Page 76 of Last Seen
Halley may be curious and impetuous and looking to rattle cages, but she is not stupid.
“Absolutely not.”
For a second, he looks amused. “Then the lobby. It’s important.”
He jingles something—are those her keys?
He’s breaking her out. Now, this is a whole different story.
She holds up a finger and closes the window. Grabs all her things, shoving them into her overnight bag. She pulls on her Vans and is out the door, leaving the TV on for a bit of subterfuge in case the innkeeper is spying for the sheriff. She makes her way quietly down the hallway, down the stairs, into the incense-perfumed lobby. Noah is already inside and waiting, and she stifles a little yelp of surprise. She’d seen the innkeeper lock the door after the sheriff left.
“I have keys,” he says quietly, noticing her alarm. “We all do.”
“Why?”
He gives her a bemused look. “Because it’s our town.”
“Oh. Okay. Is this a jailbreak?”
He nods, reaching out a hand for her bag. “I don’t like how heavy handed my brother is being. You’ve done nothing wrong, and no one can blame you for wanting to learn more about your sister’s disappearance.”
“May I have them?”
Noah frowns. “Yes. If you’ll agree to let me make you an omelet and tell you my version of things.”
She ignores her stomach’s gleeful anticipation of proper food. “I gotta admit, I’d like to book it out of here. Your brother isn’t a big fan of mine. I don’t know that I want to chance it.”
“I don’t blame you for feeling that way. And yes, of course, here.” He hands her the keys, and her blood pressure drops a notch. “But the offer still stands. I’d really like to talk.”
He seems so sincere.So did Ted Bundy,she reminds herself.
She flips the keys through her fingers, mentally reminding herself to make sure she has the locks changed in both Marchburg and DC. It would take no effort at all to copy the house keys to all her places. Sheshudders inwardly. That seems so incredibly devious, but so does killing two women. She does not trust the Brockton brothers. Even though Noah is helping her.
“No chance he gave you my gun?”
“Why are you carrying a gun?”
“I’ll take that as a no. Listen, fine, we can talk, but can we get out of here? This place is lovely, but it gives me the creeps.”
He looks around as if seeing it for the first time, nodding. He’s taller than her, and he looks over her head as if there’s something visible only to him. Or through her, maybe.
She glances over her shoulder, but no one’s there.
“I get it. It always gave me the creeps, too. There are tunnels out of the basement to other parts of town. Used to freak me out when I was a kid. My brothers would take my things and leave them in the tunnels so I’d have to go down there in the dark to retrieve them, then they’d jump out and scare me.”
“Your family ran the Inn?”
“No.” He smiles absently, then shakes his head. “Of course, you wouldn’t know. This was our house. This was the first building my dad completed. The red room you were in? It was my room growing up.”
Halley doesn’t want to use the phrase “against my better judgment,” but aware and wary, she agrees to move their conversation to the restaurant. A neutral third-party location, as Noah calls it. Plus, he promises they won’t be alone; the morning staff are already there prepping for breakfast. They technically aren’t alone here, she thinks, until Noah says, “Leave the key for Emma. She’ll see it when she comes in the morning.”
Deep breaths, Halley.
He notices her discomfort. “I know you want to leave as soon as possible. Follow me? I’ll make sure we don’t cross paths with Cameron.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Noah.”
He gives her a smile that’s so devilishly charming she can’t help but smile back. “Anything to piss off my brother.”
