Around them, a few of the other room doors opened and concerned faces peered out.
“Pardon the disturbance, friends. Everything’s fine,” the man said, giving a small wave.
“Fine?” Jules hissed. “A man was waiting in my room with a knife, because your sorry door lock didn’t keep him out!”
The man offered his hand to help Jules to her feet, and she brushed it aside as she clambered to her feet again. “Are you going to call the police or am I?”
The night manager’s gaze jerked toward her. “The police? No, no, no. We can’t do that.”
She blinked hard. “Excuse me?”
“Look, I’m already on notice with the boss. If he hears there was an incident on my watch that required the cops being called, I’ll be canned for sure.”
“And that’s my problem because…?”
He scowled. “Look, if you’ll let this go, no harm no foul, I’ll get a new lock on your door first thing in the morning when the hardware store opens. I promise.”
She continued to stare at him in dismay. “I had a man with a knife in my room.”
Although she said it to make a point to the manager, she heard the words she was saying, and a fresh wave of terror rolled through her.
Over the heavy thud of her heartbeat in her ears, she absently heard the manager still pleading his case. “I’ll comp your rent this week…no, the whole month. And get new pillows for the bed.”
Who had the man been? Had Chase Hamilton figured out who she was, what she was doing and where she was staying and come after her? If he’d learned where Abby was, who knew what else Chase had figured out. Yet…somehow that explanation didn’t feel right. Why the ski mask and—
Shut up…
The low pitch of those two words, snarled by the attacker, rolled through her head. They didn’t match Hamilton’s voice, one she’d long ago memorized, having listened numerous times to the voice mails he left on Abby’s phone.
“It’s not like there’s much the cops can do, anyway. That room’s full of fingerprints, and he was wearing a mask, so it’s not like you could identify him. Huh?” the manager continued. “Besides, he’s long gone now. Come on. I need this job, lady. Can we just let this little incident go this time?”
The man’s wheedling tone grated her nerves, but a couple things he said reverberated inside her.
Not much the cops can do…
Would any report she filed be dismissed as easily as had the complaints Abby filed against Chase Hamilton? She didn’t like to think Cal or—being within the city limits and in the city police’s jurisdiction—Wyatt would be as cavalier about dismissing the incident as those other law enforcement officers had been. But since Wyatt was a detective, working a special case with his task force, it was more likely a rank-and-file patrolman would respond if they called this in. Her gut turned as she remembered how little previous encounters with the police had netted her or Abby.
The night manager was sweating. “No one was hurt, so really—”
“Fine.” Jules pinched the bridge of her nose. “No police.”
The manager looked so relieved she thought he might cry.
She aimed her finger at the door. “But that better be fixed with a deadbolt by the end of the day tomorrow or the deal’s off.”
He raised a hand. “I swear it will.”
“And I want that free month’s rent and new pillows you offered.”
A gift shop salary didn’t go far and she had to pay Abby’s expenses after all.
The man’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “All right.”
As he noisily collected his scattered tools, something else the night manager had said replayed in her head.
He was wearing a mask… It’s not like you could identify him…
The second man who’d been in the gift shop five nights ago, the man Cal and his brother suspected had killed John Harper, had worn a red hoodie to hide his face. Had that second man realized she’d seen him and considered her a threat? Had the murderer discovered who she was and come to kill the only witness from the night of his crime?
