door open. Surprisingly, the camera was still there. But the relief was only short-lived when he realized the backpack with his laptop and the case with the backup system for the cameras were both gone.
“No!” he yelled.
Anna came up behind him. “What is it?”
“They took the computers.”
While they waited for the police, Wes and Anna searched her room to see if anyone had been there, but it was untouched.
The same investigator from the previous evening, Detective Stevens, showed up accompanied by Detective Andrews. After a quick examination of Wes’s room, the night manager loaned them the motel office so they could talk to Wes in private.
“Not a good couple days for you,” Stevens said. “Detective Andrews told me about earlier tonight.”
“I’ve had better weekends,” Wes said.
“It’s only half over,” Andrews quipped.
“Thanks for that,” Wes said. “But what happened earlier tonight has to be connected to this.”
Stevens took out a notebook. “What makes you say that?”
“Don’t you see? The people chasing us were just buying time while their friends went through my room.”
Stevens held his gaze for a moment, but only said, “Perhaps.”
“Well, if they were,” Andrews said, “you’ve got a lot of people wanting to cause you trouble. At least one each in those cars, and someone here. So who is it you pissed off?”
Wes did have one idea, but he shook his head. “No one.”
“No enemies in town? Someone who might want to do you harm?”
“This is the first time I’ve been here in seventeen years. So no.”
“You’re from L.A., right? Any problems down there that might have followed you up?”
“No. Of course not. Look, whoever did this was obviously interested in our equipment, and was just waiting for an opportunity to take it.”
“Perhaps,” Stevens said again.
“But your camera’s still here,” Andrews pointed out. “Odd to leave that but take everything else, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re more interested in computer equipment,” Wes said.
“Do you think this is related to what happened in Miss Mendes’s room last night?” Stevens asked.
Wes hesitated. This was getting close to his own theory. “It
There were several more questions, all variations on ones already asked. When Wes was done, he found Anna in the lobby with Alison, so he slumped into the chair across from them.
“The manager said he’d put you in the room on the other side of mine,” Anna said. “He also said he’s comping you, too. Think he’s afraid we’re going to say something bad about the place on the show.”
“We
“I doubt it,” Wes said.
Alison didn’t look convinced. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m sleeping with a chair jammed under the doorknob until we leave.”
They fell silent for several moments.
“Should we tell the others?” Anna asked.
“Danny’s busy with his new lady friend,” Wes reminded her.
Alison rolled her eyes, disgusted. “The way you said that just sounds wrong.”
“Tell me a way to say it that sounds right.”
Alison paused for a moment. “Wow. I can’t think of one.”
“What about Tony?” Anna said.
“His room’s next to mine,” Alison said. “I could tell him.”
Wes nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”
The door to the outside opened, and the night manager walked in, all energy and nerves. “Mr. Stewart, I’ve got you all set. I even sent someone out to get you some toiletries.”
“That wasn’t necessary,” Wes told him.
The manager waved him off. “I also wanted to let you all know that we are adding extra security every night for the remainder of your stay.”
“Thank you,” Anna said.
“Let me get you your keys.”
The man all but jogged to the reception desk. A moment later he was back with two keycards, one a spare in case Wes needed it.
As Wes took them he said, “I don’t remember seeing any damage to my room door. Could whoever broke in have had their own key?”
“I don’t see how,” the manager said, immediately defensive.
