“What’s that?”
“Tell us all about the third floor.”
Fifteen
Travis Radcliffe’s office was a tiny room set off from the hotel’s main lobby. For the amount of stuff packed between its four walls, it should’ve been crowded and dumpy. For some reason it wasn’t. Except for a few too many coffee mugs and some runaway paperwork, everything had its perfect place.
“Sorry about the mess,” said Radcliffe. The man’s eyes were still puffy, probably from lack of sleep. “With the storm and all, I haven’t been able to straighten up much. We’re running out of just about everything. Things here have been… hectic.”
He cleared off a chair and pulled it out for Kara before sinking into his own. Logan was apparently invited to stand.
“So what can I help the two of you with?” he sighed tiredly.
“Lots of things,” said Kara. “Starting with why you didn’t tell us last night that another one of our people were already here.”
The man shrugged. “I guess I thought you knew?” He yawned. “Besides, it was three in the morning. I wasn’t exactly in a condition to be thorough.”
Kara studied his reaction. It seemed genuine. She hated surprises, especially when they involved her directly. And Jeremy was about as directly involved as things could get.
“Fine,” she said, not really satisfied. “Now, about our room—”
“Ah, your sleeping situation.” The man nodded curtly. “I spoke to the desk, and I’ll have a separate room for you by this afternoon. Good?”
“Yes please,” said Kara, shooting Logan a sideways glance. If he had an opinion on her decision, his face didn’t show it.
“Very well,” the owner said. “What else?”
“We’re going to need access to the third floor.”
At this Radcliffe’s entire demeanor changed. His shoulders slumped, his eyes went dark. It was like an invisible wall had dropped between them.
“That I cannot do.”
“Can’t do?” asked Logan. “Or won’t do?”
“Both.”
Kara wrinkled her nose. Her expression was one of boredom. “We thought you might say that…”
She nodded at Logan, who pulled out his phone. He pressed a few buttons, and it began ringing.
“Listen,” Radcliffe implored them. “Like I already told your associate. You might think you want to go up there, but you don’t know what—”
A voice crackled through the phone’s speaker before the screen actually blinked on.
“What the fuck do you want Rhodes?”
Logan held the phone out at arm’s length so the three of them could see. On the video chat, Xiomara looked thoroughly bedraggled. Like an angry elf on a tiny screen.
“Ah, LoPresti. You too? Shouldn’t you both be—”
“Yes,” Kara interjected, “we should be. But the owner here, Mr. Radcliffe, won’t allow us access to the Averoigne’s third floor.”
They could see Xiomara’s eyebrows knit together, even on the five-inch display. It was a look Kara had seen plenty of times in the past.
“And why the holy fuck not?”
“Good question,” said Kara. She reached out and shifted the phone directly onto Travis Radcliffe. “Why don’t you ask him?”