“Uh…” I said carefully. “Ginger?”
The growl rose a notch. She focused on the television, her hackles slightly raised.
Gray frowned. “What’s she looking at?”
“I don’t know, the television, I think,” Gwen leaned forward. “That’s weird.”
I glanced up at the screen. One of the scientists pushed a cart of equipment past a rack of glowing vials. Ginger barked, sharp and loud. Once, then twice.
Basia nearly spilled her ice cream. “Okay, that’s creepy.”
“Maybe she doesn’t like white coats,” Gray said. “Or doctors.”
“Or scientists,” I offered. I watched Ginger, unsettled. She was standing now, tail stiff, eyes fixed on the screen like she recognized something. “Ginger. Hey, girl, what is it?”
She growled again, a low, warning sound that made the hairs rise on my arms. Then, over the television hum, came a new sound.
The chime from the elevator.
We all jumped. Basia hit pause on the remote.
“Room service?” Gray asked, but we all shook our heads.
Bam, bam, bam.
Someone knocked on the door. Ginger faced the door, ears up, body tense, a low growl vibrating through her chest.
Gray stood first, all CIA cool. She headed for the door and we followed, huddling behind her.
The knocking came again. Louder this time.
Ginger’s growl deepened, a low, rumbling warning that vibrated through the marble floor.
Gray motioned for us to stay quiet, moving toward the door. She peered through the peephole and quietly flipped the dead bolt on the door, locking it. I sidled up next to her.
“Who is it?” I whispered.
“Not room service,” she said in a low voice. Her voice had gone flat, military, and serious. “Bald guy in a black raincoat. No uniform, no name tag.”
She let me peek through the peephole. He was as she described, but in black pants and a black turtleneck to go with the black raincoat. He seemed highly irritated and impatient as he shifted from foot to foot. Why? Was he hotel security? Had he discovered we had the dog?
“Great,” I muttered. “Just what we needed tonight. Another problem.”
The man knocked again. “Excuse me, ladies,” he called out. “I believe you found my dog earlier today.”
We all froze.
“How the heck—” Gwen started.
“Do not open that door,” I hissed. “How does he know we’re all ladies, and how did he get onto our floor?”
Gray nodded and then called out. “Who are you? And what do you want?”
The man continued speaking, his voice smooth and authoritative. “My name is Richard, and you have a dog that belongs to me and my company. We’ve been tracking her. She slipped her collar in the woods and ran away. She’s quite a valuable property to us and needs to be returned immediately.”
Basia stood, a protective hand over her stomach. “Property?”
Ginger snarled at his voice, bristling with her teeth bared. It was clear she did not like this guy.
