“You’re leaving me here?” she cried.
“You can use the time to snoop through their devices and figure out where they’re keeping Javi. I’ll only be gone a few hours.” Vero flungherself in front of the door, blocking my exit. “Would you rather I stay here and you can deal with Steven, the children, and my mother?” Vero hesitated as she considered that. “You can order room service,” I pointed out. “Anything you want.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Anything?”
“Anything. Just remember to feed Kevin, too. And don’t let anybody in.”
I listened for the snap of the dead bolt behind me before darting down the stairwell at the end of the hall. My clothes were rolled into a ball under my arm, and I ducked into an empty bathroom in the casino to change before heading back to the Royal Flush.
It was still dark outside when I finally crept into my mother’s room just after fiveA.M. Her eye mask was firmly in place, her earplugs just visible between the sleep-matted strands of her hair. She hardly stirred when I stubbed my toe on my suitcase, swore viciously, and climbed into the bed beside hers, still wearing my clothes. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing as I listened to her snore. Marco and Louis were dead, and the Aston was gone, both of which should have solved two of our more pressing problems. Instead, these two developments only managed to introduce more frightening ones.
And we still had no idea where to find Javi.
All Vero and I could do was stall the discovery of the bodies until we could piece together a viable alibi while we continued to search for him. Easy, right? We would just have to convince everyone we’d been here at the Royal Flush, having a good time. I rubbed my temples, trying to picture that scene in a book.
Just a relaxing girls’ weekend away. In a crappy casino hotel. In Atlantic City. With two small children, my mother, my ex-husband, and two dead guys. I threw an arm over my eyes, trying not to think about how unbelievably ridiculous that all sounded as I drifted toward sleep.
I awoke with a start when a hand grabbed my wrist. I gasped, disoriented and groggy, unsure how long I’d been sleeping as I was dragged out of bed. Steven didn’t say a word as I tried to shake him off. I hissed out protests as he pulled me through the open door between our rooms. He walked me briskly past the bed where our children were sleeping, their faces barely visible in the dim dawn light seeping through the crack between the drapes. He towed me around their scattered toys and out the other door, until we were standing in the garish lighting of the hall.
He glared down at me, fully dressed in the same pair of jeans and flannel shirt he’d been wearing when I last saw him yesterday. “Where the hell have you been?”
I jerked my hand from his. “Vero and I were downstairs in the bar.”
“No, you weren’t. I was down there for the last four hours, and I didn’t see you or your little criminal friend anywhere.”
“It’s a big hotel, Steven! We met up with one of Vero’s friends. He invited us out to a restaurant and we stopped at a few casinos after that.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. “And stop calling her that. She’s no more a criminal than you are.” I held his gaze, daring him to come clean.
“Where’s Miss Sticky Fingers now?”
“With her friend. She’s spending the night at his hotel.”
His grin was derisive. “Some babysitter.”
“Not all of us can be as good at it as you are.”
He choked out a laugh. “We’re back to that? You really want to do this now?”
“You’re the one who was in the casino for four hours while you were supposed to be watching our children.”
“Your mom was asleep in the next room,” he argued. “I left the door between our rooms open all night. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Like it wasn’t a big deal when you dumped them on her while I was at the police academy? You haven’t changed at all, Steven. You know what? You’re right. I don’t want to do this right now. I’m going to bed.” I turned toward my own door before I realized I didn’t have my key. Ipivoted back to Steven, palm out for his. His snide grin collapsed as he reached for his pocket. I closed my eyes, certain this night could not get any worse. “Don’t tell me we’re locked out.”
“We’re locked out,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “Go knock on your mother’s door.”
“She sleeps with earplugs.”
“Earplugs?”
“She’s been sleeping with my father for forty years. The man snores like a John Deere. If I knock, we’ll only wake Delia and Zach, and once they’re up, we’ll never get them back to sleep.”
I leaned back against the wall between our rooms, sliding down it until I was sitting on the carpet. It was tacky and smelled like cigarettes and despair. Head tipped against the peeling wallpaper, I closed my eyes, surrendering to my fate. My brief snooze in the car yesterday and the nap Steven had just awoken me from, for now, would have to do. The kids would be awake in an hour or two anyway. Better to sacrifice a comfortable bed than face the wrath of an overtired toddler.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep.”
“Out here?”
