Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [24]
Adam went into the bedroom and returned with a blanket he’d taken from the bed and one of the pillows. He spread the blanket over her carefully and tucked the pillow under her head, then turned off the light. He put the safety chain on the door, and went back into the other room to go to sleep.
Kendra awoke in the night, mildly disoriented and more than a bit chagrined to find that she’d fallen asleep in Adam’s room rather than her own.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered as she struggled to free herself from the blanket that she’d wrapped partially around her midsection as she slept.
Stumbling to the small desk that sat along the far wall, she peered at the phone for the read-out of the time. Three forty-seven A.M. She wondered how long she’d been asleep.
Berating herself for dozing off in the middle of a conversation, Kendra folded the blanket neatly and left it on the sofa. In the dark, she paused, debating whether or not to turn on the light so that she could gather her notes and whatever else she had left on the coffee table. From the next room, Adam’s breathing was rhythmic, steady. Turning on the light could awaken him, something she wanted to avoid at all costs. It was bad enough she’d fallen asleep when she did. Advertising that she was sneaking back to her own room in the wee hours would only embarrass her more. She stood next to the sofa and allowed her toes to search for her shoes. Finding them, she slipped them on, then quietly walked to the door, unlatched it, and stepped out into the hush of the hallway.
It was hard to believe that people were sleeping behind the doors that lined the hall, the floor was so quiet. She found her room, six doors down from Adam’s, and as carefully as she could, slid the card in the lock to open the door. Closing it behind her, she set the safety lock and turned on the light switch. The light in the bathroom to her left came on, giving her enough visibility to find her way to her bed. Stripping off her clothes and searching through her suitcase for a nightshirt, she reached for the phone to call the desk clerk to request an early wake-up call. Knowing that Adam would want to get an early start, and still feeling sheepish about falling asleep in his room, she reached for the phone on the table next to her bed.
It was then that she noticed the message light was blinking.
Adam was the only person who knew she was here. Had he called her room after she’d fallen asleep to leave some smart-mouthed message for her to find when she returned? She wouldn’t put it past him.
She lifted the receiver and pushed the button to retrieve the message.
“Hi,” a male voice greeted her cheerfully.
Definitely not Adam.
“Heard you were in town and, well, I just couldn’t resist giving you a ring. It’s sure been a long time, hasn’t it? Sorry we won’t be able to get together just yet—you know, places to go, people to see. But you can expect to hear from me again. I will be in touch. You can bet your life on it.”
Kendra frowned and hung up the phone. Obviously the call had been intended for someone else and had been mistakenly directed to her room. She called the desk and requested a six-fifteen wake-up call, ordered coffee to be delivered at six-thirty, then, remembering the message, said, “Oh, by the way. There was a message on my phone that should have gone to another room.”
“Which other room?” the desk clerk asked.
“I don’t know which other room. A man left a message that was clearly intended for someone else. I have no idea who he was or whose room he thought he had reached, but the message wasn’t for me.”
“Hold on, please.”
Kendra yawned, sorry she’d even brought it up. She rested the phone between her cheek and her shoulder while she turned down the bed, then sat at the edge of the mattress, wanting nothing more than to fall straight back onto the pillow and return to sleep.
“Ms. Smith, there’s no record of an incoming call being placed to your room.”
“How is that possible? I just listened to the message. . . .”
“The call must have been made from