Page 39 of Talk to Me

No reading or mumbling under his breath.

Just tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Irritat—

The soft shoe of motion in the hall had me flicking a look to my door. I’d stuffed a pair of towels at the bottom to block the light from getting in. It didn’t really muffle the sounds of other guests and staff in the hall.

I didn’t want it to, either.

Other guests passed by talking and laughing. Staff called to each other or their radios went off. Their oversized carts creaked and groaned.

This footstep?

Someone was concealing it.

I set aside the gun I’d been cleaning, it was almost reassembled and screwed the suppressor on the gun I’d already finished, reloaded and had sitting on the table next to me.

The hush of the step hesitated outside my door. I pointed my gun at it as the lock ticked once.

Twice.

Then freed itself.

I had the security bar on, and the way the door opened, the only thing my visitor would be able to see is the bathroom, but I’d angled the mirrors on the closet to give me a view via the mirrors in the bathroom.

It wasn’t perfect. But the woman on the other side of the door was actually wearing a maid’s outfit. At least a facsimile of one. The colors were right, but her name tag was missing.

“Maid service.” Yeah. They tended to knock first, not just let themselves in. Especially when I had the “do not disturb” on.

“Oh, sorry,” I called as if I’d just noticed the door when it hit the limit of the security bar. “Naked in here, gimme a sec. I had the sign on.”

“My apologies, sir. I don’t see it.”

Bullshit.

I kept my steps light as I moved around the edge of the door.

“I can come back,” she offered and I nudged the closet doors so the mirrored door was tucked behind the other. She couldn’t see me and I checked via the crack at the hinged side of the door.

She had towels but only three and they were covering one of her hands.

Yeah. Not a maid.

“No, it’s fine,” I called as if careless of how close I was. She actually gave a little jerk. The dickish side of me enjoyed that. “One sec.” I pushed the door closed abruptly, and only used my left hand to unlatch it.

If she decided to shoot through the door, I didn’t want to take a hit. I had about ten seconds, maybe less to choose my course of action.

She was an assassin and she was here to scratch me off. No question. You didn’t walk into a room with a man like me with your gun drawn if you didn’t intend to use it. I could take her out as soon as she was inside, that would leave me with a body to deal with and no answers.

Alternatively, I took her down and then removed her from the hotel to somewhere quieter for interrogation. A name would be ideal to let me know who sent her.

The door opened and she pushed it all the way back, keeping me in the closet. That was fine. “My apologies again for disturbing you,” she said and I didn’t answer.

She started forward and made it just two steps. The minute the door began to close behind her, she seemed to realize her mistake.