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“I mean, what you did was totally badass. But definitely a tad… reckless. You go skinny dippingonetime—”
“I don’t know what got into me,” I say hysterically. “I just…”
“I know. You can’t help yourself when it comes to answers.”
A few tears roll down my cheeks. “So stupid.”
“Hey! You arenotstupid. I can only imagine how triggering it must have been to see Santi.”
I let out a heavy sigh, trying to remain calm as I sift through the panic. “I’ve never seen cameras there before.” But my argument is weak. I’ve never looked for cameras.How could I not think about cameras?
“There are cameras everywhere these days. I mean, they’d have to be watching, but—”
“Well, it’s too late, Char. What’s done is done.” What other choice do I have but to move forward? I’m already in too deep.
“Do you want me to come over? We can—”
“I’m going to the hotel!”
“Are you crazy?” Char yells. If she’s the level-headed one here, it’s a clear sign I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. But now’s not the time to find it.
“I’mthisclose, Char! I’m not going to let my break-in go to waste.”
“Well, you’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”
The Uber pulls up to the curb. “Fine, I’ll text you the address.”
Fifteen minutes later, I practically jump out of the Uber when we reach the hotel that was listed on the invoice. I start to anxiously pace the sidewalk after a quick glance around the lot confirms Char hasn’t arrived.
I didn’t expect the hotel to be in a run-down part of Azalea Pines. The paint is chipping, the concrete wall is littered with cracks, and the roofing is in obvious need of replacement. My nerves skyrocket, and I mentally berate myself for not eventhinkingabout cameras in the office.
Should I call this off? Is going into this hotel room a bad idea? And what about the key card? How am I supposed to get it back into his office? This entire plan is sounding stupider and stupider the more I wait.
Being a badass is great. Revel in it, Kate.
Lorenzo’s words strike out of nowhere, propelling me into motion. I text Char the room number and tell her to meet me up there, then stuff the phone into my pocket and take the stairs two at a time. When I reach the third floor, I check the placard on the wall and follow the arrow to the room at the end of the hall.
With trembling fingers, I slide the key into the door. A green light flashes, and I tug on the handle, hesitating. What if someone’s in here?
When nothing but silence greets me, I step through the threshold. It’s a standard room with two double beds. I doubt this hotel has any suites or the like. If the musty smell that permeates the entire building is any indication, this is a shit hole.
I locate the light switch on a wall in the narrow hallway and flip it on. Next to the switch is what has to be the bathroom door, which I confirm by opening it. When I get to the main part of the room just two steps further, I glance around.
Why in the world would they have a hotel room?
I start opening all the drawers, checking behind fixtures, looking under the bed, but there’s nothing. Everything points to this being an ordinary room.
I’m about to plop myself on the bed but I think twice, not wanting to leave any evidence of my entry. I stare at the blank wall where a nicer hotel would probably have a sliding glass door for a balcony.
At least the walls are freshly painted.
Part of me wants to give up and leave, accepting that this was a dead end. But the stubborn, inquisitive side of me—the one that Lorenzo always seemed so annoyed by—wants to keep searching. Problem is, this is a tiny room and I’ve pretty much torn it apart without actually disheveling anything.
As much as I don’t want to, I have no choice but to leave. And now, with this letdown, I’m hyper aware of the fact that I’ll have to risk myself again to get this hotel key back into the safe in Marco’s office.
My fingers graze the dresser, lost in thought, when I figure I should check behind it. The narrow space between the dresser and corner wall is tight, making it so I really have to squeeze in. Dropping to my knees, I check the floor behind it.
Just when I’m about to stand up, I hear the click of the door. I push off my hands but before I can turn around, a hand flies over my mouth.
