They were going to pay for laying a finger on her.
I checked my watch. I had forty-five minutes before the drop. I had to haul ass to my apartment. As soon as I got there, I threw the extra cash in a large manila envelope and put the envelope in a backpack. I looked around the room, and my eyes landed on a GoPro that Kyle had convinced me to buy for our last ski trip out to Colorado. I hadn’t touched the thing since, but my mind started to work out a possible way to turn this situation around to my favor.
There was a reason I took a taxi to the Hotel Casablanca, and it wasn’t just to get there in time to make the drop. As we pulled up outside, I handed the guy a hundred-dollar bill and the GoPro. “There’s another two hundred in it for you if you go around the block and then park back here with your sign off. Put this camera on your dash and aim it at the hotel entrance. Make sure I can see the street outside too. As soon as I see what I need to see, I’ll be back to give you the rest.”
“Okay, man,” the driver said suddenly alert at the prospect of a fat fare.
I got out of the taxi and walked up to the hotel’s entrance. Needless to say, the Hotel Casablanca had seen better days. I had an idea of the kind of clientele the place probably specialized in, and it was the seedier crowd. Not that I was surprised. The front desk staff would be easily bought for the right kind of money. Ransom cash probably wasn’t the only kind of illegal traffic being sent through the hotel.
The man behind the counter looked bored as I walked up. He was barely older than a kid. His pupils were dilated. He was high. I set the backpack down on the counter. “Delivery for Bob Smith,” I said. I wanted to reach across the counter and deck the kid, drag him in the back and ask him what he knew about the lowlife who had Lex. But I held it together. This was all part of my plan.
He pulled the backpack off the counter and dropped it next to his feet without another word. I spun around and dug my hands into the jacket. The taxi was gone from the curb when I walked out. I hoped to shit the promise of more money made sure the guy came back. I started to trudge down the block and just as I reached the corner, I saw the taxi pass by me.
I yanked my phone out of my pocket and opened up the GoPro app on my phone. I was relieved to see that it was already sending a feed. I watched as the taxi slid up to the entrance of the hotel and parked. There was a small deli a half a block away that I had noticed on the way to the hotel. I slipped inside and ordered a small coffee before sitting at a table as far away from the window as possible. I couldn’t get too far away, or I’d be out of range for the camera to transmit back to me.
Luckily, it appeared that I didn’t need to wait long. I saw on the screen a guy with longish black hair dressed in a leather jacket and jeans walk out of the hotel with my backpack in hand. He turned in the opposite direction before starting to walk. He glanced furtively around, clearly looking to see if anyone was following him.
I got up out of my seat and made my way to the door. I stepped out on the sidewalk and looked back in the direction of the hotel. I could see the man moving away at a fast clip. I moved as quickly as I dared back toward the hotel. I saw the man’s head turn out of sight on the far block, and I swore. I sprinted up to the taxi at the curb and slid in the back.
The taxi driver began to protest before he saw it was me. I threw up the two hundred dollar bills into view. “Head to the stoplight, and take a left. Take it slow, and turn your sign on like you’re looking for a new fare.”
The man didn’t protest but did as I asked. As we pulled around onto the next block, I saw the backpack on the shoulder of the man I was tracking. He was already crossing onto the next block. It seemed as if my tail worked perfectly for several blocks as the taxi would get stopped at a light which gave the man just enough room to move onto the next block.
Then he crossed a block and took another left out my sight line. “Pull off to the curb at the end of the next block,” I told the driver. As soon as the taxi slowed to a stop, I handed the money to him. “Thanks, man,” I said.
As I slid out of the car, I heard him call back to me. “Sir, the camera?”
“Keep it,” I said over my shoulder. I didn’t care about the camera. All I cared about was finding Lex.