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Looking around frantically, she saw several surprised tourists and business people staring back at her. But she couldn't see her dad there.
Had he had a phone call or some urgent business to sort out? She'd run back down the corridor and up the flight of stairs to his room.
There, she'd knocked on the door.
No answer. She'd taken out her phone and called him. No answer.
It was at that time she heard his phone from inside the room, trilling loudly in the silence.
Already, Juliette had suspected something was wrong, but the sound of that ringing phone had cemented it in her mind.
Something was very wrong. The fear that had settled in her stomach had been like no other.
And even so, she had never, ever expected to see the terrible sight that awaited her when the reception staff sent somebody up with an access card and opened that door. The blood that had soaked the bed. The wounds in her father’s neck and chest, that had cut and sliced the life out of him. The rust colored handprint on the wall that spoke of a desperate but futile struggle.
Juliette shook her head, letting out a deep breath, shaking the terrible memories away.
Wyatt glanced up from his phone apologetically. “Sorry about that,” he said. “There was a lot to update Suzy on.”
“It was no problem at all,” Juliette said, feeling glad to be able to immerse herself in the present again. Conversation with her partner was a comforting option compared to revisiting the ghosts of the past that had surfaced again, despite all her efforts to keep them at bay.
“You looked like you were thinking about something serious there," Wyatt said, more perceptive than she had expected.
"Yes. I guess I was just going over a few memories, in my mind," she told him.
"Yell if you want to share any of your thoughts," he said.
She didn't. It was time to lock them up tightly again.
"I’d rather not dwell on them for now, but thanks for the offer," she said.
"Any time," he said agreeably. "What do you feel like eating? I think I'm going to risk the burger. I'm distrustful about eating burgers outside of the States, but let's give it a whirl. I think I have my anti-diarrhea tablets in my bag."
Juliette had to suppress a laugh at that. Really, her partner couldn't be more all American. She was sure he'd be pleasantly surprised by the quality of French food, but less sure that he'd admit to that.
"I'll have the onion soup," Juliette said. French onion soup, rich and sumptuous, had always been one of her favorites, and this one came with bread and cheese. That would do perfectly for her.
They placed their orders, and then Wyatt’s phone beeped again.
“One last message,” he grinned, looking down and texting a quick reply before putting his phone down. “That’s it for tonight.”
"How long have you two been married?" Juliette asked.
"We met when I was discharged from the army. She was in the apartment next door to mine. That didn't last long," he remembered with a grin. "We got to talking one day, outside the front door, and within about three weeks, we were a couple. We moved in together a month later and it's all been happiness since then."
He beamed with pride as he spoke, and Juliette felt warmly glad on his behalf.
"You're a lucky man," she said.
"I am. I'm grateful for every day I have with Suzy," he said, and Juliette couldn't help but smile. It was nice to know that true love still existed in the world, even after all the darkness and violence she had seen. Even if it didn't exist in her world which, right now, she had to acknowledge was better that way.
She felt a sense of relief that of the two men she was working with, at least one was very happily married; the other was a man that she still strongly disliked, although the cat conversation had redeemed him slightly, and who had clearly loathed her on sight. At least that meant there would be no emotional complications, she thought wryly. It was always simpler that way.
They had enough on their plates, after all, with hunting down this killer.
*
The next morning, early, Juliette was yanked out of a deep sleep by an insistent trilling sound.
