Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [670]
“Not the best place to have a serious conversation,” he said with a smile and wanted to offer that they continue it in his suite, but a gentleman waited for the woman to make that offer. Maybe he was hoping she would offer. What would he do then?
He had the suite to himself tonight. Jill was going to be out late with her mother and maid of honor doing something or other. She’d be spending the night at her mom’s. And why was he even worrying about this? Was he that much of an idiot? It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.
“I need to go. I have some phone calls to make,” she finally said, picking up the ice bucket, but not making a move to leave.
“Yeah, me too,” he lied.
“Well, good night.” And she started down the hall.
“Good night.”
He tried not to watch her and didn’t want to follow, but then he realized she was going in the same direction he needed to go. God had a weird sense of humor, he thought as he watched her unlock and enter a suite only two doors down and across the hall from his.
CHAPTER 64
Omaha, Nebraska
Gibson told his mom he wasn’t feeling good. No, it wasn’t any big hairy deal, an upset stomach, maybe a touch of the flu or something. No, she didn’t need to call the doctor, but he didn’t want any dinner.
He really did feel sick to his stomach, but it wasn’t from the flu. It was that Darth Vader guy almost poking him into the wall. Now he wanted to stay in his room and not be bothered. He wondered if he could stay home for a few days. He wasn’t so sure he even wanted to go to Explorers tomorrow. His mom wouldn’t notice. She left for work before him and came home after him. If he could keep Tyler’s big fat mouth shut it wouldn’t be a problem. He’d need to think of a bribe. Usually Tyler’s silence could be bought. It was just a matter of figuring out what lame thing he was into this week.
He sat in front of his computer, wondering if surfing the Net might help. He hadn’t played the game since…since Monsignor O’Sullivan and the airport. How many days ago was that? He clicked the computer on and waited for Windows to boot up. In the meantime he grabbed his backpack from the floor and started going through it. There had to be a candy bar or granola bar or something inside. He dug his hand to the bottom and started feeling around so he wouldn’t need to dump everything out. His fingers found the seam of a wrapper—success! He pulled out a Snickers bar and noticed an e-mail flashing, waiting at the corner of his computer screen.
He and Timmy had exchanged e-mail addresses. He was probably wondering why Gibson didn’t wait for him this afternoon. He clicked on his e-mail and sure enough there were two from Timmy, one with the subject line that read:
WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?
There was also an e-mail from The Sin Eater, and Gibson’s stomach started to churn again. The subject line read: CAUTION!!!! He clicked it open before it managed to paralyze him. It looked like a list of instructions. At the top in caps and bold letters it read:
YOU’RE SAFE AS LONG AS YOU HAVE THE LEATHER PORTFOLIO. DON’T WORRY. I WON’T LET ANYONE HURT YOU.
Downstairs the front doorbell rang. He ignored it. His mom hadn’t gone to her evening class yet.
The portfolio. How the hell did The Sin Eater know about it? Gibson left the computer and rummaged through the back of his closet until he found it. When he first discovered it stashed inside his backpack, he had opened it enough to find Monsignor O’Sullivan’s name on the top paper. He should have known it was something important, something from that afternoon. That’s how The Sin Eater knew he was at the airport. He was there, too. Did he see who put the portfolio into his backpack? Or did The Sin Eater put it there? If it was Monsignor O’Sullivan’s and The Sin Eater took it from him, then did he see