so. I studied him through this procedure.
“You’re wasting your time with me, Mr. Seaver. I had nothing to do with that girl’s death.”
He cocked his head. “Say it again.”
“Say what?”
“The last part.”
“You mean the part where I assure you I’m not a murderer?”
His gaze moved deliberately across my face, focusing on my mouth, then returning to my eyes. There was appraisal in it, but no emotion.
“Well?” I prodded.
He nodded. “I believe you.”
“You do? Now why is that?”
“Because you’re telling the truth.”
One hand rested on his thigh, but the other toyed with the green Pellegrino bottle, a restless gesture completely at odds with the smooth blandness of his expression. Why did I feel strangely opened before him, as if I didn’t have a single secret anymore?
Something wasn’t right. Why was this man shadowing me like I’d just debuted on America’s Most Wanted? Eric had said the hotel had good security, but this was ridiculous.
I took another sip of mojito. “Must be a relief to know I’m not a killer.”
“It is.”
“I mean, it must be annoying to have some random woman show up at your hotel, RiteAid bag under her arm, her picture all over the news. Stuff like that probably makes your job really stressful.”
“Not stressful. Just complicated.”
I chewed on a spring of mint. “So as long as I stay here, you have to stay here, right?”
“Right.”
“Even if I’m just sucking down rum and hitting on the bartender?”
“Even then.”
This man was giving me nothing to work with. In some other bar, on some other evening, I might have tried flirting him into submission. He was a fine-looking creature, even if he never smiled, and I was pretty sure the suit disguised a first-class physique. But I had other plans, and tempting though he might be, Mr. Seaver wasn’t in them.
I finished off the mojito. “So I should just go to my room then? Get out of your hair so you can get on with your other important duties?”
“That would be helpful, yes.”
“You’re going to follow me up there, aren’t you?”
I expected him to smile at that, but he didn’t. Instead, his mouth curved just the slightest, a quirky pull to the left.
“Of course,” he replied.
***
I lost my key on the way up. I was legendary with keys, leaving them in restaurants, in taxis, finding them weeks later in my sock drawer or the glove compartment. He watched patiently as I searched my wallet, patted down my pockets. I finally found it in my tote bag and slid it through the slot. To my relief, the light flashed green, and he held the door open for me.
I saw my Rite Aid bag waiting for me at the foot of the king size bed along with a white cotton bathrobe and a tea tray. Through the window beyond, the Midtown skyline skipped and jutted across the dark horizon like an incandescent EKG.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been obnoxious,” I told him. “But first, there’s this dead girl, and then my brother vanishes, and nobody will tell me crap, especially not the police.”
As I talked, I heard the soft purr of his cell phone. His gaze dipped to examine the readout, and a tiny wrinkle appeared right between his eyes.
“And I’m tired, and stressed out of my mind, and I want a cigarette so bad I might steal one, if I could find one. I mean—”
“I have to go now.” He slipped the phone in his jacket pocket. “If you have any problems, call the front desk. They’ll find me.”
He was less than two feet from me, and he smelled good, a hint of crisp aftershave mingled with warm maleness and soap. I noticed a scar on his chin, caught the pattern of other scars, webbed and barely visible, at his right temple. This was a man with history.
“Mr. Seaver?”
“Yes?”
“I never got your first name.”
“Oh. It’s Trey.”
I smiled up at him. “Goodnight, Trey. Thanks for the escort.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Randolph. Please enjoy your stay.”
Then he was down the hall and in the elevator. I watched the doors close after him. Enjoy your stay, he’d said. As in stay put. As in Eric’s last remark. As in be a good girl and let the menfolk take care of this.
Phooey. I grabbed a bag of M&s from the mini-bar, plus some peanuts for later. I stuck my head into the hall—empty. Then, after making sure my key card was in my jeans pocket, I headed back to the lobby.
Taking the stairs, of course. Also keeping to the