The concierge’s smile turned knowing. “Of course. I’ll take care of the tickets and have them waiting for you at will call, sir.”
James dropped his arm from my back and pulled out his wallet. “Actually, we’d appreciate it if you had the tickets brought to our room. Just slide them under the door.” He handed the man two twenty-dollar bills. “Will that be a problem?”
The concierge looked at the bills in his hand, and his grin spread wider. “It would be my pleasure, Mr.…?”
“Beachum,” James said. “Room 564. Just charge the tickets to my room.”
“Will do, Mr. Beachum. You and Mrs. Beachum have a wonderful evening.”
“You too,” James said, then took my hand and headed for the elevator.
He rebuffed another bellhop’s offer to take our bags before we got on the empty elevator. We rode in silence to the fifth floor, then walked down the hall to our room. The electronic lock clicked when he waved his key card in front of it. He pushed the door open and held it, letting me enter first.
I took two steps inside, then stopped.
This wasn’t a hotel room. It was a suite.
“Nice enough?” he asked, sounding amused.
“It’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed in my life.” I turned to face him. “This room must cost a fortune.”
“I figure I owe you after all the dumps we’ve stayed in this last week.”
I turned again, taking it all in. A seating area with a sofa and two armchairs framed a marble-topped coffee table. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the Arkansas River. To the right sat a four-poster, canopy bed draped in heavy burgundy velvet. Next to the bed was an open doorway that revealed a marble-encased bathroom.
“I was hoping for an Embassy Suites, not the New York City Plaza Hotel.”
He dropped the bags on the floor and stepped up behind me, pressing his chest to my back and sliding his arms around my stomach. “The Embassy Suites was booked.”
“Liar.”
He pressed a kiss to my neck.
“Why the big show about the comedy club tickets?” I’d waited to ask, knowing there were cameras in the elevator.
“Alibi.” He pressed another kiss on my collarbone.
“But we’re not going.”
“I seriously doubt Knox is going to dig that deep. If he hears a couple who looked similar to us checked into the Morrison, then hears they booked tickets to the comedy club tonight, he’s not going to think it’s us.”
“We can’t be sure of that. We should be more careful.”
“Sometimes the safest place to hide is in plain sight.”
“We should make a plan for tonight.” He’d slept for most of the drive, so we hadn’t had a chance to discuss it. “I’m not sure if my contacts will know about Knox or be able to tell us how to find him, but they might have heard something about human trafficking.”
“It’s a good place to start.”
“My closest contact is a bartender at a bar within walking distance of the hotel. Hopefully, he’s working tonight.”
“Sounds good.” He dropped his arms and headed for the bathroom. “I think we should take a shower before we go.”
I leaned my face toward my armpit and sniffed. “Do I stink?”
He chuckled. “No, but it seems a shame to let a shower like this go to waste.”
I followed him into the bathroom, my mouth dropping open as I took in the multiple shower heads.
