Page 22 of The Hotel Manager


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“Relax. I’m only trying to get a full picture of what happened.” He looks up from his notes, and I get the sense he’s sizing me up. Studying me. “Do you have a security system at home? An alarm, maybe?”

The idea makes me snort. “No. Nothing like that.” The words are barely out of my mouth before I wish I could take them back. He’s asking weird, personal questions. He wants to know about Jase. Where he can reach him.

What if he’s not a cop at all? What if he’s one of the bad guys? For all I know, the whole situation with Dave and Karl could have been an act. A way of making me feel secure before they strike.

He could be one of them. I could be standing out here with a very dangerous person. “I, uh, need to go back in before I get fired.”

He hesitates a heartbeat like he wants to keep me here but nods instead. “Fair enough. Thank you for speaking with me. And if I need anything else...” He starts backing away while I inch closer to the door leading inside.

“You know where to find me.” Obviously. I’m not sure how, but he found me here. He looks over his notes, and I don’t know what gives me the idea, but I pull out my phone and take a quick picture of him when he’s not looking. Then I practically flee inside and wonder when this will ever end.

I’m glad to spend the rest of my shift stocking shelves. I don’t have to interact with anybody and can go over my memories. I only assumed Griffin was a cop since he had that flashing light in his car. But now that I think about it, he never gave me any proof. And Jase was right. It’s strange that he never took me in for a statement, but I was so glad to be out of danger, I didn’t care.

I’m so deep in my thoughts that a sudden touch on my shoulder makes me jump a mile. I hold up a cereal box like that’s going to do anything to protect me.

“What, are you going to attack me with cornflakes?” Jase rolls his eyes while I try to catch my breath. “It’s just me.”

And he’s worried. His eyes keep shifting back and forth, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other while glancing over his shoulder, and his teeth keep digging into his bottom lip. If I hadn’t already spent the day wrestling with paranoia, I might assume he took an edible and is having a bad reaction.

Instead, dread clenches my insides before I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I think somebody’s following me. I can’t shake it.”

I wish I could tell him he’s imagining things the way I kept trying to tell myself before coming face-to-face with someone who could be very dangerous. “I’ve been feeling the same way. Have you seen anybody trailing you?”

His brows draw together over troubled eyes. “Not sure. Maybe, but it could’ve been a random person.”

“Is it this guy?” I pull out my phone, open the photo app, and hold it out for him to see.

His dark eyes widen and somehow have the power to make my heart stutter. “I’ve seen this guy before.”

Normally, I like being right. Not this time. “Has he been following you?”

“No.” What little color was left in his face drains as he lifts his gaze to me. “But he walked into the hotel just after you did that day.”

Somehow, I manage to slide the phone into my pocket before it falls from my shaking hand. I assumed he was one of the bad guys, but I didn’t consider he might be involved with the hotel. Why didn’t I think of that?

When is this ever going to end?

“He was asking questions,” I whisper, huddled close to him in the cereal aisle. I used to feel safe here—at least, I never felt like I was in any danger. Now, I don’t know where to go. I don’t know if anywhere is safe.

“We’ve got to figure out what to do. I don’t like the idea of you going home after your shift.”

“He knows where I live. And he was asking whether I have an alarm system in the apartment.”

“Fuck. That settles it. You’re coming home with me.”

“But what about Ainsley? I can’t leave her at the apartment and not tell her what’s happening.”

“You’ll probably be safer the less she knows. So will she.” That’s a good point. And knowing her, she’d only make things worse somehow.

I’m only a few minutes from the end of my shift, anyway, so I clock out before ducking through the back door, where Jase meets me. It’s a quick, tense walk to his house, the two of us cutting through the night that fell between my visit from Griffin and now. Neither of us says anything, and it’s probably safer that way. Once we get to the house, we can try to make sense of all of this.

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