“Just here to the elevator. Our focus is on Mister Melendez.” He handed her a key card. “You’ll be in room five. Go there and wait.”
“You don’t need to escort me?” she asked, wondering why she had so much free rein. She glanced up at Leopold. His eyes bored through her. It made her a little uncomfortable.
He shook his head. “The floor is mostly empty; it’s just us and a housekeeper. But don’t bother with her if you need something. Make any requests through either me or Jerome.”
“Same housekeeper for the entire weekend?”
“She passed our security background checks, but you need to leave her alone. The less contact with hotel staff, the better. Mostly, if she remains invisible, it means she’s doing her job correctly. Usually there would be a cook and housekeeping staff, drivers, along with nannies and teachers if the client has a family. That’s the good thing about being employed by a single man. Staffing is limited.” Leopold smiled at her. “No high-maintenance women to watch over.”
She grinned back. “You’ve just met me.”
They reached the seventh floor of the hotel. There were only four suite doors along the hallway, two rooms at each side of the elevator, just around the corner, and stairwells at the ends of the hallway. She wondered which was Jack’s. Two other doors, closets perhaps. A young woman in a housekeeper’s uniform appeared from within one of them. She noticed them and smiled, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Hi,” June said as she got close.
The smile broadened. “Hello, Miss Kato.”
June shook hands with her. Strong grip, toned arms. She looked as though she was a few years from seeing thirty, skin dark and even. “Call me June. Are you the housekeeper for the weekend?”
“Yes, ma’am. If you need anything, please ask. I’ll be in room seven.”
“I should be fine, thanks. Just don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ What’s your name?”
“Miss Mercado.”
She seemed nervous, so June let her go. She hurried away in the opposite direction to June’s room.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Leopold said, turning to leave. “I’m needed downstairs.”
“Thanks”
He left. As she walked to her room, June noticed something peculiar about the stairwell doors, some sort of X-shaped bars across them, blocking entry. Probably a safety precaution.
June went into her room, pulling the door closed behind her. Her jaw nearly hit the carpet. Her suite was huge, almost as big as her entire house. She had two bedrooms, two complete bathrooms, a kitchenette, and a full-sized living room with couches, easy chairs, a dining table, and a flatscreen mounted on the wall. The suite was neat and tidy, scrubbed clean, but still cozy. The bed looked inviting. If she hadn’t been meeting up with Jack in a few minutes, she could easily have flopped down in the bed and settled in for an early night.
True enough, her bag had got to her room safe and sound. Not only that, her clothes were hanging up in the closet or arranged in drawers. Her toiletries were on the bathroom counter, neatly arranged. Several bottles of water on the counter top.
June took off her clothes and climbed in the shower. Once she was out, she put on the thick hotel robe and flopped down on the bed with her phone. It had a soft downy cushion to it, and June made the mental note to get the brand name so she could buy one for herself at home. She felt her eyelids droop.
Here – so far so good. She sent a text message to Amy.
And? Amy replied quickly.
Tell you in the morning.
She slid the phone aside and stretched her arms over her head with a yawn. Pulling the bedspread partly over her, she punched a dent into the pillow and settled her head down.
***
The dreams came quickly. The smell of electrocautery, a sour barbecue stink. A wisp of smoke, like a cigarette burning. There was confusion, noise. Someone asking her something.
“Doctor Kato, are you ready?”
She looked up. The senior surgeon, her trainer, stared at her.
“Just call me June. But yes, I guess so,” she said. The surgeon seemed familiar, but she wasn’t sure why, or who. “What instrument do I use first?”
“The scalpel. But you need to put your hand out so I can give it to you.”
June held out her hand and he slapped a sharp surgical knife into it. “Just cut on the blue line,” he said.
June did as she was told, finding it much easier to slice through skin than she expected. Once she was down to bone, she handed the knife back again. “What about the mess?”
“Never mind about that,” the surgeon said. “You have other things to do.” He handed her a gauze sponge and an electrocautery hand piece. She used it on the patient. Wisps of smoke rose from the spots she cauterized, sealing the wounds. The more she worked, the warmer the tissue became. Once the prep work looked done, she felt over it with her hand. It was just as she remembered.