Deadly Row, A - By Casey Mayes Page 0,61

little rest. Thanks for calling me back.”

On an impulse, I asked him, “Uncle Thomas, do you want the money?”

He seemed shocked by the question. “Of course not. It’s not mine.”

“It doesn’t belong to me, either,” I said.

“According to your mother it does. You inherited everything she had when she and your father died, right?”

“Right.”

“Then that money, and any problem she had with it, is yours now.”

“Gee, thanks for the support,” I said with a laugh.

“If your worst problem today is figuring out what to do with ten grand, I wouldn’t mind trading with you. Good night.”

After we hung up, I called the front desk and was surprised to hear Garrett answer. “Don’t you ever go home?”

“Tonight I’ve been catching up on paperwork. How may I assist you?”

“I’ve got some cash I need you to keep for me in your safe.”

“I’ll send someone right up,” he said.

“I hate to ask, but could you come here yourself? It’s not that I don’t trust your employees, but if it’s not too much trouble, I’d rather deal directly with you.”

“Say no more. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

He was as good as his word, and within ninety seconds, there was a discreet tap at my door.

I asked him to identify himself, and after he did, I opened the door for him. “Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s my pleasure. You have some cash you wish to keep with us? There’s a safe in your suite, you know.”

I’d considered the idea, but then I’d rejected it. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust it. I would just feel better having it out of easy reach, in case I got tempted before I figured out what I was going to do with it.

“I’d rather you take it,” I said.

He nodded, and I handed him the stack. Garrett counted out the bills, wrote me a receipt, and then put the cash in an attaché he’d brought with him.

“You have access to this around the clock,” he said. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Not tonight.”

“Then I’ll bid you a good evening,” he said.

After he was gone, I felt better not having the cash with me. There was something about my mother’s note, and her reluctance to spend the money, that made me glad I didn’t have it in my hands.

I was going to have to tell Zach, though.

But not tonight.

He was still working, and I was so exhausted, I could barely keep my eyes open.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell Zach what I’d found. Knowing my husband, I was certain his instincts would help guide me, but ultimately, the decisions were mine to make.

I WOKE UP TO A NOISE IN THE OTHER ROOM. MY FIRST INstinct was that it was Zach, but the bed beside me was empty. I doubted it was the cleaning crew; they never came in unless they had my verbal approval.

I looked frantically around the room for some kind of weapon, but the closest thing I could find was a table lamp. I quietly unplugged it, pulled off the shade, and opened the bedroom door.

There was no one there, but then I heard someone moving around in the bathroom down the hall. It was a large suite, and Zach and I had just used the bathroom that was connected to the master bedroom.

I should have called the front desk—I realized that later—but at the moment, I was experiencing a surge in adrenaline. I crept up to the door, and then shouted, “I’ve called the police. Stay right where you are.”

Against my orders, the door opened, and I saw Zach peek out. I hadn’t even realized that I’d raised the lamp in the air and pulled it back, ready to strike.

“Thanks, but the light’s fine in here,” he said as he pointed to the lamp in my hands, still poised to strike. His hair was wet, and he was wearing one of the hotel’s luxury robes.

“You nit. Why didn’t you use the master bath?”

“I didn’t want to wake you, if you can believe that.” He gestured to the lamp, which was now on the table. “Did you really call the police?”

“No, I didn’t,” I admitted. “But I was going to.”

“Savannah, if you thought there was a prowler in here, you should have locked yourself in the bedroom and called the cops, or at least hotel security.”

“I panicked, okay?”

“Fine, but learn from it. If it happens again, don’t try to handle it yourself.”

“You would have,” I said a little petulantly. “I don’t always need a big, strong man