Page 76 of The Strike Zone

“A bird?” I repeated.

“Yes, a seagull or something. Anyway, it’s massive and crapped everywhere. I walked in, it started flapping, I screamed and ran out. And now I’m here.”

My body might have woken the second I’d spotted Scout sitting on the floor, but my brain was still struggling to catch up.

“Did you say housekeeping was coming?”

She nodded. “Yeah, but that was…” She glanced at her phone. “Twenty minutes ago.”

“Did you go back in?”

“No way. I called them from my cell, and I called the travel team, but no one’s answered. I guess everyone is asleep.”

Taking a deep breath, I held my hand out before I could decide whether what I was about to do was really fucking dumb, or the best idea I’d ever had.

“This is my key, I’m next door. Go and take your stuff in there and give me your key.”

“Parker…” She frowned. “We’re not swapping rooms.”

I shook my head. “No, but we need to get rid of the bird before we make any decisions, and housekeeping hasn’t arrived yet. Give me your key,” I repeated.

Placing it in my hand, she swapped them out, though the expression on her face never changed. It still told me she thought I was nuts.

A possibility.

“I’ll be a couple of minutes,” I told her. “Go on, go next door. If you’re going to sit down, at least make it a couch. Leave the latch on for me to get in.”

“Okay.” She picked up her bag, hoisted it over her shoulder, and trundled a couple of yards down to my room, giving me one final look before entering.

I swiped the key over her lock and carefully pushed open the door. The light was still on from when she’d entered earlier, the drapes at the end of her room flapped from the swirl of air, and there on the bed, where she said it had been, was a very large seagull. Though from a distance it could be mistaken for a small dog.

This is not how I thought my night would go.

The bird stared at me, with its big beak and beady eyes.

From the looks of the half-eaten bowl of fruit on the table, it had clearly been making itself at home, and from all the crap on the floor and desk, he’d been here a while. Though I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t left already, even if the room was cozier than a Los Angeles rooftop somewhere.

As my eyes scanned around, I spotted the problem. The drapes had blown into the room and were blocking the gap the bird had come in from. All I needed to do was open the door wider and move the drapes.

“Easy, fella, I’m going to help you out…” I inched along the far wall, avoiding the crap on the floor. “Because, you might not know it, but you’re helping me out.”

He watched as I eased open the window, and pulled the drapes back far enough that I could wedge them behind the chair in the corner to stop them falling back in place.

“There you go.” I gestured to him, the first time in my life I’d ever had a conversation with a bird. The bird didn’t move. “Okay, suit yourself. But you can’t stay here forever, and I’m going to bed.”

Passing by the connecting door, I flicked the lock to open, saluted the bird good night, and let myself out the way I came.

I found Scout on the couch, kind of slumped against the cushion, doing her best to stay awake. The noise from me dropping my bag on the floor had her sitting upright.

“Was it still there?”

I nodded with a grin. “Yep. He said thanks for the bed.”

“Ugh. I am so tired.” She groaned. “Housekeeping didn’t arrive?”

I shook my head. “Did you try them again?”

“Yeah, but no one answered.”

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