Standing in front of the hotel, I texted a note to the Kid. Can u safely access hotel security cameras on 3 flr frm time Molly checked in to 12 hrs after? I hit SEND and got a text back while I was waiting on the return of Bitsa.
Can do. Erase text.
“Yeah,” I said softly to myself, following orders and erasing the texts. “So your brother doesn’t flay me alive for leading you to the dark side and putting your parole in jeopardy. Which, to him, would be just as bad as blowing up the planet Alderaan with the Death Star. And I’ve been living with the Kid too long if I know that geeky bit of trivia.”
“Sweet bike,” the valet said, pushing Bitsa back to me. “One of a kind?” he asked, his smile wide in a dark-skinned face. Approachable. Nice. Helpful maybe.
I patted the leather seat affectionately and used his intro. “Yeah. You know bikes?”
“I ride with a group, all black guys and sometimes a couple a’ chicks. We volunteer with the community and the local po-po. Dress up like Santas on wheels for Christmas, and take gifts to families in financial trouble. I ride a Hog, the 2013 Street Bob, but I always wanted an older model.”
I nearly gulped. A Street Bob started at thirteen thousand bucks. Being a valet made more money than I would have thought. All those cash tips, maybe. But I didn’t say any of that. “A Harley Zen master put Bitsa together from parts of two old bikes I found.”
“You ever want to sell her, you let me know.” He handed me a card, and I replaced it with a five.
“Not gonna happen,” I said. “Bitsa’s like family.”
“I can see why.”
“Hey,” I said, figuring it was now or never, “were you on night before last when three vamps left with a redheaded human woman?”
Some of the light left his eyes, to be replaced with a cagey uncertainty. “Yeah, I was. I didn’t have the keys, but I saw them leave.”
I handed him another bill, this one a ten. “Was the human upright and acting normal?”
“Standing on her own two feet. Looked pissed. Said ‘Thank you’ when the fanghead opened the door for her, but it sounded like she coulda been saying for him to, uh”—his voice dropped—“get friendly with himself, if you know what I mean.” He glanced to the side where a man in hotel livery stood, watching, listening to whatever he could hear over the distance. “She was sounding all like, you know, like she was lying and not really thanking him.” He fingered the ten. “For another one of these, I could get the plate number for you.”
“For the plate number,” I said, “I’ll give you two more.”
“We keep a log. I’ll be right back. And if my boss walks over, this is between us and off the record.”
I stepped to the side so his body was between us, pulled riding gloves out of my pocket, and gave them to him. “I’ll tell him I left the gloves on top of the saddlebags and you’re looking for them.”
He flashed me a smile, pocketed the gloves as if he did sleight of hand at kids’ parties, and disappeared. I straddled Bitsa and unzipped my jacket, turning my face to the sky. The promised warm weather was arriving with piles of gray clouds and gusty, humid wind, and I was starting to sweat under all the leather. Beast wanted to find a hot rock and lie in the sun for hours, and I felt my face try to relax as she sent me a mental picture of her muscular body stretched out and snoozing. But underneath her lazy image I knew she was pacing, as worried as I was about Molly.
“Here, ma’am.” The valet was holding out my gloves, a bit of white paper sticking out between them. I took them, handed him the promised bills, and got a brisk “Thank you, ma’am! You have a good day” in return. I texted the limo plate number to the Kid and kick-started my bike, making my way home, my heart feeling as if it weighed fifty pounds at the thought of telling Evan what I had found.
? ? ?
When I walked in the side door, Big Evan looked up and scowled. He must have been reading my body language because he puffed up and turned red and looked pretty much ticked off. I sighed and pointed to the kitchen table. Evan sent his kids to the TV room and I poured myself a cup of hot tea from a pot that someone had left on the electric tea warmer. Eli meandered in and hit START on the fancy-schmancy coffee and espresso maker I had paid for, brewing himself and Evan coffee, black and strong. Alex wandered in too, a tablet in each hand, his head bowed over them, eyes darting back and forth between them. Still silent, we all sat, which was all surreal, since no one had said anything.
Taking a fortifying gulp of slightly scorched bitter tea, I filled the small group in on Molly’s actions and her unknown whereabouts. It didn’t take long because there wasn’t much, and I wasn’t about to tell her husband how bad it might actually be.