Page 39 of Midnight Secrets

Ishot a glare at the ringing hotel phone from my position snuggled up on the bed in my bathrobe with my paper cup full of wine and theI Love Lucyreruns playing on the TV. For half a second, I debated whether to answer. No one knew my room number, so it had to be the front desk. What they could possibly want, though, I didn’t know.

With a huff, I sat up and scooted toward the edge of the mattress so I could pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Holmes. This is Kaitlyn at the front desk. I’m sorry to bother you. There’s a man here asking for you. Oscar Quartermaine?” Her voice lowered. “He says he’s a cop.”

Amusement brought a slight smile to my face. I could just picture the young woman I’d met earlier giving the handsome detective the side eye as she spoke.

“You can send him up. He’s a friend.”

“Okay. So long as there’s no trouble. We’re a quiet establishment.”

“I know. Everything is fine. Thank you.”

“Yes, ma’am. He’ll be up shortly.”

I thanked her again and hung up.

Glancing down at myself, I sighed. It was becoming a bit of a habit to be around the man in my bathrobe.

Too bad it wasn’t for fun reasons.

Standing, I shuffled into the bathroom. I could at least make sure none of my snack was stuck in my teeth. The sesame crackers and cheese were yummy, but the seeds liked to hide.

After a quick check—and finding nothing lurking—I stuffed my feet into my hot pink slippers, feeling the chill now that I was out of my cozy cocoon.

At the soft knock on the door, I tucked a flyaway wisp of hair behind my ear, then immediately rolled my eyes at myself. Whatever the reason he was here, it wasn’t because he was interested in me. Most likely, he was here to take me up on my offer to be his wilderness guide.

Grasping the lever handle, it turned smoothly in my hand.

My brain short-circuited as I got my first look at him. He’d ditched the puffy coat in favor of the heavy vest and sweater combo he bought at the outfitter’s this morning. The heathered charcoal wool sweater and dark khaki vest made him look like a lumberjack. Red tinged his cheeks from the cold, and the wind had attacked that swath of wavy dark hair on his head, leaving it mussed.

One dark eyebrow rose as his nearly black eyes took in my attire.

“I think I’m getting a sense of what your favorite outfit is.” He pointed at my feet. “And the slippers have made a comeback.”

“Yes, well, I’m not running through yards after Pebbles tonight.” I stepped back and motioned him inside.

“Where is she, anyway? I half-expected her to catch a ride on the plane here in your purse.”

I’d done that in the past. Pebbles liked exploring new places. But for this business meeting, I’d left her at home.

“She’s with my friend, Mina.” Who was no doubt spoiling her rotten with bits of bacon and sausage.

Turning, I offered him a polite smile. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“It’s Oscar, please. Or Oz, as Ellis calls me.”

“Not Ozzie?” A spate of jealousy speared me as I thought of the faceless Piper who’d given him the nickname.

He sighed. “You caught that, huh?”

I smiled. “I did. Do you not like it?”

He lifted one shoulder. “It’s not terrible. It’s just not a name I grew up with, so it’s strange, you know?”

I tipped my head. “I get that. But you look like an Ozzie, not an Oscar.”

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