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“You really want to know?”
Ben shook his head. “Nope.” He handed over the twenty-dollar bill to Keaton. “I’m looking for the new room number for Henry Bard. He’s got two rooms booked.”
“Got it,” Keaton said. “You stay here. I’ll do recon. If I’m not back in ten minutes, assume I’ve been captured. Save yourself.”
Keaton started across the hotel lobby. He seemed to be walking as if the theme music to Mission Impossible played in the background. Ben rolled his eyes. Maybe if he tackled the guy he could get his twenty back.
The clerk didn’t pay any attention to Keaton’s antics. The bellhop got behind the desk and said something to the clerk. One minute later he was Mission Impossible-ing his way back to Ben.
“Room 515,” Keaton said. “Booked it today.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. He booked right after I gave him the box.”
“Box? What box?”
“His lady had some box delivered to her. A box of books and crazy stuff.”
“Crazy stuff?” Ben’s heart raced. Maybe he’d finally discovered something useful.
“Crazy. Stuff. Lady stuff. Crazy lady stuff. Crazy lady you stick up the butt stuff, if you know what I mean.”
“I have no idea what you mean and I don’t want to know what you mean,” Ben said. “But the box was addressed to Claudia Spears?”
“It was. Saw it with my own eyes.”
“Thanks. Seriously.” Ben slapped him on the arm and ran to the elevators. He had no idea what “crazy lady you stick up the butt stuff” was, but a mysterious box was at least some sort of motive for Henry’s weird behavior.
Ben arrived at room 515 and banged on the door.
No answer.
He banged harder.
No answer.
He kicked the door.
Still no answer except for the woman in the room next door sticking her head out into the hall and glaring at him.
“Sorry,” Ben whispered. “The guy in this room ran away from his wedding.”
“Oh,” the lady said. “Then break that damn door down if you have to.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He kicked and banged and finally the door flew open and Ben found Henry standing before him looking more heartbroken, downtrodden and miserable than he’d ever seen him.
“Henry, what the hell—”
“She wants to fuck me up the butt, Ben.” Henry stepped forward and wrapped Ben in a hug. “Hold me.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Ben said, grabbing Henry by the shoulders and force-marching him into the room. “What are you thinking? Are you thinking? At all? Is anything going on in there?” he asked, knocking on Henry’s head.
“I’ve been doing nothing but thinking,” Henry said as he grabbed a box off the table. “Look. Claudia said she ordered stuff for our honeymoon. It came. This is what was in the box.”
Henry turned the box over and let everything fall out onto the bed. Ben picked up the first book. It was a guide to couples in the swingers/wife-swapping lifestyle. Another book said it would help women find compatible sexual partners outside their marriage especially if the husband was bad in bed or impotent. Ben raised his eyebrow at Henry.
