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The cabin hadn’t changed much in my absence. The door was unlocked, strangely enough, so I guess I didn’t have much time. I headed straight for the bedroom, George following swiftly behind.
‘Can you keep a lookout?’ I asked quietly.
‘Nobody’s here, I told you.’
‘The door was open. They’re not far.’
‘I had a look around the beach and parking lot, too. I saw nobody,’ he shrugged. ‘You’re safe.’
‘If this was a movie, I’d smile and nod and then immediately get killed when I discover a clue. Go. Look. Outside.’
I wasn’t budging. I might not enjoy horror or thrillers, but I’d still seen enough to not make basic mistakes like that.
‘Fine. Drama queen,’ he mumbled, phasing through the wall. I turned my attention back to the bedroom.
‘Right,’ I said to myself decisively. ‘Where do I begin?’
Recalling the gross drawer in the dresser, I avoided that one like the plague. I checked the others again but there seemed to be nothing new. Peering under the bed, I noticed two suitcases and dragged them out. There was a smart, minimalistic black one and a large designer one. I could take a guess as to which one was Angela’s.
I started on the black one.
What? Jose had pissed me off more than she had. Besides, no harm in checking. And it’s always a girl’s fantasy to look in a guy’s suitcase. Or something.
Okay, I was nosy. Nothing much to look at, anyway. A couple pairs of understated underpants, a few rogue socks, a belt, and a suspicious metallic-feeling lump sewn into the underside. Nothing unusual at all. Just your average suitcase.
‘I need a knife,’ I called out.
‘Oh, sure. I’ll go grab one for you,’ George called back.
‘Thanks- oh, right. Idiot,’ I muttered, directing that at the both of us.
I found a knife stand in the kitchen, because of course this random hotel cabin would have one. George was standing in the sink, staring out of the window.
‘What are you looking at?’ I frowned, following his eyes.
‘You told me to keep a watch,’ he tutted.
‘Yeah, but, a roving one. Not on one specific spot,’ I sighed. His eyes instantly went loopy and looked everywhere at once.
‘Much better. Thanks.’
‘Pleasure,’ he yelled as I returned to my suitcase stabbing.
The material was thinner than a supermodel and I managed to rip it in half before I stopped myself. Gave myself a sweet cut on my finger, too. Bled all over everywhere. And it hurt like hell.
On the bright side, I knew for a fact now that George was not a ghost vampire.
I stole a sock and stuck it on my hand as a terrible makeshift bandage. Driving would be fun one-handed. Thank God I wasn’t driving stick.
Reaching into the suitcase, I managed to pull out the foreign object without any more horrific accidents. It was a little black square, about an inch or two wide. It had a button on it, and a flashing light. That’s it. Not much to tell.
But I knew a tracker when I saw one.
‘George, I’ve got something.’
‘Okay, cool.’
I waited.
‘Are you coming to see it?’
‘I thought you wanted me to keep watch.’
‘Just get in here!’ I shouted, irritated.
He came in nonchalantly and jumped back at the sight of the blood splatter on the beech floor.
‘What the hell? What did you do?’
‘I was sacrificing myself to the gods,’ I said, raising my hands in mock worship.
‘You’d make an awful sacrifice,’ he clucked, flinching at my hand. ‘You know that’s not how you wear socks, right?’
‘I cut myself. I needed to do something.’
‘When you were attacking an innocent suitcase? Man, you’re weird. No wonder nobody believes you about ghosts.’
‘Oh my God, you’re unbelievable. No wonder I don’t help ghosts,’ I countered. ‘I found something.’
I held up the tracker and waved it in his face.
‘Thumb drive?’
‘Guess again,’ I said, shaking my head. He brightened up, putting on a thinking face.
‘A portal to another dimension-’
‘Okay, stop. It’s a tracker. You know, GPS?’
‘You’re no fun,’ he pouted.
He took a closer look at it as I did, looking at where it came from.
‘Why’s it in his case, not hers?’
The question currently running through my mind, too. We both suspected Jose of fishy behavior, but that’s where our suspicion ended. We didn’t know if he was good guy or a bad guy. I was leaning more towards evil, anyway. He knew the dead cop, he’s dating a murderer, and he’d already threatened me, too. Okay, definitely bad. But how?
‘Do you think he knows it’s there?’ I thought out loud.
‘Not sure. Let me go read his mind and I’ll give you the deets.’
‘Helpful as always, George.’
‘I try. What should we do with it?’
I stared at the blinking light, going over the options.
‘I want to break it.’
I immediately went on a hunt for a hammer of some sort, as George followed me disdainfully.
‘A suitcase is one thing, but that’s a neat bit of kit. That’s tiny. You know how much they cost?’
‘No?’
‘Neither do I, but probably a lot,’ he said.
‘So, I’ll pay for it. It was hidden in the lining of a suitcase,’ I reminded him. ‘Not in a pocket; stitched into it. You know what that means?’
‘He’s a spy.’
‘Can you be serious for one second?’ I asked, giving up my search. Not a single hammer in any kitchen cupboard, would you believe? I caught sight of the knife block and shrugged.
‘I am. He probably has other gadgets. I bet he works for the government.’
‘The government, really?’ I sighed, picking up the block. It was a hefty weight. ‘We’re going with the government?’
‘No!’ he called out as I destroyed the tracker. It stopped flashing, partly because the light was now on the other side of the room.
I was pretty pleased with myself. George, on the other hand, was not.
‘Why did you do that?’ he asked, aghast.
‘Why not? He probably didn’t even know it was there. When he comes back and sees this, he’ll be freaked out. Hey, maybe he’ll kill Angela. That’d solve things.’
‘Can you be serious now?’
His voice had taken on a shrill tone so I dialed down the crazy.
‘Alright, keep your hair on. But we’d reached an impasse. I had to do something to coax somebody else to do something.’
‘Yeah, but it was there for a reason. Whoever put it there will know it ain’t there now.’
‘Great! Maybe they’ll come put in a new one,’ I mused.
He shook his head in despair, hair flopping about his eyes.
‘Come on, it’s done now. We can go home.’
‘Leaving the suitcase disheveled and your blood all over the floor?’
‘I knew I’d regret doing that,’ I groaned, heading back to the room for a quick cleanup.
I used the remaining socks to vaguely wipe away my life-force and zipped the remainder of the case, shoving it back under the bed.
‘What was in Angela’s?’ he asked out of curiosity.
‘No idea. Didn’t look,’ I replied, about to push hers back, too. I stopped myself. ‘Screw it. What’s the worst that could happen?’
Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have said that. At least then we wouldn’t have been faced with a suitcase full of cocaine.
‘Oh,’ we said in tandem.
‘I shouldn’t have looked,’ I moaned.
The famed white powder was packaged in tight bricks, like I’d seen in countless heists on TV. The luggage was full. I mean, to the brim.
‘How much-?’
‘A lot. A lot, a lot, a lot,’ George breathed.
We stared at it for a little while longer. It was awesome to look at. As in, awe-inducing. I don’t know about the rest of my school, but I’ve never seen anything other than prescription drugs in my life. This is something I’ve heard about for years. I’ve read about it. I’ve seen pictures of it. I know that people lose their lives over this on a daily basis. That last thought chilled me.
‘I just realized something,’ he whispered, annoyed.
‘Hmm?’
‘Ally was right. Angela is dangerous. More than we knew.’
And I’d shut her up and laughed behind her back. Sometimes, I hated being a girl. I never listened to people’s advice. I never gave them the benefit of the doubt. I was too quick to ridicule and-
And go off on tangents whilst committing a crime.
‘I should go,’ I announced, zipping the suitcase back up and shoving it under the bed.
‘Where?’
‘Back to the hotel, I guess,’ I shrugged, standing up. George was frozen on the spot.
‘Annie, that wasn’t me who spoke.’
Too late; too damned late did I see the figure dressed in black standing in the doorway. Jose, with his cell to his ear and staring at me full of pent-up rage. I was too afraid to take my eyes off him.
‘He’s got a gun,’ George murmured, gesturing to the holster on his jeans I hadn’t seen.
I nodded softly in acknowledgment, waiting for Jose to make his move. It was only a matter of time.
He nodded, and said words that gave my goosebumps, goosebumps.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.’
He hung up and put his right hand casually on his gun.
‘What are the chances he’s left-handed?’ George muttered.
‘Not good,’ I replied.
‘No, this isn’t good. This isn’t good at all. Do you know-?’ Jose cried, before stopping himself. I’d never know what I was about to be asked if I know, because he shook his head and chose not to say it.
‘You’re coming with me.’
It was not a request.
‘What if I don’t want to go with you?’
It was supposed to sound cool and intimidating, but it came out all sneery instead. Surprisingly, he did not take well to that. His hand gripped his gun and veins shot out all down his neck.
‘Don’t make me use this.’
‘Okay, I won’t!’ I apologized. He indicated via an odd head movement that I should start walking. The instant I got within striking distance, his fingers planted themselves on my sock-arm, taking root in my skin. I winced.
‘You’re hurting.’
I knew what would happen when I said that, and I said it anyway. He only gripped me tighter and dragged me out of the cabin. Annoyingly, for the middle of the day, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Perfect time to kidnap a semi-innocent individual. He led me to the parking lot, built right next to the lobby. I gazed back at the building, full of safety and coffee. Oh, so close.
‘Don’t,’ he warned me, gripping my arm even tighter to prevent me from yelling for help. Yeah, I should’ve screamed before I looked.
He led me to our first destination, George following helplessly behind. I eyed up the lonely three cars and placed my bet. There was a grey Audi with British plates. Poor Ronnie. Wife kills him and takes his car. That’s gotta hurt. I scratched the German off my list. Next up was a bright yellow convertible with old frappe cups sprinkled over it. Okay, I’d leave it as a maybe. Last but terrifyingly not least was an anonymous black SUV: vehicle of choice for nefarious dudes and their doings.
Ding, we have a winner. And it wasn’t going to be me.
At least I’d be murdered by a gentleman, though. He opened the door for me before shoving me in to the backseat and locking the door. I know, I tried it. I could only watch and try not to cry as he came around to the driver’s seat and got in.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked as he switched on the ignition.
He grinned at me. It wasn’t a pleasant one.
‘For a drive.’