Free Best Laid Plans by Allison Brennan Page B

her time with Sean for the fear that she wouldn’t have him forever?
    She pulled out her phone and sent Sean a text message.
     
I love you.
    Sean was the romantic one in their relationship, and she wished she could be more like him. It didn’t come easy for her. But thinking about him now reminded her of how thoughtful and wonderful he was, all the time. He’d learned to cook for her, he’d moved to San Antonio for her, and while he’d left his position at RCK for other reasons, her career had certainly played a part in that decision. She never wanted to forget the sacrifices he made. She had to learn to turn off the job, if not for her, then for Sean.
    Jackson finally came back into his office after nearly fifteen minutes. “I’m sorry that took so long, but you need to come in and view the security tapes. I had my team pull additional time stamps and we’re making you a copy.” He led them through the security office, down a hall, then through a door he accessed with his card key. They crammed into a room filled with equipment, manned by an operator who was working on a computer with the largest monitor Lucy had seen outside of Quantico.
    “First, housekeeping found the phone in room six oh six,” Jackson said. “The guest checked out early this morning via computer. The room was cleaned at noon today and staff left the phone in the main housekeeping office—Saturdays are busy and the supervisor hasn’t had the opportunity to contact the guest. No other personal effects were left behind. I sent one of my security people to retrieve it. But after I spoke to the floor manager, I was curious, so I pulled the sixth-floor security footage as well.” Jackson said to the tech, “Run both segments.”
    The first segment wasn’t the main entrance, but a side entrance. “This is our northeast entrance,” the operator said. “It’s used by guests after hours—most of the popular restaurants are east of us, as well as River Walk access.”
    A girl roughly fitting the description given to them by the taxi driver used a key card to access the door. There was no clear shot from that angle. She carried a large, oversized bag and wore heels with her very short shorts.
    “She would have been stopped by security immediately in the lobby,” Jackson said. “Asked if she were a guest and in what room. We take a hard line against prostitution. We recognize that some of the more high-priced call girls would get by simply by how they present themselves or because they come in with a registered guest, but we discourage solicitation. The giveaway is not just the clothing—many young girls wear immodest shorts and tops—it’s her bag and overall appearance. When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you know.”
    “Have you seen her before?” Lucy asked.
    “Never,” Jackson said.
    “This shot isn’t clear,” Barry said.
    “The elevator footage is on a different feed and black and white. I’m working on getting that copied, but I have a better shot of her on the sixth floor.”
    The operator pressed a couple buttons and the image changed to a wide-angle lens showing a generic hallway. “This is the sixth floor,” he said.
    The girl who’d come in through the side entrance walked down the hall slowly, looking at each door number. The quality and lighting was better on these cameras. She turned abruptly and looked one way, as if something startled her, and when she did they were able to get a very clear shot of her face. Then she turned the other way and continued to look at the numbers. She stopped at one door, fumbled with the key, then slid it into the lock. It opened.
    “That’s her,” Barry said. “She matches the description of our person of interest.”
    “I made you copies. We only have digital files, so the copy is as high quality as the original. I’ll put it on a disk, but I can also email it to you.”
    “That would be terrific. I appreciate your help, Mr. Jackson. I need the name of