In the night room Page 0,77

four of her pancakes and all of her bacon, and following that with the two pancakes Tim still had left on his plate.

“They were wondering, do you see, if I might have checked in a woman who robbed a bank in New Jersey. They showed me a picture, but I don’t think it really looked like Mrs. Halleden, and I certainly don’t think that Mrs. Halleden ever robbed a bank in New Jersey!”

“I don’t think she did, either,” Willy said. “Will they be coming back?”

“Not until lunchtime. Our police officers have a distinct taste for our sauerbraten and Wiener schniztel.”

“We’ll be checking out in a couple of minutes,” Tim said. “And thank you, Mr. Davy.”

Willy excused herself and stood up. While Tim calculated a tip, the total to be added to his hotel bill, he noticed that his host was closely watching “Mrs. Halleden” on her way to the restroom. In his admiration, he had forgotten that Tim was present. While Tim watched Mr. Davy watching Willy, the little man registered some sort of quick, fleeting shock: his body clenched, and he thrust his head forward. Tim glanced past him at Willy, who was disappearing around the door to the ladies’ room.

Suddenly realizing that he had been observed, Mr. Davy twitched around to face Tim. A faint blush, a faint smile enlivened his cherubic face.

“What?” Tim asked.

“Mrs. Halleden is a striking presence. If I may, sir.”

Tim gestured for him to go on.

“If I might say this without being impertinent, sir, the lady is somehow more beautiful than one takes in at first glance. And I believe she looks younger than when the two of you arrived last night.”

“There’s more. There’s something you’re not saying. What startled you?”

Mr. Davy looked at him sharply. “Startled me, Mr. Halleden?”

“Something made you do a double take. I’m curious about what it was.”

“It was just a mistake, a trick of the eye,” Mr. Davy said. “I’ll be at the desk, sir, should you wish your bags taken down.” He whirled around and was gone.

Tim examined Willy for signs of youthfulness as, evidently considering something she found troubling, she wove her way back to the table. She had always seemed essentially young to him, but he wondered if she did in fact seem a bit younger than she had the day before.

Abruptly, she said, “I have that ‘light’ feeling again. I don’t mean hunger. That’s emptiness. This is lightness. It’s like a buzz or a hum going through my whole body. It’s like a thousand hummingbird wings, all beating at once.”

Upstairs, Tim called the Pforzheimer in Millhaven and was assured that he could secure a junior suite for as long as he liked through the end of September. He was a valued customer, and they would treat him right. Then he called Maggie Lah and asked her to FedEx some of his shirts, pants, jackets, and socks to the hotel.

When he put down the phone, Willy said, “Let me pay for our hotels, okay? I won’t feel like such a parasite.”

When he protested, Willy said, “You shouldn’t have to pay for me, I should be paying for you! We could probably live off this money for a couple of years. Let me show it to you.”

As Willy dragged the long, white gym bag toward the bed, the telephone rang. Tim picked up the receiver and heard Mr. Davy say, “Mr. Halleden, please take a look out of your window. It appears that someone is extremely interested in your car.”

“Willy, take a look at the parking lot, will you?” He thanked Mr. Davy and watched her go to the window.

“De nada,” Mr. Davy said. “Tell me if you or Mrs. Halleden recognize the gentleman. He’s too elegant to be a police officer.”

“Shit,” Willy said. “It’s Coverley. How did he ever find us here?”

Tim moved to the window and looked over Willy’s shoulder. A tall, slender man in a sweater the blue of a gas flame and pale gray trousers was walking back and forth beside Tim’s black Town Car. He had long, well-combed blond hair and the face of a bored priest, and he was stroking his chin as he peered through the windows. The man straightened up and looked around the lot, then checked his watch.

“He’s waiting for Roman Richard,” Willy said. “That soulless murdering prick.”

“Mrs. Halleden does not harbor friendly feelings toward the gentleman,” said Mr. Davy.

“No,” Tim said.

“Would he have any connection to the gray Mercedes sedan parked in front of the hotel?”

“What are