Ratio(49)
“So much for security,” she muttered to herself. She patted her pockets and found her key card. Closing the door behind her, she looked both ways down the hallway. Deserted. Both stairwell doors were still secured. The elevator was just out of sight around the corner. She walked over to her own suite, opened the door.
“Hello?” she called out. “Housekeeping?”
She was alone in her room. Pacing over to the entertainment center, she found an album she liked and hit play. She found her purse and checked for the pendant Amy had given her. It was exactly where she left it.
Removing her clothes as she walked, she tossed them onto her unused bed and went for a shower. She noticed the bathroom had been tidied, her clothes from the day before cleaned, pressed, and hung in the closet. After her shower, she wrapped in a towel and checked her phone for messages. Nothing.
She blow-dried her hair and grabbed something to eat from the refrigerator. An apple clenched in her teeth, she went back to the bedroom to dress. With no idea of what the plans were for the day, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt, with a colorful vest over the top. A pair of soft cotton socks felt good on her cold feet.
The ventilation duct next to the kitchenette rattled as the system kicked on. June gave the grate a swat with her hand and walked past. Rubbing her arms for warmth, she went back to the bathroom and turned on the small wall heater. Waiting for it to warm up, she looked in the mirror. The easy morning of lounging in bed had done her good, along with the long hot shower.
“Doctor Kato?” a voice came from somewhere in the suite.
June peeked her head through the door. A man stood in the living room. Hispanic, dark skinned and dark haired. She couldn’t place his age. He was dressed in a Real Madrid soccer shirt and jeans, red baseball cap, a carrier bag in one hand.
“Who the hell are you?” June said. “Another security guard?”
“What’s the matter, you don’t recognize me?” Something in the voice was familiar.
June’s eyes focused. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Surprise.” Jack Melendez’s trademark grin. “You like the new look?”
“Jack, what the hell?” She flopped down on the bed.
He sat down next to her. “How about we go out for a walk. Get out of this place for a while?”
June looked up at him. “Seriously? We can go out? How many of your thugs are joining us?”
“Solo dos de nosotros,” he said. Just the two of us. Other than on one occasion, several years before when he was addressing the Mexican community in Los Angeles, it was the first she had heard him speak Spanish.
“This isn’t a good look for you,” she said back.
“Medida temporal, Señorita. Viene conmigo?”
“It better be temporary. You look like an idiot.” June sat up on the bed. “But what’s going on? I thought we couldn’t go out unless they had a field trip organized for us?”
“It’s a nice day and I told them we wanted to go out. Jerome agreed it was a reasonable excuse for him to scope out some of the areas near the convention center. I’ve got some clothes for you too.”
June glanced at the bag he had in his hand, afraid of what they may have dreamed up for her. “Which is?”
“A gift from Leopold. I think he really gets your sense of style.”
She opened the bag and pulled out a shirt, holding it up. It was a Hello Kitty T-shirt, but with a twist.
Jack smiled. “Evidently, he found it in some urban wear shop up the street somewhere.”
She sighed. “Yeah, well, ordinarily Hello Kitty isn’t my style, but Hello Kitty with a Mohawk and tats makes a statement somehow. And if it gets us out of this prison for a while, I’d wear almost anything, even Urban Gangsta Kitty.”
She took off her vest and slipped the new shirt over her top. Looking in a hallway mirror, she tried the double shirt arrangement tucked into her pants and untucked for the best look. She had a hard time with it.
“The thing is, you’ll have to keep it on no matter what,” Jack called out.
“Oh?”
“There’s a tiny tracking chip in the tag. I have one too. They gave me a cell phone to use if we need it.” He slipped it out of his pocket and showed her.
“I can bring my own, Jack.”
“No. This has a panic button. Dial one-six-one-eight and they get a panic signal and our location.”
“One-point-six-one-eight,” June said. “Phi, the Golden Ratio again?”
Jack nodded. “Sort of our little theme for this trip, isn’t it? They thought it would be easy for us to remember but almost impossible to accidentally dial.”