Living With the Dead (Otherworld 9)

"She didn't see your face, not from this angle. You had your back to her. What she saw was me... and a lot of blood."

"Shit! She must have panicked and - " Hope shook her head. "No, not Robyn. She doesn't rattle that easily."

Karl said nothing, but his expression disagreed. The old Robyn would have seen blood and marched over to help. But she hadn't been herself since Damon's death. After witnessing two murders, had seeing Karl covered in blood been too much?

Or had something caught her attention? Lured her away?

Karl followed her trail. This time, it didn't cling to the shadows. She'd made a beeline for the road, crossed to a gas station and headed into a phone booth.

"It ends here," Karl said, crouched in the lot.

"She called a cab."

"That would be my guess."

"So she sees you bleeding, finds the nearest phone booth and calls a cab... Where? Back to the motel?"

Hope checked her cell. No missed calls. Maybe Robyn had run out of change and decided to call from the motel.

She hoped so. Otherwise, she had no idea where her friend had gone.

When they arrived at the motel, Hope leapt from the car while Karl was still parking it. A cleaning woman near their motel room shrank back behind her cart, then relaxed as Hope pulled out her key, as if the cleaner had thought she was racing over to demand extra towels.

Hope opened the door. Their room w

as empty.

She remembered the cleaning woman. Had she been in here? Hope had told her to come after three, so she could get Robyn out first.

"Excuse me!" she called as she hurried back outside.

The cleaning woman's shoulders tightened, but she didn't turn, as if praying Hope wasn't hailing her.

Hope jogged up beside her. "The room looks great. I just wanted to give you this."

Hope passed her a five. She looked at it, still in Hope's outstretched hand, her sunken eyes wary.

"Really, thanks," Hope said. "I appreciate you coming later for us."

The woman took the money.

"Oh, and before you go. Did you see another woman in my room? My friend was supposed to meet us there."

"Friend... ?" She shook her head. "English no good."

Hope switched to Spanish and repeated the question as best she could, though her Spanish was probably worse than the woman's English. Karl came up behind and took over. His international jobs meant he had a working knowledge of about a half-dozen languages.

Karl translated on the fly. There had been someone in their room when the cleaner arrived. A young woman with shoulder-length blond hair, who'd left right after the cleaner arrived. She'd seen her get into a cab a few minutes later.

Hope thanked her. As the woman pushed her cart away, Hope checked her watch. It was 3:15. "Fifteen minutes to clean our room? I think I overtipped." They headed back toward their door. "But I guess that means I can relax. Wherever Rob went, she won't expect the cleaning to be done for a while, so I'll take advantage of the wait and make a few calls."

As Karl opened the door, Hope noticed the light on the bedside phone blinking. "Oh, we have a message. Let's hope it's Robyn."

It was. And she was calling to explain where she'd gone. But it wasn't "to the corner for a coffee."

* * *

ROBYN