The Truth of Yesterday (13 page)

Chapter 6

     
Wow
. That was about the most coherent thought I could muster for a while
following
what had turned out to be the most amazing experience of my life. Of course, I wasn't particularly trying to be coherent; I was simply basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking.

     
Wow
, I thought again, except I must have said it out loud that second time since Micah chuckled.

     “I wish you would stay that easy to impress,” he said with soft teasing. My head was resting in the hollow between his shoulder and his neck, his arms wrapped around me, and our legs intertwined.

     “Just make me feel like that every time and I'll stay impressed,” I murmured into the soft skin at the base of his throat. His hands stroked my back gently, causing goose bumps to rise up...among other things.

     Micah laughed. “You can't be ready to go again already,” he said in mock exasperation.

     “Tell him that,” I said, trying not to blush and failing miserably.

     “Hey, I'm not complaining but I'm not as young as you are. I need a little time to recover.”

     “Oh yeah, you're so ancient. You're what, five years older than me?”

     “Something
like
that.”

     I sat up and looked down into his eyes. He was just as beautiful in the golden early-morning sunlight that was sneaking in around the curtains as he'd been in the moonlight. “Ok, old man, I'll give you time to recover. You get ten whole seconds before I ravage you. Ten, nine, eight, seven,
six
...”

     
“God!”
Micah laughed, grabbing me and pulling me down on top of him, “I've created a monster.”

     “...five, four, three...”

     “Is this what our relationship is going to become now?”

     “...two...hey, you asked for it, mister...one.” I swung my leg over him as I leaned down and cut off his retort with a deeply passionate kiss. His response was almost immediate. “See?” I breathed, “That wasn't so hard now, was it?”

     Micah choked down another laugh. “Don't you have work to do?” he asked.

     “Oh, shit!” I yelled, sitting up so suddenly the room actually spun for a second. I frantically searched the room visually for the clock, but couldn't find it at first. Finally, I realized that one of the pillows had been thrown over it at some point. I yanked it off and let out a yelp.

     “I'm late!” I squealed as I leapt up and began running aimlessly around the room searching for clothes. Micah sat up in the bed and watched me with a bemused expression.

     “Killian, calm down,” he said in a maddeningly reasonable voice.

     “Calm down?” I screeched.
“Easy for you to say.
You're not the one who probably just blew his whole case.”

     “You don't know that you've blown anything,” Micah pointed out, then with an evil grin he added, “Except me, of course.”

     I stopped in my tracks long enough to glare at him. Grin still in place, he slipped out of bed, picked up my pants and held them out to me. “You're a great detective, Killian,” he said. “If this guy is cheating you'll find out one way or another.”

     I dressed quickly and started for the door. Micah caught my arm on my way by him and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Good luck, Kill. I love you.”

     I stopped long enough to give him a real kiss goodbye. “I love you too,” I told him as I dashed out of the room.

     I took the stairs two at a time and practically burst onto the floor Knox was staying on. The hallway was completely empty. I glanced at my watch. Knox was already in the conference. I couldn't believe how much time had gone by since the alarm went off this morning. How could I have been so careless?
And after I'd promised Novak not to get distracted.
I was furious with myself.

     Suddenly, an idea began to form in my devious little mind. If Knox was busy with the conference until
noon
, now was the perfect time to search his room. The only problem was I didn't have the first clue about how to get in there.
If I could get his keycard somehow, or slip in while they were cleaning his room...
Of course, those things probably only worked in movies and books.
Novak had never given me any lessons on breaking and entering. Being a retired cop, he generally shunned such lawless tactics. I, on the other hand, had no such qualms. Whatever gets the job done; that's my motto. If only I had the know-how.

     A careful perusal of the hall showed me to be alone, so I approached Knox's room to get a better look at the door. It pretty much looked tamper-proof, at least to my amateur eyes. I wondered how anyone broke into these types of door these days. They must have some sort of Bond type gadget, a card that deciphers the door code or something. I tried the handle on the off-chance it was open. No such luck.

     I pressed my ear against the door, thinking that maybe the cleaning lady was in there and I could convince her this was my room and I'd locked my card inside. To my complete and utter surprise, I felt it swing open as soon as my ear touched the cold surface and I almost stumbled into a woman wearing a white fluffy robe on the other side of the door. I straightened up quickly and tried desperately to think of some excuse. Why didn't I have one ready like Novak had told me?

     “Hang on,” the brassy blonde barked into the cell phone she had pressed against one ear. “Do you work here?” she demanded in a high-pitched whine.

     “Yes,” I said, thrilled that she'd saved me the trouble of coming up with a cover story. I took a closer look at her. If she was in a bathrobe, she probably wasn't on the cleaning staff. It looked like this was the proof I needed that Knox was cheating on his wife. I'd met Mrs. Knox and this, quite definitely, was not her. This woman had to be his mistress, but I needed to be sure.

     “Well for
Chris
t sake, do something!” she shrilled.

     “Um, what exactly do you need?” I said hesitantly while my mind ran ahead full-tilt.

     She heaved a monumental sigh meant to express her dissatisfaction with the service. It succeeded in ruffling my hair and alerting me to the fact that she hadn't yet brushed her teeth this morning.

     “I told them down at the front desk that the damn toilet was overflowing. Now will you quit standing there like a dolt and do something.”

     “Um, I'm not the plumber,” I said, thinking quickly. “He's been called. They just sent me up to see if I could help with anything. Want me to take a look?”

     “I want you to do something!”

     I stepped around her and started for the bathroom while she trailed after me grumbling into the phone. “I swear, as nice as this place looks you'd think they'd have better help.”

     “Did this start after your husband left?” I asked casually.

     “Ha!” she snarled into the phone. “He wants to know if it started after my husband left.” Then to me, “I don't
have
a husband.”

     “Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed that the man who rented the room...” The toilet was indeed overflowing. A small lake had formed on the tiled bathroom floor and had started to seep by the dam of towels she'd piled in the doorway. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do now that I was here.

     “He's not my husband,” she informed me. “And no, it didn't start after the bastard left, it started before. He just left me to deal with it. Now you deal with it.” She turned away and continued with her conversation on the phone while I made a show of stepping gingerly into the water and wiggling the handle on the commode.
Niagara Falls
kept flowing.  “I know!” she was saying in response to something the person on the other end of the line had said. “He's married alright, but not to me. Oh no! I don't have the moneybags his missus has, the bitch. You know, I don't know why I'm so stupid. I've been putting up with him for two years now; putting up with his sudden calls asking me to meet him for a weekend, putting up with him sneaking me in and out of his rooms while he's gone, putting up with not seeing him for weeks at a time, knowing that he's with her. But do you think he ever does anything for me? No! I'm just the other woman. I'm just supposed to come running whenever he calls. I'm just supposed to sit around waiting for him to come back. I'm just supposed to deal with the fucking toilet when it overflows while he runs off to his little conference. I can't even have him for one day! Is that too much to ask? Is it?”

     There was a pause and then, “You're damn right it's not fair!” she shrieked. “I'm still an attractive woman. I could find someone else, someone who'd marry me. Hey, why aren't you doing anything?”

     It took me a second to realize that last bellow was directed at me. “I think we should wait for the plumber,” I suggested.

     “Then what the fuck are you doing here? What good are you? And why aren't you in uniform?”

     She was just noticing that now? Oh well, I'd gotten what I needed, more than I needed actually. I was more than ready to make my exit. “You called so early I didn't have time to get my uniform on,” I said glibly. She gave me a confused look as she tried to work that one out. “Why don't I go see if that plumber is here yet?” I said quickly and made a bee-line for the door.

     The elevator doors were opening just as I passed. I glanced in at a hotel staff member with a plumber in tow. I felt a rush of adrenaline as I realized how close that had been. I trotted down the stairs and arrived at our room feeling flushed with the pleasure of my accomplishment. I let myself into the room to find a rather surprised Micah sitting up in bed, clutching the sheet to his chest, his eyes large and round.

     “Killian,” he gasped, dropping the sheet to reveal the fact that he was naked as the day he was born. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were the cleaning lady or something and here I am still naked.”

     “Sorry,” I said, although somewhat unconvincingly on account of the giggles.

     “You certainly seem to be in a better mood,” he observed.

     “I should be. I just closed the case!”

     “What? That's great!” He jumped up and grabbed me in a huge bear hug. “I told you you're a great detective.”