We walked into a dim hall, stale cigars and the reek of cigarette clogging my nose. Andrew shut the door behind us, and at that moment, a door on the opposite side swung open. A lanky man with heavy stubble appeared, zipping his jeans. He stopped and threw us a questioning look. Andrew gave him a short nod. The man mumbled in Spanish and went past us. We followed him into a seedy, dark pub with mismatched tables and chairs occupied mostly by men. William was a head taller than everyone else, so I quickly located him. At the bar, he was carrying on an enthusiastic conversation with a bartender, six shot glasses between them. Four were empty, and two were filled with a dark liquid. What the hell was he doing here?
A frustrated groan left my mouth.
William’s hazel eyes met mine, he grinned and said something to his new friend. They picked up glasses, saluted, and took a swig.
Andrew grasped my hand, threading his fingers with mine, and led me to the bar. At his firm grip, a longing I never imagined I could feel for this man shot through me, from my heart to the tips of my toes. And I didn’t know what to make of the foreign feeling, but I welcomed it.
“Here is Rick O’Connell and…” William paused scrunching his nose, “what’s the woman’s name fromThe Mummy?”
“William?” I hissed. “What the hell happened to watching our stuff?”
“No worries, I found a trustful boy to keep an eye on our car.” He gestured to two empty seats near him. “Care to join me for a drink?”
“We need to leave. Now.” Andrew withdrew several bills from his wallet and dropped them on the bar.
* * *
When we stepped outside, it was to find that the sun had made its way around the mountain, dazzling the skies with brilliant colors of orange and blazing red. The streets had got busier with people, relaxing at cafés, chatting near shop doors, or rushing somewhere, carrying grocery bags. The delicious aromas of grilled meat and fried food flooded the air and my senses, making my stomach growl. Strangers threw us concerned glances as we marched in the direction of the alley where William had left our car with a boy to whom he’d apparently given fifty dollars to watch our stuff.
“OMG. Adriana, look at yourself.” William’s eyes bugged out as he saw me properly in the light, and he slapped his hand over his mouth. “Did you crawl through a graveyard?”
Pretty much.
I glanced down at my dress, and my body deflated like an old balloon. My once-white dress had streaks of black and brown, twigs stuck to its fabric, and a small tear at the hem.
Fuck.
“It’s not so bad.” I sighed.
I liked this dress a lot. At whatever hotel we found to stay at, I’d soak it in the water and scrub it with soap to ease dirt out of the fabric. In the past, I had removed much worse things from my clothing, like red wine, blood, and someone else’s puke. Dirt didn’t scare me.
Andrew settled behind the steering wheel and slid the found book between the driver’s seat and the console. To my surprise and great relief, our suitcases were untouched.
“Can we find a store and buy club soda?” I said, opening the passenger door. “I want to get some spots out before I wash it.”
Andrew gave me a once-over. “Try gasoline.”
“Really?” I stared at him with confusion. “It works too?”
“Yes.” His smirk deepened. “With a match, you light it on fire.”
I scowled at him. “You owe me a dress.”
William reached out and dusted something off my head. “You have cobwebs in your hair.”
I sighed and swore under my breath. I probably had cobwebs in other places, too.
ChapterNine
“Ihave bad news.” Andrew returned from the hotel desk dangling two keys in his hand. “They only had two rooms.”
We’d found a small hotel three towns away from the San Sierra—best to keep a good distance from a crime scene. It was an old Spanish colonial home with uneven wood floors and plaster walls. If it wasn’t so rundown, it’d be charming, but the hotel was in need of some serious TLC. Still, it was what it was, and I’ve spent nights in much worse places than this. All I needed was a clean bed and a hot shower.
“Adriana, you can have your own room.” Andrew handed me a key. “William and I can share the other. It has a bigger bed.”
I was touched that Andrew was trying to be a gentleman and let me have some privacy. And I liked that he didn’t mind spending a night in the same bed with another man—a man who hadn’t sobered up during our thirty-minute ride. Judging by the alcoholic fumes wafting off of him, William needed a longer shower than I did.
“No worries.” I pressed the key back into his palm and snatched the other one. “William and I shared a double mattress until he went to Emory. We don’t mind splitting a room.”
