He glanced out the window for what had to be the hundredth time already that day. A Fort Worth police cruiser had rolled slowly by earlier, and he’d nearly wet himself. Luckily, the car had continued on, the cop at the wheel merely cruising his beat.
Being cooped up was making him paranoid. The lack of information only made things worse.
According to the saying, no news was supposed to be good news. But the lack of news regarding the murder investigation didn’t feel good at all to him. Not knowing what was going on had twisted his stomach into a tight knot. Had the police found any leads? Was law enforcement on their trail? Could cops be closing in this very minute without his knowledge, maybe sneaking into the hotel through a back entrance?
Muffled voices sounded in the hall outside his door and every nerve ending in his body went on red alert. He rose reflexively from the armchair, his fight-or-flight instincts kicking in. He didn’t want to fight, especially with armed cops, but how could he flee from this room? Besides the door, the window was the only way out. For safety reasons, the window didn’t open. He’d have to smash it. But with what? The chair was too large to pick up, and the bedside lamp was bolted to the wall. It was at least a fifteen-foot drop to the hard pavement, too. If he were lucky, he’d only break an ankle. How would he flee then?
The muffled voices faded to silence. Are they gone?
He got his answer when the quiet was broken by the last sound he wanted to hear.
Knock-knock.