The Prince and the Player

“Sounds like we’re all set.”

He hands me the keys to the sedan, and I wave to Logan and Freddie. They’ll shadow me to the hotel then wait from the SUV as I pretend to reserve a room. We’ll maintain contact through our smart watches, which has the added benefit of letting them know my heart is still beating. I’ve worked with these guys before. They’re two of the best from my regiment.

It takes a half-hour to reach the hotel in the rain. I pull into the parking lot, giving it a brief scan for anything unusual. All is grey and quiet in the downpour. I reach into the console and take out the tiny pistol. It’s the size of my palm, and once I’m standing, I slide it into my jeans pocket before dashing into the lobby.

“Wahoo! You made it just in time for the hurricane party!” A tall, dark-haired male behind the desk is smiling and lively.

“Is a hurricane coming?” I glance behind me out the front doors. The black SUV is parallel parked on the street.

“Nah, it’s just a thunderstorm, but any excuse for a party, right?” He does finger guns at me. “That’s some accent. You from Louisiana?”

“Sure,” I say, looking away to inspect the run-down lobby. Not the greatest part of town.

“Well, laissez les bon temps rouler!” He sings as he steps to the computer. I smile, playing along as I reach for my fake identification. “How long you staying with us, big guy?”

“One night.” I hand over the license and credit card.

“Oh!” The guy squints at the card, and I my smile tightens. “How do you say that name? Aye-you-coin?”

“Close.” My shoulders relax, and I smile. “Oh-kwan.”

“I wasn’t close!” he laughs. Then he whispers, staring at my card. “Oh-kwan… oh-kwan…”

Holding my hand out, I cock a brow. “May I have it back?”

“Oh, sure!” He passes it across. “Room 204. Elevator’s around the corner. Enjoy your stay!”

“Thanks.”

He’s back to doing a little dance, playing on his phone, and I slip around the corner. The room I’m searching for is on the second floor, but it’s on the other side of the hotel. I head straight down the empty hall, noting the faded carpets and peeling wallpaper.

“I’m en route,” I say softly at my wrist, my eyes trained on the corner up ahead.

I haven’t passed anyone in the hall, and I can only guess it’s because of the unfashionable location or the poor weather—or both.

Around the corner, I stop as a blast of damp, warm air hits me. Keeping my back against the wall, I look down to see the exterior door is cracked, letting the rain and humid wind stream through the opening.

A quick glance to my right, and I see the room in question. My pulse ticks faster.

“I need backup,” I say quietly in my watch. “Enter from the pool area. The back door is open.”

A light thump from my watch tells me they’re on the way. I fish out the small gun from my pocket and slowly creep down the shadowy hall. A flash of lightning makes me realize the power is out in the hotel, or at least in this wing.

Crossing quickly, I press my back against the opposite wall, on the same side as my destination. I have my gun against my chest, and I slide my hand out, testing the doorknob. It falls open easily.

“Shit,” I say so quietly, it’s not even a breath. I look to my right again. Come on, guys.

I’m standing at the last known whereabouts of Helen Regis, and I’m not about to enter until Logan and Freddie are in sight. No telling what I might walk into. Freddie is as tall as me, but a bit leaner, faster. Logan is both taller and beefier. They’re the perfect combination in situations like this.

The soft noise of the exterior door opening makes me tense until my partners dash up, shaking water from their clothes. Nodding, I hold a finger to my lips before pointing to the door. Freddie takes the opposite wall, and Logan is right beside me.

Stretching out my leg, I kick it open, and Freddie points his gun straight ahead. Everything freezes.

I hold my breath, waiting, and…

Nothing.

Silence greets us from inside. A low rumble of thunder fills the quiet as we start to breathe again.