The knocking started at 2:37 A.M. It was soft but forceful.
She was wide awake, staring at the ceiling above her bed, when she heard it. Her heart instantly leapt into her throat. She was wearing an extra-long T-shirt and panties, just as she would at home. Now she regretted her choice. She Suddenly, felt vulnerable.
A chair was wedged under the door handle. Both locks were set. The safety chain was attached as well. If someone tried to break in, it would take a lot of effort and make a lot of noise. But not as much noise as her screaming. If necessary, she would wake the whole damn hotel.
Nervously, Allison stared through the peephole. Two men were standing in the hallway. One black, one white. Both of them looked muscular and lethal. “Yes?”
Payne answered, “I’m Jonathon. This is D.J. We’re here to help.”
“Just a minute,” she lied. “I’m getting my gun.”
“Great,” Jones mumbled. “I feel safer already.”
Allison hurried away from the door and grabbed her cell phone, the one that Byrd had given to her. It was programmed with only one number. She hustled back to the peephole before she placed the call. A few seconds passed before she got the response she was hoping for. Payne looked at his phone and smiled. Then he held it up to the door. It was vibrating in his hand.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s really me.”
“Just checking,” she said through the door. “Give me a minute. I have to get dressed.”
“Take your time.”
Jones leaned forward and whispered to Payne. “She’s smart, naked, and carrying a gun? She’s my kind of girl.”
“Keep it in your pants, soldier.”
“Good point. She’s scared enough already.”
A few minutes later, they saw the door rattle as she pulled the chair away. Then they heard the locks, one after the other. Finally, she opened the door and peeked through the crack.
She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. No shoes. No makeup. Yet she was stunning. Her hair was blond and hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of sapphires. Payne offered his hand in greeting, and she grasped it firmly. Her skin was soft, but her grip was strong.
“I’m Jon.”
“Allison,” she said as she opened the door wider.
“Nice to meet you. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. But I’m glad you’re finally here.”
He smiled. The feeling was mutual. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” she said, still holding the door.
“Thanks.” Payne brushed past her as he eased into the suite. He glanced around, making sure that she was alone. “That’s D.J. He’s harmless.”
She smiled and shook his hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for the invitation.”
She laughed nervously. “Aren’t we a polite bunch?”
Payne gave Jones a nod, letting him know the place was clear. Only then did he come inside and lock the door. It was a simple precaution, but one that could save their lives.
“Nice suite,” Payne said as he roamed from the master bedroom to the sitting room. There was a couch, a few colorful chairs, and a glass coffee table. A plasma TV hung from the far wall. In the corner was a writing desk, right next to the entrance to the guest bedroom.
“It better be,” she said. “I spent all my money on it.”
“Don’t worry. I told you to come here, so it’s my treat.”
She didn’t argue. The room was expensive. “I have to admit, I’m kind of surprised you chose this place. Aren’t people supposed to hide out in seedy motels?”
“Dumb people do.”
“So do dead ones,” cracked Jones.
She grimaced. “I don’t follow.”
Payne sat on the couch and signaled for her to sit on one of the chairs. This way, he could study her as they spoke. He still had a lot to learn about her. Including her truthfulness.
“Let me ask you a question,” he said. “Did you feel safe in the lobby?”
She nodded as she took her seat, folding her legs underneath her.
“Would you have in a seedy motel?”
“Probably not,” she admitted as she grabbed a pillow. She clutched it against her chest like a security blanket.
“So right off the bat there’s a problem. Not only would you have to worry about the guy who’s following you, but you’d have to worry about the crack dealer with the baseball bat.”
She smiled. “Good point.”
“How about security? Does a roach motel have top-notch security?”
“No.”
“Of course not. No security guards, no video surveillance, no key cards or deadbolts. Even worse, seedy motels are reluctant to call the police for any reason because they don’t want the cops snooping around. It’s bad for their side businesses, like drugs and prostitution.” He shook his head. “By comparison, this place is Fort Knox.”
“I have to admit, I never considered that.”
“That’s okay. That’s why you called us. For our expertise.”
“Speaking of which-”
“Uh-oh,” Jones teased as he sat on the couch. “This is when she asks for our résumé.”
She blushed slightly. “Not your résumé, but . . .”