The woman rushed off, casting furtive glances at the officer by the door. No doubt she’d seen plenty of cops while working here.
“Thanks, ma’am,” Lucky shouted at her retreating back and followed Bo into the room. Dingy carpet, sagging curtains, threadbare covers. Clean, but worn. Kinda like Lucky. Nothing in the closet. No suitcase or any personal effects in the bedroom. Clean coffee pot. Four wrapped coffee cups. Four packs of powdered creamer. Four packs of sugar. “He didn’t stay here.”
“What makes you say that?” Bo asked.
“Look at the bed. It hasn’t been slept in. The maid said she hasn’t been in here. I don’t care how neat a person is”—he gave Bo a meaningful glance— “there’d be something on the floor. Some kind of dirt, hair. Nothing in the trashcans.”
“He could’ve made up the room himself.” Bo’s casual manner suggested he wasn’t challenging Lucky’s opinion, he wanted Lucky’s thought processes.
Lucky pulled back the tacky orange and green bedspread. “Look at those sheets. Not a single wrinkle. He supposedly stayed five days, and didn’t sleep in the bed.” He stepped into the bathroom. Travel-size toothpaste, shampoo, and comb. None appeared used. No rumpled towels. No trash in the trash can there either. Nope, Landry hadn’t been here, but why rent this room and leave a gun? He might as well have left a calling card.
“What made anyone look in here?”
“Anonymous tip.” Bo’s scowl said he didn’t believe the reasoning any more than Lucky did. Anonymous tip, his ass.
Anyone with enough knowledge to thwart Chastain’s cameras and spy on the SNB would know how to clean up after themselves. This room was a definite setup. Same went for the tip. Who would do such a thing? Someone who wanted Lucky to believe Landry guilty.
He crossed the room and stared out the door.
“Sir?” A young woman approached from the office. “Are you Simon Harrison?”
“I am.” Today.
“Someone called and left a message for you. He said you’d know what it meant.” She handed him a slip of paper bearing the motel’s logo.
Lucky unfolded the scrap of paper.“One day you’re going to have to get this gate fixed. You do want your family safe, don’t you?”
Oh shit. Charlotte.
