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“Family research.” With a tight-lipped smile, he stepped toward the exit.
“Research?” Her posture shrieking, I don’t think so, she planted her legs wide and grabbed his arm, blocking his exit.
As her manicured talons dug into his flannel shirt, his back stiffened.
“Your Aunt Rosie is the family historian.” Her grip loosening, her fingers slid down his arm and interlaced with his. “Why not ask her instead of sneaking around hotel rooms?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Shrugging her off, he stepped around her. Great. His shoulders tensed as her gaze burned into his back. Now the rumors will fly.
“Have a good night’s rest?” The night clerk’s sly grin suggested more.
Luke swept by with a noncommittal grunt, caught in the man’s trap no matter how he answered.
“They plowed this morning.” The clerk raised his voice, calling after him. “Bea made it through the roads okay…”
Luke pictured her wheedling the details from the man, then twisting the facts.
****
The door slammed like a detonated bomb.
IED strike! Snatching my knife from beneath the pillow, I vaulted from bed and scanned the area for terrorists. Oh, yeah. As I got my bearings, I gulped air. This is Texas, not Afghanistan. Adapting to civilian life may take longer than I thought.
Then the night’s details slammed through my mind. Luke! Where…? Glancing from his empty bed to the note, I caught myself smiling in the mirror. What am I grinning about?
I analyzed my reflection. Meeting Luke yesterday…seeing him again today…and exploring one of Grandma’s “fairytales.” What’s not to smile about?
I studied the knife in my hands—a precaution against sharing a room with a stranger. Glad I didn’t need this. Then, eyeing the clock, I hopped in the shower.
Steam hung thick in the bathroom as the water vapor fogged the air.
Suddenly, a child’s laughter penetrated the haze.
“Who’s there?” I peeked from behind the shower curtain into the billowing steam.
Another high-pitched giggle—like a little girl muffling her laughter—invaded my privacy.
“Hello?” My skin crawling, I turned off the water, but only a hollow drip, drip, drip echoed in the drain.
“Anyone there?” I reached for a towel and stepped from the shower into the steamy room. A smiley face materialized on the mirror as condensation dripped from it like transparent blood.
The hinges squeaked as the bathroom door cracked open.
“Luke?” He doesn’t have a key. “Hello…?” I kicked open the door and burst into the bedroom.
Silence.
Unnerved, I scoured the room, testing the locked door and windows. Then crouching, I checked beneath the beds.
Nothing moved or seemed out of place.
“Who’s there?”
****
He pulled into the same parking spot he had left an hour earlier and texted Maeve as he entered the hotel.
Luke—I’m in the lobby—
