“Yep.”
“And?”
“And the manager wasn’t there.”
“Oh.”
“He rang me back though.”
“And?”
“They have cameras in the hallways.”
“Okay?”
“I reminded him who I was and what had happened. I may have dropped the fact that we hadn’t pressed charges or moved out of the hotel despite being robbed and he agreed to send me the footage I needed.”
“Just like that? You asked for camera footage and they just handed it over? No questions asked? No demands for a warrant?”
“Nope,” I declared proudly, popping thep.
“Geez, woman. You should come work for me. That shit usually takes days, back-and-forth negotiations, and a warrant, only to be told my request had been submitted and they’d come back to me in five to seven days.”
Hayden shook his head and I had to laugh.
“Maybe you should try asking nicely?” I suggested and he shot me a look that said it all. “Anyway, he emailed it through within ten minutes.”
“You’ve watched it?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“I don't really know what I’m looking at. That’s why I was trying to track you down, but you were…”
“Being an asshole and ignoring the world,” Hayden finished for me.
“I wasn’t going to say that, but if the shoe fits…” I left my words hanging and grabbed my laptop from the coffee table. “Want to see? I’m hoping you can figure out what I’m missing.”
“Give me two minutes,” Hayden said, springing off the couch and heading into the bedroom.
While he was gone, I checked my knee and tossed the now-melted ice pack in the sink and threw the bloody tissues in the trash before loading up the video ready to go. When Hayden reappeared, he dropped onto the couch beside me. There wasn’t much room with us both hunched over my laptop, and I could feel the warmth of his thigh pressing against mine.
“Ready?” I asked, slightly embarrassed by the fact it came out as a breathless plea.
“Do it,” Hayden said, offering me an encouraging smile.
Hitting play, we watched the bland beige walls fill the screen with no action. When the housekeeping lady appeared, pushing her cart filled with supplies, Hayden stiffened beside me. I’d already watched it a dozen times and even I was still on the edge of my seat. Leaving her cart against the wall, she disappeared but not before someone else appeared and reached into the cart.
“There! Who’s that?” Hayden asked, pointing at the screen.
“I don't know, but look.” I pointed as the person on camera—dressed in black track pants, a pair of runners, and a gray hoodie—grabbed a key card from the cart and let themselves into Cassidy’s room
“That’s him,” Hayden croaked out barely loud enough for me to hear.
“How do you know it’s a him…”
“Go back.”
