a couple of fresh towels, I pulled on the fluffy bathrobe that was hanging on the inside of the bathroom door. I went into the bedroom and set the alarm clock for five so I could get up early to do my hair.
I was going to call Emma back in New York, but then I realized how late it was and decided to just text my daughter good-night instead. Too exhausted to get into my pj’s, I sat for a moment on the side of the bed.
Beyond the open doorway of the bedroom, the living room curtains were wafting gently in the breeze from the rooftop patio slider. Between them a slight sliver of the moon glowed over the still silver plain of the water.
Could Charlie see it, too? I wondered. I couldn’t deny how I was starting to feel about him. He was funny, intelligent, not hard to look at, though the breakfast beers would have to go.
I turned off the light and lay back on the pillows, already half asleep, when I had a much less romantic thought. Without turning, I glanced over at the billowing living room curtains, furling now in the dark like a full sail.
But how could the curtains be blowing in the breeze? I thought.
Chapter 87
FOR THE NEXT two solid minutes, I lay there in the dark, my heart rapping like a set of brass knuckles at the inside of my chest, silence sizzling in my ears.
Then my molars clicked together involuntarily as a faint scraping sound came from just beyond the open bedroom door.
Something in my chest started to flutter when I heard it again. It came from the left, as if someone standing in the suite’s kitchen had shifted his weight.
Not just any someone either, I suddenly thought.
I knew I couldn’t just stay there, that I needed to get up, hide, run, do something. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Animal fear pressed down on my chest like a lead blanket, making me weak, pinning me to the bed.
After a long, careful, silent breath, I lifted my hand as if to prove to myself that I could, in fact, move.
Good, I thought stupidly.
Now I needed to do the same thing
I reached out as I slowly sat up, my right hand brushing along the top of the bedside radio alarm clock. I was standing, my eyes glued to the dark doorway, when I had an idea. I bent down slowly, unplugged the heavy clock, and brought it with me to the side of the open bedroom door.
As I arrived, a dark figure moved smoothly and silently through the bedroom doorway.
At first, I didn’t believe it.
Then a switch tripped somewhere in the primordial part of my brain, and I snapped out of my daze and swung the clunky alarm clock by its cord two-handed as hard as I could.
There was an unexpectedly loud shattering sound followed by a heavy thump as the figure immediately went down. I’d swung high and assumed I’d hit Peter in the head, but I didn’t stick around to find out. I dropped what was left of the clock and ran in a blind panic out of the bedroom.
In two strides, I was through the suite’s living room, my hand wrapped around the front doorknob, turning and pulling in one motion.
Then my arm almost came out of its socket as the door jerked to a stop only a quarter of the way open.
Hysterical, I tried the door two more times before I realized the slide lock was still engaged. Moaning and literally shaking with terror, I forced myself to methodically close the door, flip the lock free, and then try the knob again.
That did it. I ran out into the blindingly bright hallway and burst through the closest stairwell door to my left. My bare feet slapped painfully off the concrete as I half ran, half fell down the stairs.
As I made the next lower landing, I paused. Huffing and puffing, I tried to quell my rioting mind and figure out what to do next. Should I go into the hallway and knock on some doors? Go down to the lobby? That’s when the stairwell door above me blew open like it had been torn off its hinges.
Heavy footsteps began to hammer down the stairs as I turned and ripped open the lower floor’s door. Shedding towels, with my robe flying wide, I ran half-naked now down the new hallway. Every molecule of my being was focused on one thing: pumping my legs up and down as fast as they would go, moving away from the sound behind me.
As I turned the next corner, I spotted a red metal box on the wall. A loud clanging started immediately as I yanked the fire alarm on the run. Doors opened up and down the hallway. A groggy teenager’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he saw me streak past him at about thirty miles an hour.
I hit the next stairwell door and took this newest set of stairs two by two all the way to the ground floor. I crossed the empty lobby in nothing flat and headed for the hotel driveway. Standing in the drive’s turnaround, the night manager was on his cell phone and looking up at the building.
I thought about stopping and asking for his help, but even he would be no protection from Peter, I realized. I spotted a taxi stopped at the light on the corner and bolted for it.
The traffic light turned from red to green when I was still about twenty feet away.
I wasn’t going to make it, I thought as I ran barefoot, wheezing and covered in sweat, into the street. I winced, waiting for the feel of a bullet in my back, to fall sprawling on the asphalt. In my hysterical mind, it was already over. I could actually see Peter coming over and smiling his easy smile as he placed a gun to my forehead.
But instead, the cab suddenly stopped short and I jumped in. I broke a nail ripping open the handle of its rear door.
“In a rush, are we?” the young Asian wiseass of a driver said as I collapsed across the rear seat.
“Drive,” I gasped. “Drive, drive. Please just drive.”
Chapter 88
I MADE THE TAXI DRIVER PROMISE to wait for me as I pounded on Charlie’s front door.
He finally opened it, wearing a pair of Texas A&M boxer shorts.
“What the hell?” Charlie said. “Nina?”
I smoothed my still wet hair as I stood in my bathrobe, staring at him. I hadn’t thought this far in advance. What could I say? How could I explain what had just happened?
He reached out and grabbed my elbow, sudden concern in his eyes.
“Nina, are you OK? Are you hurt?”
I was about to tell him that there was a fire at the hotel. Why not? What was another lie on top of nearly two decades’ worth?
I was more surprised than anyone about what happened next. Maybe it was the fact that I’d come unglued
