CHAPTER TEN
Ella swiped the keycard beside the hotel room door. She turned to Paige, who was dragging a weighty suitcase along the carpeted hallway. Ella had offered to help but Paige had insisted she was fine. They were staying at the Cravenwood Hotel, a family-run little place that was only five-minute walk from the Lancaster precinct. The smaller hotels always felt safer because the staff were more vigilant and observant. They questioned everyone that came in, unlike the franchise hotels that just let any random soul walk their hallways.
“You know the drill?” Ella asked.
“I think so. Meet at 8am?”
“Thereabouts. If you want room service or mini bar, we get a ninety-dollars budget per day. Just don’t get sloshed.”
Paige laughed. “No risk there. I don’t drink.”
“You don’t? I’m surprised.”
Ella wasn’t used to this. When it came to drinking, Ripley used to push her ninety-dollar limit right to the threshold. Sometimes she’d utilize Ella’s surplus allowance too.
“No, I just do cocaine. It’s quicker.”
Ella pushed open the door and threw her bag inside. It took her a second to realize Paige was kidding.
“Time is money,” Ella agreed. “If you need anything, just knock on my door or call me. I’ll probably be up a while too.”
The agents nodded their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Ella inspected what would be her residence for the foreseeable future, and for a moment was convinced she’d stayed in this exact room before. The past two weeks had been a blur of hotel rooms, unfamiliar beds, and twisted minds, and for the first time since she’d started this job she began to crave an existence that wasn’t typified by senseless murder.
Ripley had continuously discussed the hardships of this profession, but Ella had always chalked it up to Ripley’s tough-as-old-boots persona doing the talking. How could anyone not love this job? Ella once thought. You were the hero people wished they could be. You got to live the movie star lifestyle but every stunt you performed was real. If you died in the line of duty, you went out in a blaze of glory, memorialized with a grand tombstone that professed your heroism and valor. And if you survived, there was a fat pension waiting on the other side. This was the job dreams were made of, surely.
But were the sacrifices worth it? She might save a thousand lives, but she’d spend the entire time looking over her own shoulder, fearing that every shadow might house a knife-wielding predator ready to cut her down. At what point did heroism become foolishness?
She lay on the bed and mulled the thought over. It only took her a few minutes to determine that yes, the sacrifices were worth it. If she had to struggle to ensure the well-being of innocent people, then that was what she signed up for.
Ella sat up and threw off her boots. She kneaded her toes, cracking some of the joints, and wondered if all of her troubles would disappear if she just had a good foot massage. She barefooted her way to the nightstand and picked up the hotel introductory letter. Handwritten.
Ella April Dark, your stay at Cravenwood Hotels is very important to us. Attached you’ll find the relevant contact details for local establishments to make your stay here as pleasurable as possible. If you have any queries, please dial 0.
Then a loud knock at her door. She dropped the letter.
“Hello?” she called.
Ella stepped closer to the door and peered through the spyhole. No one on the other side.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened. She’d experienced the same thing the last time she stayed in a hotel outside D.C.
Ella grabbed her pistol and rushed out into the corridor. She checked both sides, finding nothing that suggested there’d been life here a moment ago. No lingering scents, no footprints in the carpet.
Maybe it was Paige making noise across the way. Maybe it was the room next door. Just as she sheathed her weapon, one of the hotel clerks appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Everything okay, miss?” the young woman asked.
“Yes, thank you. Did you see anyone here a moment ago?” Ella asked.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“Maybe.”
“I see. No, sorry miss. No one’s been up here. Only you and your friend are staying on this floor. We get a lot of cops staying here with the precinct being so close. Cops get priority up here.”
“Okay, I understand,” Ella said and made her way back into her room. She picked up the little handwritten welcome note and examined it again.
Ella April Dark.