With his appearance so transformed now, he no longer felt the need to rush down to breakfast early. He returned from the buffet Tuesday morning at 8:30 with a heaping plate of food. He nearly dropped it when he saw the door to his room standing wide open. He rushed forward, hot coffee sloshing over the top of his cardboard cup, burning his fingers and leaving spots on the hallway carpet.
He stepped through the door to find the housekeeper on the far side of the room, facing away from him, vacuuming. She’d opened the closet door to vacuum the floor. She wasn’t even aware that he had entered the room. Anyone could have darted in here, reached into the open closet, and grabbed his backpack with the stash of cash zipped in the inside pocket. Or they could have quickly gone through the bag and removed the cash from it. Where would he have been then? Totally screwed. That’s where.
He set his plate and coffee on the table and rounded up his backpack from the closet, carrying it to the table. The woman finished vacuuming on the other side of the bed and turned around, giving him a smile when she noticed him at the table. She had no way of knowing if he was a legitimate guest in this room, yet she did nothing to stop him from riffling through the bag. She probably didn’t want to risk offending a guest. He surreptitiously peeked into the inside pocket, relief calming him when he saw the wad of cash still there. He’d need it today. He had to load more funds onto the prepaid credit card he’d used to pay for the room. His charge for the upcoming week was due today.
He wondered how much longer he’d have to hole up here. He was lying low to avoid prison, yet staying in this room felt like he’d been sentenced to solitary confinement. He’d had no companionship, nobody to talk to. Tomorrow night’s meet-up couldn’t come soon enough.