High in Trial - By Donna Ball Page 0,29

hurt. I identified myself and said, “Some man just called here saying he was the night manager and that I needed to come to the front desk to straighten out a problem with my credit card. I think he was trying to lure me from my room.”

I heard computer keys clacking in the background. “Please remain in your room,” she replied quickly, either reading from a protocol manual or very well trained. “There is no problem with your credit card, Miss Stockton. Do you feel you are in any danger now?”

“No, but you have a lot of women traveling alone who are staying here this weekend. If there’s some kind of weirdo playing pranks…”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll send a security guard to your room right away.”

“No, don’t do that,” I groaned. “I don’t want to talk to a security guard. It’s almost midnight. All I want is to go back to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand. We’ll take care of the problem.”

“But don’t send anyone to my room. And don’t call here, either. I’m sleeping.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m terribly sorry you were disturbed.”

“It’s okay. Just… good night.”

I hung up and turned off the light, sinking back against the pillows. Eventually I heard Cisco circle his bed a few times and plop down with a sigh. But I lay awake for a long time, staring at the dark and listening to the faraway barking of a dog.

~*~

SATURDAY

~*~

TEN

Nine hours before the shooting

I awoke abruptly hours later, my heart pounding, aware that something had jarred me back to consciousness but having no idea what. The clock said 5:03. I lay very still, listening, and then I heard it again: the low, fierce rumble of Cisco’s growl.

I sat up, and Cisco stood, stiff-legged, watching something intently on the other side of the room. I followed his gaze and my heart slammed against my chest. The silhouette of a man was clearly formed on the white drapery that covered my sliding glass door, backlit by the lights of the courtyard. Had I locked that door after letting Cisco out for the last time? Had I heard it click? I had, hadn’t I? I couldn’t remember.

Cisco’s growl grew louder, and I heard fumbling at the door. Was that the click of the latch?

I whispered, “Cisco, here!”

He didn’t need a second invitation. Cisco bounded onto the bed and I caught his collar, dragging him with me as I tumbled over the side of the bed and onto the floor, putting the bed between myself and the door just as it began to slide open. In the same motion, I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, jerking the plug out of the wall. It was clumsy and unwieldy, but it had a heavy metal base and it was the best I could do.

I crouched down behind the bed with one arm around Cisco and the other hand gripping the lamp, trying not to breathe, straining to hear over the pounding of my heart the sound of the footsteps that moved stealthily toward me. Frantically I tried to remember where I’d put my phone before I went to bed. In the drawer? On the night table on the other side of the bed? In my purse? Was there any chance of reaching it before—

With absolutely no warning at all, Cisco suddenly bounded away from me, scrambling around the side of the bed toward the shadowy figure that approached. I cried out and lunged after him, swinging the lamp blindly. The intruder caught my arm in a grip of steel and the lamp crashed against the wall.

“For God’s sake, Raine!”

I fell back, gasping, and Cisco flung himself in happy welcome upon the newcomer. Miles turned on the light. I blinked and squinted and for a moment didn’t trust myself to speak. When I did, my voice sounded angry and hoarse.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

He frowned a little. “I paid for the room, remember?”

I remembered, a little irrelevantly, that, in fact, he had insisted on upgrading to a mini suite when he arrived, and this room wasn’t even on my credit card. That seemed important somehow, but I was too upset at the moment to follow it through.

“You’re also paying for a lamp,” I told him shortly, picking up the dented lamp and setting it a little unsteadily on the table by the door. “What are you doing sneaking in here at this time of night anyway? Why didn’t you use the front door?”

He gave Cisco’s ears a final rub, and