Checking Inn by Harper Emily

Author:Harper, Emily [Harper, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-12-18T07:00:00+00:00

“Well, that was interesting,” Ben says as we get back in the car and drive to Samantha’s apartment. “I would have liked to see her old office, but it probably wasn’t the right time to ask by the end.”

“Sorry,” I say, gripping the steering wheel. “But, do you know how hard I worked to make sure everything was perfect for that review? I had a bikini wax for that woman!”

Well, half of one.

Ben raises his eyebrows, but thankfully says nothing.

“And you want to know what the worst part is? I actually kind of admire her for getting fired. At least she was standing up for what she believed in,” I say.

“Kate, don’t kid yourself. Samantha sounds like she was a real piece of work. My hunch is she wrote that article just to piss people off.”

“So, what now?” I ask.

“We go to her place and see if we can get any information on who the client was,” he says.

“You think that’s who could have killed her?” I ask.

“Who knows? But it’s the only decent lead we’ve got.”

“How are we going to get in?”

“I have her key,” he says, fishing through his pocket and bringing out a pile of old receipts and wrappers. He finds the key with some pocket lint attached to it and holds it up for me to see.

“Is that legal, to go into her place without a warrant?” I ask, parking the car in front of Samantha’s building.

“I have a warrant,” he says, opening his door and getting out. “But, you are not on it, so if anyone asks, you work for the police department.”

I run after him into the building’s lobby, looking around to see if anyone is going to shout out that I don’t belong there. I catch up to him at the elevator as he waits for the doors to open.

“Could I get arrested for this?” I whisper and frantically look around again.

“By who? I’m the police,” he gets in the elevator.

I quickly scramble in as well and watch as he presses the button for her floor.

“So, what are we looking for when we get inside?” I ask and take out my little clipboard from my purse.

“Whatever looks odd,” he says, looking at my clipboard and frowning.

“Okay.”

Look for odd things, I write.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Making a list.”

“A list of what?”

“Of things to look for,” I say. Honestly.

“Does that actually help you?” he asks. “All those checklists and rules?”

“Of course,” I say and can’t help but frown. “This way I can make sure everything is done properly and we won’t waste any time.”

He looks thoughtful before asking, “What happened to the girl who slid down the banister?”

My hand suddenly stops writing and I put my clipboard back in my purse.

“She doesn’t exist anymore,” I say.

When the doors finally open at Samantha’s floor I am the first to get off.

Samantha’s apartment is just as I imagined it, all sleek lines and chrome accents; it must have cost her a fortune. It looks so cold– just like her.

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