Two hours later Alan stood on the street outside the NoName Hotel watching the taillights on Edie Black’s white luxury SUV disappear in the direction of her mountainside home. She gave Marjorie a ride home since Marjorie had casually mentioned that she had used a cab to get to the restaurant.
During Edie and Marjorie’s leisurely dinner and tete-a-tete, Lockem managed to down a succulent hamburger and a decent salad while sitting at the bar. He could have chosen a steak, but the ground beef turned out to be every bit as good. He’d detected nothing untoward; no one at the bar or at dinner in the big room appeared to be paying more than casual or occasional attention to the two attractive women dining alone. No one hit on them, no one took a pot shot. Lockem did see a few men wearing what looked like weapons on their belts. Since that’s not illegal in Idaho, he dismissed them as potential threats. But he made a mental note. Lockem did not normally go around weaponized. That didn’t mean he was ignorant or inept or even against guns. He wasn’t a hunter, at least not of critters. His hunting time usually focused on the two-legged variety, the ones who watched from dark corners, drove stolen vehicles, and occasionally shot back.
He beat Marjorie back to the hotel by just a couple of minutes, enough to let him make it to the edge of the driveway where Edie dropped Marjorie. Edie drove by Lockem where he stood casually concealed by bushes and the darkness. He went up the drive and into the lobby where Marjorie smiled and took his arm. He nodded to the black-haired clerk at the desk. It was the same woman who’d checked them in the day before.
Upstairs Lockem had his key ready. It was big and brass. Apparently electronic room key systems had not yet made their way to the wilds of Idaho. As it turned out that was a good thing.
He inserted the key and twisted the heavy brass knob. The door unlatched. That was odd. It was supposed to be the twist of the key that slid the deadbolt out of the way so the door would open. Somebody had been in the room and neglected to lock the door upon leaving.
He hesitated and Marjorie, recognizing the lift of Lockem’s shoulder, stepped back. He pushed the door gently, swinging it wide open. He probably should have stood to one side but nothing happened except the door swung open and came to rest against the closet wall with a quiet thump.
Lockem stared at what he could see of the suite and then leaned his head through the door frame next to the handle edge. Marjorie glanced through the gap at the hinge side. Because the door was hefty, the gap was wide. Neither saw anything unusual. Stepping silently inside Lockem bent and peered at the door’s lock and handle and again saw nothing unusual.
There was no one in the suite except Marjorie Kane and Alan Lockem. He stepped across the room and telephoned reception to find out if anybody had been asking for them. Apparently no one had. That might mean that whoever entered the rooms had made a random hit and didn’t know them. Lockem didn’t think that theory would fly. A more likely scenario was that whoever it was had other means of determining the couple’s whereabouts than talking to a desk clerk.
Very interesting development.
Morning was another bright and sunny one. “I still think we should have waited until we had more anonymous time in town before meeting with your cuz.”
“Actually, I agree. But she was just so insistent. I decided I’d better see her if only to calm her down a little.”
“Did it work?”
Marjorie sighed, working on her face in the vanity mirror. “A little, I guess. But she wants us to meet the neighbors.”
“Ah, yes, the neighbors and co-suers. Did she ask about me? About my absence last night?”
“She did. I made some excuse. Said you were working, following a lead, or something. I don’t think she believed me. So, what about the room? Do you think somebody came in?”
“I believe so. But it may have just been a maid, or a supervisor checking to see if the room was satisfactory. I can’t find anything missing or disturbed. I think we’ll take a few precautions when we leave today. I brought some equipment and that shelf over there opposite the bed could conceal a camera.”
“You do what you have to. I’m hungry so I’m going to the coffee shop in the lobby. See you downstairs.” Marjorie sashayed out the door. That’s what she does, sashays. Lockem watched her leave the room thinking he rarely saw her just walking somewhere. Her stride called attention. I suppose it’s due to her former profession, he mused, momentarily diverted from the main job at hand. Old habits die hard, or something.
He smiled internally and turned attention to setting up a camera in a niche he created on the shelf opposite the bed. Fortunately he had an extra camera battery because there was no way he could conceal an extension power cord running from a wall outlet. Even at its widest setting, the lens didn’t cover the whole room, of course, but he positioned it so the bathroom door was at one side of the frame and the bureau at the other. In the middle then was the bed with the door to the bathroom on the left. The quality of the image would never win any awards, but he would be able to identify anybody who penetrated their space. He switched on the unit and made sure the tape covering the recording light was in place. I’ve never understood why manufacturers of what they sell as surveillance cameras always put a bright red light on the front of the camera to indicate recording is functioning. It takes power from the battery and alerts anybody looking that a recording is being made. Duh.
He closed the small valise and locked up. Sun streamed through the lobby windows and made it easy to locate his partner at a small table in the coffee shop.