The Lady Has a Past (Burning Cove #5) - Amanda Quick Page 0,38

irritated. “Call the front desk and get the right room number.”

“Excellent idea,” Lyra said, edging away. “We’ll do that. Again, we do apologize.”

The woman muttered something in response and closed the door. Simon heard the key turn very firmly in the lock.

Without a word, he and Lyra went several steps down the hall.

“Good story,” he said softly when he was sure they were out of earshot of the woman in three twelve. “Better than mine.”

“Thanks.”

“Also, you managed to avoid giving her our names. Very professional.”

“Do you think so?”

“As a rule, it’s always better not to give out any more information than absolutely necessary. Less stuff to remember that way.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They went down to the second floor and began what turned out to be a very long hike through the quiet east wing of the hotel.

“If Raina is in two twenty-one she’s going to be furious when she finds out we followed her,” Lyra warned.

“Don’t start having second thoughts now. We’re here because you and Luther Pell are convinced Miss Kirk is in trouble, remember?”

Lyra straightened her shoulders. “Right. You agreed with us, as I recall.”

“I did. Relax. If Miss Kirk is angry about our presence here at the hotel, we will tell her Luther Pell sent us to make sure she’s all right. She won’t blame us. I understand she’s been seeing Pell exclusively for a while now. If that’s true then she must know that very few people say no to Pell.”

Lyra looked more cheerful. “True.”

Room two twenty-one proved to be the very last one in the hallway. It was a short distance from the service stairs and the fire escape.

“The name of the guest who checked into this room is Miss Granville,” Simon said.

“If this is Raina’s room, she certainly took the least convenient suite in the hotel,” Lyra said. “I’m sure she travels first-class. A room next to the service stairs is hardly her style.”

“It was a good choice if she wanted privacy,” Simon pointed out. He glanced back down the hallway. “The neighboring rooms are empty.”

“How do you know that?”

“I checked the keys hanging behind the desk. The one to this room was gone but the keys for the neighboring rooms were still on the hooks.”

“You’re right,” Lyra said. “She must have wanted privacy. Otherwise I’m sure she would have objected to being stuck at the end of the hall.”

“Maybe the person she came here to meet is the one who doesn’t want to be seen coming and going from Miss Kirk’s room,” Simon said. “They could both be using the service stairs to meet privately.”

“You know, I’m learning a lot from you. I should probably start taking notes.”

He told himself it was a good thing she considered him useful—it was a step up from his previous status as an object of her insatiable curiosity. Nevertheless, he was irritated.

“Instructors get paid,” he said. “Remind me to bill you when we’re finished.”

“I’ll do that.”

They stopped in front of two twenty-one. Lyra rapped sharply.

There was no response.

She knocked again. Louder this time.

When no one came to the door she looked at Simon.

“Now what?” she asked.

He heightened his senses and raised his hand to knock.

The scars burned.

Slowly he lowered his hand and gingerly touched the doorknob. The jolt of hot energy made him grimace.

Lyra had gone still beside him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said, keeping his voice low. “But something violent happened in this room.”

She did not question the observation or accuse him of imagining things. She took his words as a statement of fact.

“We’ve got to get inside,” she whispered.

He tried the doorknob. It was locked. He reached into his pocket, took out the small lockpick, and went to work.

“You may want to look the other way,” he said. “Because this is illegal as hell.”

“Where can I buy one of those things?”

“Any hardware store or locksmith will sell you one. The trick is learning how to use it without getting arrested.”

“How did you learn?”

“Practice, practice, practice.”

The lock gave way. He pushed the door inward. The lamps were off inside the room but the drapes were open. A wide shaft of moonlight angled across the floor. The bed was empty, still made up.

Simon moved into the room, crossed to the window, and pulled the drapes tightly shut. He switched on a floor lamp. Lyra followed him and closed the door.

Together they surveyed the empty room.

“Housekeeping turns down the beds every night,” Lyra said. “But no one has been in here to prepare the room this