The Monuments Men Murders (The Art of Murder 4)

“Hey! Hi there! Welcome to the Big Sky Motor Lodge. What can I do you for?”

“Do you have a guest by the name of Hans de Haan staying with you?”

The kid’s freckled brow wrinkled. “The German guy?”

“Dutch. Is he still staying here?”

“Uh, I think so. I just got on duty.”

Jason showed his ID. “Can you ring his room, please?”

The clerk goggled over his ID and threw Jason a worried look. “Uh, sure. What did he do?”

“This is just a welfare check,” Jason said, as if the FBI went around verifying health and safety as part of their everyday duties.

“Sure, sure.” The kid picked up the phone and dialed de Haan’s room. Jason could hear ringing on the other end. He watched the kid glance uneasily out the front window at the row of upper-story rooms.

“I don’t think he’s in,” the kid said.

“His car’s in the parking lot.”

“Oh. Well, maybe he…” The kid trailed off at Jason’s expression.

“I think we should check on him,” Jason said.

“You do?”

Jason nodded.

The desk clerk replaced the handset reluctantly. “Maybe I should call my manager.”

“You can call your manager after we check on your guest.”

“Okay.”

“Now would be good,” Jason prompted.

“Right. Okay.” The kid slid open a drawer, removed a key, and proceeded Jason out into the blinding sunlight. They crossed the parking lot and went up the steps to the second level.

Jason noted the security camera positioned under the eaves at the end of the walkway.

“Does that work?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s just supposed to be a deterrent.”

“It would be more of a deterrent if it actually worked.”

The clerk had no response. They continued, footsteps thumping hollowly, down the walkway to room 224.

The drapes were drawn across the front window. The room’s air conditioner hummed noisily. A Do not Disturb placard hung on the door.

“Oh,” said the clerk hopefully. “Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

Jason ignored him. He thumped on the dingy orange door—an official side of the fist bang to the face of the door. The Do Not Disturb fell off the knob and landed at their feet.

No response from within de Haan’s room, but the maid doing the next room hastily rolled her cart down the open walkway, where she watched nervously from a safe distance.

“Maybe he’s not in there,” the kid said. “Maybe he walked out to grab some lunch.”