I’ll take it.”
The manager didn’t argue. “If you insist.”
He led them to the elevator where they stood in silence waiting for the doors to open. “This way, please.”
Buck looked over at M and shrugged. Two minutes later when the elevator jolted to a halt the manager exited and moved briskly down the hall. He stopped in front of the Greens’ room.
“I thought there was a message,” Buck said.
The manager extracted a key from his pocket, opened the door then paused.
“The maid was sent up to prepare the room for guests and found this.”
With a flourish he opened the door wide and stepped to the opposite end of the short entry hall where he flipped the light switch and pointed at the wall.
“Shit,” Buck said.
M read the message aloud. “Octavio Ramos, alone this room, tonight.”
Buck stepped up to the wall. “At least it isn’t written in blood.”
He turned to the manager.
“You know the drill, nobody in or out. I’ll send an officer right over.”
Buck didn’t bother looking around for clues as he stepped back into the main hall and headed for the elevator.
M hustled in right beside him. “What does this guy want?”
He shook his head. “This could be the break we’re looking for.”
They rode down in silence, when the elevator door opened she looked up at the big clock on the lobby wall.
“Drop me off at the Lobster Pit on your way out of town, will ya?”
“I think Ramos will want you in on the plan for the night’s activities. I know I will,” Buck said.
“I can meet you at the station in a couple hours. I promised my managers lunch for taking care of business and keeping the gym open when I couldn’t.”
He held the door.
“Okay, but I’ll expect you around two.”
They drove south through town doing barely twenty, hitting red lights at both Spyglass and Pirate’s Knoll, then getting bogged down behind an RV towing an SUV.
“Tourists. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t shoot ‘em,” Buck said.
M smiled over at him, but he never took his eyes off the road.
“This would be a ghost town without them, baby,” M said with a small laugh.
He put on his blinker and turned into the parking lot in front of the Lobster Pit. “No it wouldn’t. It would turn back into a sleepy little fishing village.”
She climbed out of the cruiser and mouthed “thank you” at Buck through the rolled up window. He smiled and winked. When she turned he watched her hips sway as she walked to the restaurant. She still likes me, he thought, and began whistling the theme from Indiana Jones as he drove off.
She spotted her crew sitting in a back booth as soon as she walked through the door. Mark Lima and Andy Neal were sitting with their backs to the entrance, facing the black belt that had been with Neal when he found M. When he shot to his feet, Mark and Andy knew it was M, and stepped out of the booth.
“I’d like to give each of you a big hug,” M said. “But as Andy can attest, it would be very painful.”
As the three of them climbed in one side of the booth, no one laughed. The conversation ranged from her recovery to the new equipment she had ordered.
“I feel like I’ve lost a day, but the weight machines should be here tomorrow.” She sipped from her water. Her appetite still hadn’t returned.
Andy picked up his water glass and held it over the center of the table “A toast.” The others put down their forks and picked up their water, clinking glasses. “To the best employer, instructor and friend. M, to your health.”
She kept her glass up. “And to the best staff,” she smiled at Big Jake, “and student.”
Again they clinked glasses, this time drinking.
A few minutes later, Mark put down his fork and leaned against the backrest. “I’m stuffed.”
The waitress began picking up the plates, putting them in the now empty bucket. “You sure made short work of that,” she said. “Anything else?”
M gave each one a look, which was returned with a
The manager didn’t argue. “If you insist.”
He led them to the elevator where they stood in silence waiting for the doors to open. “This way, please.”
Buck looked over at M and shrugged. Two minutes later when the elevator jolted to a halt the manager exited and moved briskly down the hall. He stopped in front of the Greens’ room.
“I thought there was a message,” Buck said.
The manager extracted a key from his pocket, opened the door then paused.
“The maid was sent up to prepare the room for guests and found this.”
With a flourish he opened the door wide and stepped to the opposite end of the short entry hall where he flipped the light switch and pointed at the wall.
“Shit,” Buck said.
M read the message aloud. “Octavio Ramos, alone this room, tonight.”
Buck stepped up to the wall. “At least it isn’t written in blood.”
He turned to the manager.
“You know the drill, nobody in or out. I’ll send an officer right over.”
Buck didn’t bother looking around for clues as he stepped back into the main hall and headed for the elevator.
M hustled in right beside him. “What does this guy want?”
He shook his head. “This could be the break we’re looking for.”
They rode down in silence, when the elevator door opened she looked up at the big clock on the lobby wall.
“Drop me off at the Lobster Pit on your way out of town, will ya?”
“I think Ramos will want you in on the plan for the night’s activities. I know I will,” Buck said.
“I can meet you at the station in a couple hours. I promised my managers lunch for taking care of business and keeping the gym open when I couldn’t.”
He held the door.
“Okay, but I’ll expect you around two.”
They drove south through town doing barely twenty, hitting red lights at both Spyglass and Pirate’s Knoll, then getting bogged down behind an RV towing an SUV.
“Tourists. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t shoot ‘em,” Buck said.
M smiled over at him, but he never took his eyes off the road.
“This would be a ghost town without them, baby,” M said with a small laugh.
He put on his blinker and turned into the parking lot in front of the Lobster Pit. “No it wouldn’t. It would turn back into a sleepy little fishing village.”
She climbed out of the cruiser and mouthed “thank you” at Buck through the rolled up window. He smiled and winked. When she turned he watched her hips sway as she walked to the restaurant. She still likes me, he thought, and began whistling the theme from Indiana Jones as he drove off.
She spotted her crew sitting in a back booth as soon as she walked through the door. Mark Lima and Andy Neal were sitting with their backs to the entrance, facing the black belt that had been with Neal when he found M. When he shot to his feet, Mark and Andy knew it was M, and stepped out of the booth.
“I’d like to give each of you a big hug,” M said. “But as Andy can attest, it would be very painful.”
As the three of them climbed in one side of the booth, no one laughed. The conversation ranged from her recovery to the new equipment she had ordered.
“I feel like I’ve lost a day, but the weight machines should be here tomorrow.” She sipped from her water. Her appetite still hadn’t returned.
Andy picked up his water glass and held it over the center of the table “A toast.” The others put down their forks and picked up their water, clinking glasses. “To the best employer, instructor and friend. M, to your health.”
She kept her glass up. “And to the best staff,” she smiled at Big Jake, “and student.”
Again they clinked glasses, this time drinking.
A few minutes later, Mark put down his fork and leaned against the backrest. “I’m stuffed.”
The waitress began picking up the plates, putting them in the now empty bucket. “You sure made short work of that,” she said. “Anything else?”
M gave each one a look, which was returned with a
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