I crack open the door to the hotel room. The hallway is empty. Quiet. I slip into the hall and look at the other two rooms. 201 and 202. This motel isn’t much bigger than my house.
I try room 201 first. There’s a “DO NOT DISTURB” sign hanging from the doorknob, but I ignore it as I rap my fist gently against the door. No answer. Then I knock again. Harder.
Nothing.
Then I try the doorknob. Locked.
I feel this crawling sensation on the back of my neck. I whirl around, just in time to catch somebody staring at me from room 202. A watery blue eye. Some silver hair.
Having been caught, I panic and scurry back into room 203. I close the door behind me and throw the deadbolt into place.
My mind is racing. Room 201 is obviously empty. Room 202 has a guest in it, so Quinn could never have been staying there. That means I should get back on the road.
I’ll just wait a bit longer. To give myself more space between me and the police.
I figure I’ll watch some TV, but I don’t see the remote control anywhere. My eyes fall on the dresser next to the bed. Maybe the remote control is in the drawer. But I open it up and all I see in there is a copy of the Bible. Then as the drawer shifts, I see a spark of something shiny from underneath the Bible.
I push the Bible aside and that’s when I see it. A wedding band.
My hands are trembling as I pull a gold wedding band out from the drawer. It looks like the one that my sister wore for the last two years. But there’s only one way to be sure.
I tilt the band to the side and look on the inside. Wrapped around the inside of the band, I see the engraved letters: DEREK + QUINN.
Quinn was here. In this very room.
I lift my eyes, which make contact with the window. There’s a house overlooking the motel. A rickety old two-story house. And there’s a light on in one of the second-story windows. I can make out a silhouette of a woman sitting in front of the window.
Watching.
I shiver and almost drop the wedding band. The sight of this woman staring out the window has unnerved me. I look down at the wedding band in my hand. I need to get the hell out of here.
No. Not yet.
And then I hear a single knock at the door.
Chapter 24
The sound of the knock makes me nearly jump out of my skin. I just stand there for a moment, unsure what to do. I don’t really want to open the door right now.
But maybe it’s Nick with my dinner. I should check.
My phone buzzes on top of my bed. I glance over at the screen. It’s the police station again. I let it go to voicemail.
After another moment of hesitation, I pull the door open. I almost gasp with relief when I see there’s no one there. I look down—a plate containing a sandwich is lying on the ground. The sandwich has been hastily assembled—the top slice of bread is barely on top of the sandwich. I pick up the plate and examine my dinner. It is a turkey sandwich, nothing more and nothing less. No mayonnaise, no lettuce, no tomatoes. Just dry turkey and bread.
But it’s free. Beggars can’t be choosers.
Then again, I wonder if it’s safe to eat. This guy who owns the motel, Nick Baxter, may very well be a cold-blooded killer. And it’s clear he doesn’t think much of me. Maybe I shouldn’t be eating anything he gave to me.
I raise my eyes, and that’s when I notice the door to room 202 has cracked open again. It’s open just enough that both watery blue eyes stare out at me. She startled me before, but now I’m ready for her.
“Can I help you?” I say.
The door swings open further. Now I can see that the blue eyes belong to an elderly woman. She has long white hair and a deeply creased face. When she speaks, her voice is like sandpaper. “You are feistier than the other one.”
I suck in a breath. This woman saw my sister here. Maybe they even talked. I drop the plate on a dresser inside my room and step into the hallway. “What other one?”
Her ancient lips curl into a smile.
“What other one?” I say, louder this time.
And then she slams the door in my face.
Great.
I want to say to hell with her and get out of here, but I can’t do that. Quinn was here. I have a feeling Quinn spoke with this woman, and maybe this woman knows something. I’ve got to talk to her and figure out what she knows. Then I can leave.
I grab my purse and step across the hallway. I knock firmly on the woman’s door. There’s only silence on the other side. So I knock again.
“Excuse me?” I say. “I’d like to speak to you.”
Silence.
“Please.” I bring my face closer to the door. “Listen, the truth is… I’m looking for my sister. I think she was here. Can you help me?”