Page 22 of Wanted
Unfortunately, although they looked in every nook and cranny, their investigation turned up nothing new. The person who had tried to sell the code had definitely used Danielle’s account to access the information. The FBI tech was certain of it.
Reno was dejected when he returned to his office a week later. He’d put everything he had into looking at the finer points. Things just hadn’t panned out like he’d wanted. When he walked into the office, George took one look at him and shook his head.
Reno slumped into a chair. “Damn.”
“This is getting you nowhere,” George agreed. “You need to find her and bring her in.”
Reno’s landline phone began to ring, and he looked at it tiredly. Leaning onto the back legs of his chair, he reached over and grabbed the handset to answer. The front legs of the chair came down hard when he realized what the man on the other end of the line was saying. Grabbing his pen and scratch paper, he quickly jotted down information.
“We’ve got her,” he said as he hung up. “She’s working as a maid at a hotel in Vailport.”
“Who was that? How did you find her?” George asked, even as he snatched the piece of paper out of Reno’s hand.
Reno was already collecting his things. “Before I left Longmont, I checked the Greyhound stops north to the border. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to send her wanted poster to all the motels and hotels along the route. That’s one thing about her MO that hasn’t changed. Dani’s all about comfort.”
“Yeah, yeah. What hotel?” George asked as he scanned Reno’s chicken scratch.
“The Roquefort,” Reno said with a hard smile. “The manager’s been watching her closely. Apparently, she’s making herself at home in the empty rooms. He’s not too happy about that.”
“She’s made a mistake,” George said.
“Give me that address,” Reno said grimly. He grabbed the info and headed to the door.
This time was it. There was a certainty in his gut that hadn’t been there before. This time he was going to catch her, and this time, he wasn’t letting go.
CHAPTER FOUR
It had been a long day. Danielle let herself into a hotel room, peeled away the tape she’d put over the lock, and shut the door. She turned the deadbolt and, drained of energy, leaned back against it.
She looked at the expansive room. She’d wanted to stay in luxurious surroundings like this for the past six months. After endless nights of lumpy pillows and cold showers, she’d craved some of the finer comforts. She just hadn’t thought she’d have to work so hard to get them.
Be careful for what you wish, she thought.
She dropped her bag and headed toward the bathroom, removing her maid’s uniform as she walked. She’d made enough hospital corners today to please a drill sergeant. She hadn’t realized what slobs some people were until she’d taken this job. How could they make such a mess when they stayed for such a short time?
“Pigs,” she muttered.
A hot shower sounded so inviting. She turned the water on full blast and ran her hand through the mist. It almost made all the work worthwhile. Almost. She stepped into the tub, pulled the shower curtain closed, and bent her head under the pelting spray.
“Aaah,” she sighed.
This latest job of hers paid next to nothing, but she knew opportunity when she saw it. The hotel paid cash, and their hiring practices were questionable, because she hadn’t had to fill out a W-4 form or show any type of identification for employment. That suited her fine. So did the free room and board she received, although the hotel wasn’t exactly aware of the arrangement. She’d been careful not to use her master keycard to let herself into empty rooms at night. That could be traced.
Tape over the lock couldn’t, unless you had the resources to do fingerprint analysis.
Reno.
Damn it, the guy was always there, right on the edge of her thoughts.
She rolled her shoulders to loosen up the knots and reached for the soap. She could remember the good old days when she could tell people her real name. She remembered when she could pay for a nice hotel room like this with a credit card.
She’d remembered having a life.
She slicked her hair back from her face and felt tears press at her eyes. This was so unfair. Not long ago, she’d been a happy, productive member of the community. How had she been reduced to hiding from security cameras and sneaking into empty rooms for shelter?
The doldrums settled upon her, and she couldn’t shake them. She turned off the water and dried off with one of the hotel’s big, fluffy towels. Not even fabric softener managed to cheer her up. She wrapped herself in her robe and dried her hair, but the lonely feeling remained.
She desperately wanted somebody to talk to.
