A Code for Carolyn by V. Anne Smith

Author:V. Anne Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9783030045531
Publisher: Springer International Publishing

Chapter Thirty-One

Susan? Carolyn typed. It could be Ethan.

That’s me, the screen replied. Glad you got through. Ethan was worried you’d eat the sweets before figuring out the message.

Almost! replied Carolyn. Did you know there’s a file here with her friend’s codes?

No. A pause. That would have been simpler, wouldn’t it?

Some. She smiled. It felt good to be chatting with Susan, even if only in text bubbles. What’s going on there? What did they tell you?

Not much.

She waited, realising she did not know which question Susan had just answered.

Ethan’s playing around with the genes on the cards again. Do you think there’s a safe in Hawaii?

She shrugged in reply, then laughed at herself. Don’t know. Hope so. Something in the other room creaked, maybe. She froze. But nothing followed. Look, I’m not sure how long I’m alone for. Can you look up stuff on Sandslin for me? And Mike and Dorsey?

Will do. Want to schedule another chat? Just luck I had this open this morning.

She bit her lip. When could she be sure of being alone? Maybe in the middle of the night? What was the time difference to Paris, anyway? Night time here, maybe midnight? Can you figure out when that is?

Will do.

A sharp bang came from the next room, and thumps of two sets of footsteps entered. They’re back. Talk to you tonight. She closed the app.

She swung her feet to the edge of the bed and stood up. The 3D was still on, making it hard to hear what was going on next door, but it really did sound like two people. Mike had gone out because he said Dorsey would be back late. What if it wasn’t them?

Sudden fear dried her mouth. She started slowly shovelling things into her knapsack, somehow thinking she could take it and run. But no, the opening door was obvious from that room to this; the reverse would be true as well.

“Whose room is this?” said a man. That was not Mike or Agent Dorsey.

Her hands shook. She had everything in the bag but the sweets. Where could she go? There was nowhere to hide in the bathroom. There was a sliding window to a porch, but it was at the far end of the room, past the connecting door. She had not yet tried to open it. What if it was loud?

“Looks like both of them dumped their stuff here. I’ll check the other room.” Another male voice.

She had to hide. The wardrobe? Under the bed? She dropped to the floor. Some hotel beds did not have an ‘under’. Cloth draped all the way to the floor. She stuck her hand to the right, and the cloth gave way. It was just a valence.

Relief flooded her. She scooted sideways, sliding under the bed and pulling her knapsack with her. Stale dust tickled her nose. She breathed slowly, fighting a sneeze, until the sensation faded.

“It doesn’t look like they’ve done more than turn on the 3D,” said the second voice, loud and close.

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