“How did he get onto our floor?” Basia asked.
“Apparently, using a key that the staff at the front desk gave him. It sounds like Richard, the bald guy, used a woman to approach the front desk, claiming to be one of us. She told the desk clerk she misplaced her key card. So, they gave her one, and she apparently gave it to Bald Guy. The woman was still in the hotel playing the slots and confirmed it when confronted. She had no idea what he wanted with the key and was only interested in the money he offered her—a hundred bucks. Security escorted her out of the building and told her never to come back or they would press charges.”
“That still doesn’t explain how he knew which floor we were on,” I noted.
“They couldn’t explain that, either, but they suspected we may have been followed and targeted from somewhere else. Four women staying in the penthouse suite implies money and perhaps vulnerability. They believe he was intending to rob us.”
“So, they don’t know anything about the dog?” Basia wondered.
“Not that I could tell,” responded Gwen. “He didn’t mention it, anyway. They have circulated pictures of him from the video to their entire security team and the front desk. They’ve assured me he’ll be dealt with appropriately if he dares to shows his face here again.”
There was an ominous silence before Gray broke it. “Well, that sounds like a job for Tony and his shovel to me.”
We all broke into laughter, releasing some of the tension that had built up.
“Casino security is pretty much the gold standard, so I doubt he’ll try again, but if he is as determined as he appears, he may have someone else watching for us, so we need to be very careful whenever we leave,” Gray said, looking at the dog.
“Agreed,” I said. “But let’s tackle one problem at a time.” I exhaled deeply. “Okay, Ginger, we want to help you, but we need to know what you’re trying to tell us. Can you spell it out for us?” It felt surreal to be asking a dog to spell, but that’s where these crazy events had taken us.
Ginger sniffed at the napkins and then walked around as if familiarizing herself with the layout. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I felt dizzy. I let out an exhale just as she stopped in front of the napkin with the letter H and put her paw on it. It was deliberate, and Ginger did not hesitate. Chills ran up my spine.
“H,” we all called out in unison.
The silence in the room was deafening as Ginger went to the napkin with the U, then the R, then the T.
“Hurt,” Basia gasped. “Oh my God, she spelled out hurt.”
However, Ginger still had more to do. She padded over to the letter M and then the E. She paused and looked directly at me. It hit me like a punch to the gut.
Ginger had just spelled out hurt me.
Chapter Fourteen
Lexi
We all started talking at once, so I had to whistle to calm everyone down so we could work through this logically. Ginger started bouncing around, running up to everyone, wagging her tail.
“Guys, we have to think this through,” I said when everyone fell silent. I called Ginger over to me and looked her squarely in the eyes. “Ginger, bark for no and sit down for yes. Are they hurting you at the lab?”
Ginger promptly sat and the room went utterly still. I felt a wave of surreal disbelief sweep over me. I was freaking talking to a dog, and it was nothing short of monumental.
Basia clapped a hand over her mouth. “OMG! Poor Ginger. They’re hurting her.”
Gwen stared, eyes wide. “Did…did Ginger really just talk to us?”
“That’s not possible,” Gray said, putting her hands on her head, but her voice had lost conviction. “It’s not. She’s a dog. This isn’t biologically possible.”
“Gray,” I said softly. “She just spelled out ‘hurt me’ without a single mistake. I don’t think that’s coincidence.”
Ginger’s tail thumped once, her eyes now fixed on Gray as if pleading with her to believe. The problem was that even though I’d just witnessed Ginger spelling words, I kind of agreed with Gray. My brain, which usually loved puzzles and challenges, was fighting not to enter blue-screen-of-death disbelief over this mind-blowing development.
Gray swallowed hard. “Lexi, this must be some kind of government lab–level weirdness. Sure, the CIA has done weird experiments on animals for spying purposes in the past, but that was then and this is now. I don’t think it’s CIA-sanctioned.”
“Don’t say ‘government or CIA,’” I said. “That’s when things go from weird to classified.”
Basia stood, clenching her fists by her side. “I don’t care what’s classified or biologically possible. If someone is hurting Ginger, we need to get her help.” That mother bear instinct was coming out in full force, and I was here for it.
Gwen nodded vigorously. “I agree a hundred percent. She might have internal injuries we can’t see. I vote we go to that twenty-four-hour emergency vet that’s not too far from us. Right now. We need to know Ginger is okay.”
