I shifted in my chair so my back would be to the sidewalk. Simon pulled out his smartphone and bent his head over the display. Temi continued to sip her tea, the sunglasses hiding her eyes.
“You might want to sneak a peek when they pass,” she murmured. “They’re… unusual.”
“How so? Aside from their matching caps?”
“Handsome, but there’s something…” Temi’s face shifted toward a woman sitting on the porch with a laptop and her dog.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. The Harley pair came into view, still wearing their black leather pants and jackets as well as the caps. I made a show of studying my phone, too, though tried my best to sneak that peek Temi had suggested. They strode by without speaking, and I didn’t glimpse more than the sides of their faces. Elegant was the word that came to my mind, both for their features and their movement. I had a hard time putting a finger on anything distinct, but Temi was right. They were an unusual pair.
Fortunately, they walked past without any glances to the side. None of us moved until they’d crossed the intersection toward Courthouse Square. Then Simon pushed back his chair, stirring the fallen leaves dusting the patio.
“Time to visit that vacated room.”
“Temi,” I said, “I don’t suppose you’d like to inquire about lodgings while Simon here asks to use the restroom?” I’d help him get in to snoop around, but I wasn’t going to break down any doors for him. He’d have to figure that out on his own.
“It depends.” Temi rose from the table. “Have I been hired yet?”
“Yes,” Simon said.
I lifted a hand. “We’re going to discuss it. It’d be more like some kind of profit-sharing gig though. We don’t make enough to have salaried employees.” I thought about adding that she probably wouldn’t earn enough to cover the insurance payment on that car every month, but Simon was already jogging up the street.
“Perhaps a trial period then?” Temi asked.
“We’ll see.”
I hustled after Simon and up the steps onto a colonial-style porch with white columns at each corner. There was a balcony in a similar style above us. I wasn’t sure how old the building was, though I seemed to remember some trivia about most of Prescott burning in a fire in the early 1900s, but it had that quaint historic feel to it. When we entered the hotel, there were a few people sipping drinks at the small bar to the left, laughing and smiling as they chatted with the bartender and each other. There wasn’t anyone standing behind the reception desk on the other side of the foyer. To the right of the desk, a set of stairs led up to the second level.
I waved Temi toward the bar. All I wanted was for her to block the bartender’s view as we headed for the stairs, but for verisimilitude I added, “Want to order us a couple of drinks?”
She waved back. Her six feet in height proved adequate for blocking views, so Simon and I slipped over to the carpeted stairs and climbed to the second floor. Despite having knowledge of the resident ghost, I’d never been inside the building. It only had about thirty rooms, though, so it wasn’t hard to find the one that matched up to that corner window.
The hotel had old-fashioned locks instead of key-card deals, so I tried the knob, not expecting it to open. To my surprise, it did. I would have opened it carefully, peeking in to make sure nobody waited inside-and that the room wasn’t full of bodies or tools for turning people into bodies-but Simon lacked my patience. He brushed past me and pushed through the doorway.
The room held a quilted double bed with nightstands, a dresser with a television, an armchair, and a door leading to a bathroom, not much more. If there was a metal detector or anything larger than the pair of messenger bags on the bed, it wasn’t apparent. That didn’t keep Simon from stalking about and flopping to his belly on the floor in search of his Dirt Viper. I headed for the window, so I could watch for the return of our motorcycle men. I should have given Temi my phone number so she could text me if they walked in the front door or if any other trouble headed our way. Obviously I needed more practice at acts of espionage.
“Nothing.” Simon climbed to his feet. “What could they have done with it?” He opened the drawer in one of the bedside tables.
I snorted. “Unless that metal detector had a secret folding option you never showed me, it’s not going to be in a drawer.”
“I know that, but maybe there’s other evidence. Like a picture of them standing beside my Dirt Viper like a fisherman holding up his prize catch.”
“You’re attributing entirely too much value to that metal detector.”
“Nothing in here except a bible. I’ll check the bathroom. Maybe they were showering with it.”
“Kinky,” I remarked and, for no reason other than curiosity, opened the drawer on the bedside table closest to me. A soft golden glow emanated from within. “Uh.”
“What is it?” Simon almost knocked me over in his haste to peer inside.
“Not a bible,” I said, my voice on the squeaky side. The glow was coming from a golden disk about three times the diameter of a silver dollar. I wasn’t a numismatics expert, but I’d seen a lot of old coins since we’d started our business, and I hadn’t seen anything like this. I’d studied four ancient languages in school, in addition to modern Greek, and the runes weren’t anything familiar. The picture in the center looked like a brain. Given the decapitated man we’d left in the mine, that disturbed me more than it might in other circumstances. The glowing aspect of the coin was slightly disturbing too. Still, I couldn’t take my eyes from it, and my interest in these Harley riders tripled. Was this some ancient artifact they’d unearthed? Something with historical or cultural significance?
“I’ll say.” Simon poked a finger into the drawer, as if to pick up the coin, but he pulled it out again without touching it. “How did they make it glow? There’s no such thing as radioactive coins, is there?”
“Some sort of… tritium or phosphorescent application? Like they use for watches? I’ve never heard of coins treated with that though.”
Simon pulled his phone out to take a picture. This time I didn’t object. This would be perfect for the blog, especially if it turned out to be something old instead of some modern gewgaw created for… well, I had no idea, but the idea of researching it intrigued me.
I was about to check the window again when my own phone chirped. Text message. I didn’t recognize the number but the, “GET OUT!!!” was easy enough to understand.
“Come on,” I whispered and shoved the drawer shut. “We have to-”
The door swung inward.
CHAPTER 5
The two men stood in the doorway, their jaws slack, seemingly as surprised to see us as we were to see them. Actually, I wasn’t so much surprised as chagrinned.
“Room service,” I announced. “We thought you’d left for dinner, so we came to tidy your room.” Oh, yeah, they were totally going to believe that. If we weren’t standing next to the window on the far side of the bed, I’d try charging past them to see if we could escape before their reflexes caught up to us, but vaulting over the furniture to reach the door would give them time to react.
“Pardon?” one asked. A little slighter and shorter than his comrade, he seemed the younger of the two, and didn’t look like he needed to shave often. He blinked a few times, as if he might believe me. His deep green-blue eyes reminded me of an alpine lake I’d hiked to in the Rockies once. A few tufts of blond hair had escaped his black cap and hinted of a boyish tousled style.
The other fellow… There was nothing boyish about him, though he didn’t look like he needed to shave often either. Beneath his black leather jacket, he wore a dark gray T-shirt that fitted his torso and had a deep V-neck that promised defined pectoral muscles. He was lean rather than bulky, but his outfit along with his cold stare reminded me of Schwarzenegger in the Terminator movies. He didn’t look like he believed us.