Page 29 of Kiss Across the Universe
Kit moved closer to the big shed where Joe kept the cat and his cash register and books. Joe naturally followed him. The resident couldn’t do that without looking rude.
When Kit figured they were out of earshot, he pulled out the pen, uncapped the back end and tipped some of the white soil onto his palm. “There’s a lot more of this dirt somewhere around Canmore. Do you know where I could find it?”
Joe pulled down the corners of his mouth and poked his finger at the soil, much the same way Kit had done only a few moments before. “Not something you find just lying around these parts.”
“No,” Kit agreed.
Joe poked a bit more. “You know…. I think I do know where there’s more of this.”
“I’m listening.”
“That new hotel at the north end. The white house.”
Kit grinned. Everyone called the new Hilton the ‘white house’ because the exterior was pure white and without adornment, and the main foyer and public rooms contained in a round extension at the front, with no windows. “That’s where this stuff comes from?”
“Pretty sure,da.” Joe scratched above one ear. “They trucked in a ton of stuff from Calgary, but they left it too late to put in top soil. Came to me in a big panic two days before Thanksgiving. They wanted soil and fake lawn and everything to cover up the construction crap they had everywhere, in time for the opening.”
“And they have this white dirt?”
“Probably two tons left over after they were done construction. They shoveled it all into a corner, but this stuff is so fine and light…it just blew all over the new carpark.” Joe laughed. “New manager was beside himself.”
Kit funneled the dirt back into the pen, capped it once more and put it away. “Thanks, Joe.”
“No problems.” Joe scratched behind his ear once again. “What’s a warden doing, hunting down dirt? Bears take exception to it?”
“It’s blowing all over my yard,” Kit lied. His house was at the north end of town, too, so the lie would track. “Couldn’t figure where the hell it was coming from.”
“Ah. Manager’s name is…” Joe frowned. “Anderson.”
“Thanks,” Kit said. “Don’t warn him I’m coming, ‘kay?”
Joe held up a hand. “None of my business,bratan.”
Kit hurried back to the truck.
Chapter Thirteen
The new Hilton hotel reallywas an ugly thing, Kit decided, as he drove slowly into the carpark. The building was stark and white. The white dirt blowing all over the parking lot had turned the asphalt into a pale grey instead of shiny new black. The dirt must have been chosen for its color and the dusty quality had clearly been overlooked.
The snow melt had turned the white dirt into a soupy, sticky mud that sucked at Kit’s tires. That explained why it liked to cling to tire treads.
He circled the lot and found the guest section, then circled that more slowly. There were only a dozen cars. The hotel was new and it was off-season.
He parked the truck in a bay that was at least six bays over from the nearest car, got out and pocketed his keys. He glanced around casually. No one appeared to be watching him.
He moved over to the nearest car and examined the tires. They were wearing white dirt infused treads, but the patterns didn’t match the mud ridges he’d examined by the bridge.
He moved onto the next car, and then the next. He made it all the way around the guest parking lot, then moved over to his truck, leaned against the door and ruminated.
None of the cars in the lot had tires that matched the pattern by the bridge. Did that mean whoever it was had gone? Or just gone temporarily? Or they had a more secure secondary location where they were keeping Alannah? A hotel room wasn’t nearly as private as most people liked to think. And the walls were far too thin. But maybe whoever it was who had taken her had no other options.
If onehadto use a hotel, this was the building to pick. It was on the north edge of town, and a hundred yards of thistles and pine seedlings separated the mostly empty lot from the nearest row of private houses, which all had six foot tall fences guarding their privacy. Yes, this hotel was a lonely place.
Or maybe they had come by here to visit a friend, and weren’t staying here at all.
Kit could feel sweat breaking out under his jacket. He wasn’t a detective. He was better at puzzling out wildlife tracks, not figuring out human behavior.
Only, that was a lie. He wasverygood at figuring out how terrorists thought and anticipating their behavior. But that expertise lay in his past. It was a useless skill, these days. Even this whoever it was who had taken Alannah…they were criminals, but even master criminals didn’t think the way terrorists did. Terrorists were a breed apart.
