Grave Secret - Charlaine Harris [62]
“He hates me,” I said.
“I’m not so sure he feels any different about me,” Tolliver said. “If I fall down three flights of stairs, don’t call them. I love Mark and he’s my brother, but he’s back under Dad’s thumb, and I don’t trust him at all.”
Twelve
I left the hospital after dark, and I drove around for a while until I was sure there was no one behind me. I was so new to worrying about being followed that I’m sure there could have been five cars following my trail and I might not have realized it, but I did my best. I parked close to the hotel entrance, and I practically ran into the lobby. The suite was on the second floor, and I waited in the hall until I was sure no one was in sight to watch to see which door I unlocked.
I unpacked and did a little ironing. I optimistically checked over Tolliver’s clothes, picking out something he could wear home. I figured he wouldn’t be comfortable stretching his arm up to pull on a T-shirt or polo shirt, so I decided on a sports shirt and jeans. I put them in a little bag. I was ready.
After I’d watched the news, I called down for room service. I was glad there was a restaurant attached to the hotel, because I didn’t want to go out by myself. I was a little surprised I hadn’t gotten a call from Manfred offering to join me for supper, but whether or not I had a companion, I was hungry. I ordered a Caesar salad and some minestrone, figuring that should taste good even if the cook wasn’t hugely talented.
I hustled to the door when the expected knock came, but I paused before flinging it open. In my experience, the server knocking at the door always said, “Room service.” This one hadn’t.
With my ear to the door, I listened. I thought someone on the other side might be doing exactly the same thing.
Of course I should look to see who was standing there. But weirdly, I found myself scared to put my eye to the peephole. I was afraid the shooter was standing out there with a gun, and he’d fire through the door if he had proof I was inside. I knew if you were alert you could tell when the person in the room was looking out, and for the life of me, I couldn’t make myself do it.
I heard the elevator down the hall, and I heard the ding as it arrived at my floor and the sound of the doors opening. There was the rattle of the cart, a sound I recognized, and I heard someone shift positions right outside my door. Yes, someone was still there. But after a second, my caller walked rapidly away. I put my eye to the peephole, but it was too late. I didn’t catch a glimpse of whoever had been at the door.
The next second there was a much firmer knock, and a woman’s voice said, “Room service.” The peephole verified that this was in fact a server with a cart, and I opened the door without hesitation once I saw how bored she seemed.
“Did you see someone walking away from my door?” I asked. I didn’t want to seem too paranoid, so I added, “I was taking a nap, and I thought I heard someone knock right before you did, but by the time I made it to the door, they were gone.”
“There was someone walking the other way,” the woman said, “but I didn’t see his face. Sorry.”
That was the end of that, apparently.
I was pretty angry with myself. I should have looked through the peephole. Maybe I would have discovered it was a stranger who’d gotten the wrong room number. Maybe I would have seen Manfred, who knew I was in this hotel. Or maybe I would have seen the face of my enemy.
Disappointed in my fearful self, I turned on the television set and watched a rerun of Law and Order while I had my soup and my salad. The sun never sets on Law and Order, and if I’d seen that episode too many times, there was always CSI in any of its incarnations. There is plenty of justice on television, but not so much in the real world. Maybe that’s why so many of us like television so much.
I ate slowly, and found that I was trying to chew quietly so I could listen for noise at the door. This was silly. I put on the chain and the night bolt, and with that measure of reassurance, I felt better. After I’d eaten, I looked