As I crossed the street toward the federal building I noticed that the crime-scene investigation unit had finished with Margaret’s car. Nothing remained in the parking lot to tell the world a dead body had been there earlier in the day except for a discarded wisp of yellow police tape scurrying across the blacktop. I wondered how the CSIU team was doing with the remains of Grolin’s house and that cave. Probably had to hire a local vertical rescue and assist team to help them rappel into the cavern.
As I looked around the parking lot, I glanced back at my hotel and noticed the curtains flutter shut in a room on the second floor.
Wait a minute.
My room was on the second floor.
I counted the windows.
No maids would be in there this late in the day.
Someone was in my room.
For a split second I thought about charging into the federal building and trying to round up some help, but I discarded the idea immediately. No time. Whoever’s in my room will be long gone by the time we arrive.
I sprinted back across the street, bolted up the stairs to the second floor, and whipped out my SIG.
I opened the stairwell door and scanned the hall. No one.
Eased down the hallway.
Room 231.
Someone followed you this morning on your way into town.
Room 229… 227… 225…
Now someone’s in your hotel room.