The Liberation of Alice Love - Abby McDonald [93]
Alice gasped.
“It’s her!” All thoughts of seduction were suddenly forgotten as Alice stared at the photo in amazement. “It’s Ella!”
“What?” Nathan jerked his head around to the lobby, as if he expected to see their quarry strolling through to the pool for an afternoon dip.
“There, in the photograph, behind Chris Carmel.” Alice jabbed her fingertip toward it. “Do you see?” She beamed at Nathan triumphantly.
“Alice”—his voice softened—“it’s OK. It’s been a crazy few days. Let’s keep the rain check for another time and get you home.” He took her arm and tried to guide her away. “You’ll feel more like yourself after a good night’s sleep.”
“I don’t need sleep,” Alice protested, shaking off his hand.
He thought she was backing out, Alice realized: that she was looking for an excuse not to follow through with her proposition, but none of that mattered now, not when she was so close to a breakthrough. “Look!” she pushed him closer to the display. “That woman with her back to the shot: I’m telling you—it’s Ella.”
Nathan glanced back at the photo. “Alice, she’s barely in the frame at all—I can’t make out a thing.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I know you want to find her, but this is going too far. That could be anyone.”
Alice refused to yield so easily. She snatched a leaflet of the exhibition details from the side table and eagerly scanned through the small print until she found the titles. “It’s from May,” she announced. “The dates match. It’s her!”
Nathan blinked. “Let me see that.” He reached for the program, as if her word wasn’t enough. Looking from the photograph to the details and back again, he shook his head in surprise as the possibility finally dawned. “You know, you could be right…”
“Of course I am,” Alice replied. “The manager said we needed proof she was here, and now we have it.” She felt a thrill rush through her, better than any seductive urge. It had been the smallest clue, perhaps the only one Ella had overlooked, but she had found it. Nobody could erase themselves completely; you just had to look hard enough. “Ask for access to the security footage,” she told Nathan, beginning to push him toward the gleaming marble front desk. “And the guest logs for that week, and—”
“Hey, I’ve got it,” Nathan cut her off, amused. “I have done this before, you know.”
“Right.” Alice nodded, practically vibrating with impatience. A bored, wealthy-looking family was trailing through the front entrance; if they reached the desk before them, she would have to wait hours for assistance, she was sure. “So, can you? Now?”
He paused, no doubt to tease her.
“Nathan!”
“OK, OK. I’m going,” Nathan agreed. “Now, come watch the master at work.”
Alice rolled her eyes at his arrogance, but after watching him talk his way through the desk clerk, charm the manager in low, courteous tones, and secure them access to the security suite and those all-important date-stamped video files, she had to concede, he was very, very good at what he did. And after twenty minutes spent squinting at CCTV footage from the terrace on the day of the photograph, they found exactly what she was looking for.
“Which room is she going to?” Alice leaned forward on the edge of her seat with anticipation as Nathan deftly switched between camera views, tracking Ella’s familiar figure as she finished her drink and strolled back inside. She seemed carefree and relaxed, Alice decided, as if she didn’t have a care at all or any notion that someone might one day be watching.
“Hang on.” Nathan looked equally as transfixed as they watched her browse newspapers in the lobby, pause to chat with a passing guest, and finally—finally!—skip up the elegant staircase toward her room. “Second floor, number…” He paused as Ella swiped her card key, expanding the image on the screen until the discreet gold number on the door was visible. “Two one three.” Nathan announced. He turned quickly to the guest manifest printout, but Alice was already scanning the page.
“Two one three…” Her heart sped up as she looked for the