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Muffled conversation. “Nope.”
“Okay. Keep looking at the film. We’re working on the theory that this guy is a former prospect to the club. Guy named Schipper.”
“Fuck,” Moose swore. “I remember that asshole.”
“Not a hundred percent sure, but sounds like he might be our guy. Keep in touch.”
“Gotcha, Prez.”
Down in the lobby, a couple of heads of the departments were already there, standing next to the reception. When they were all assembled, Grey asked them whether anyone on their staff had a tattoo of a crab on the back of his hand, possibly named Schipper.
The head of housekeeping spoke up. “There’s someone who works in the laundry with a tattoo like that, but his name isn’t Schipper. He was just hired recently.”
“Is he working today?”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t think so. I believe it’s his day off.”
Grey, Cal, and Trig continued to interrogate the hotel workers. While they were talking, an idea occurred to me. Desperate to help, I turned to Mr. Hassan.
“Is there a place where the person you hired to be Santa for our party would have stored his things and changed into the costume?”
“Yes, there’s a staff locker facility.”
“Can you take me to it?”
He hesitated. “The locker rooms are separated by gender.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you really think that matters right now?”
Hassan looked like he wanted to refuse, but then glanced at Grey and seemed to think better of it. He nodded once, curtly. “This way.”
I turned to follow him. As I did, Grey noticed and threw me a questioning glance. I mouthedI’ll be backand made a phone gesture with my hand.Keep your phone handy.
Hassan took me to a door behind the reception area and used his card to open it. Inside was a long corridor which led to a stairwell. We descended a floor and then emerged into a maze-like series of hallways. He strode purposefully forward, and I had to hurry to keep up with him.
“How long does it take to learn your way around here?” I asked. He didn’t answer.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. It was Grey.
“Where’d you go?” he asked without preamble.
“I’m having Mr. Hassan take me to where the staff lockers are.”
“Shit, See, you can’t be walking around here without one of the men with you. It’s too dangerous.”
“You said yourself time was of the essence, Grey. I’ll be fine.”
Just then, a man came out of a door to the right at the end of one of the hallways. He was maybe late twenties, medium build, a bit of a paunch, brown hair. He was too far away for me to see his hands to look for a tattoo. But he was carrying a bundle that looked like fabric.
Red, velvety fabric.
“Hey!” I shouted.
The man looked back, startled. He dropped the bundle and stumbled backwards, reaching for something as he did.
“Gun!” I screamed.
Hassan yelped as I pulled him into a doorway. A shot rang out. Then footsteps as the man ran away.
