Free Night Vision by Jane A. Adams

attitude, Alec decided in the end. It had to stop.
    A text from Patrick told him that they had collected Naomi and he should stand by for photos. Alec smiled, then frowned in irritation as he thought where he’d rather be tonight. Certainly not here, three hours away from home and effectively car-less.
    Finally, irritation now at maximum, he returned to the reception in the motel and then went in search of Travers.
    The reception area and restaurant were central to two long arms, two stories high, that stretched out and then folded back, forming three sides of a quadrangle, surrounding a garden area with an empty pond and bleached wooden seats. The fourth side was taken up with a second car park – marked staff only – and then gave on to scrubby woodland and neglected grass. Alec’s room was in the left-hand arm on the first floor; Travers had been given a room on the opposite side, on the ground. Long corridors, with views looking out on to the unkempt garden, led to the guest rooms, the windows of which faced out on to neater lawns and the main car parks. Alec’s afforded him a glimpse of the all-night services and the motorway beyond.
    Alec knocked on Travers’ door and, receiving no response, called out to his boss. ‘Trav, it’s Alec. You were supposed to meet me in the restaurant. Travers? Look, you’ve got to eat sometime. Trav, let me in.’
    Still no response. Something was wrong; Alec could sense it.
    He made his way back to the reception, checking on the way that Travers’ car was still parked outside, then asked the girl at the desk if she’d seen DCI Travers go out. Alec knew that the fact they were both police officers had intrigued her when they’d checked in; he’d lay bets on her recalling every time either one of them had passed her desk.
    â€˜No, sorry. I saw you go to the restaurant, but I’ve not seen your friend since you both came back. Is something the matter?’
    â€˜Could you try calling his room?’
    The girl frowned. ‘Sure.’
    Standing in the lobby, Alec could hear the phone ring out, but Travers did not reply. The sense of unease was growing, moment by moment. ‘Do you have a pass key?’ he asked.
    â€˜No, only the duty manager—’ Her eyes widened. ‘ Is there something wrong?’ she asked him again, her tone worried now, Alec’s anxiety contagious.
    â€˜Can you get the manager, please? I’ll wait outside the room. Number Fifty-One G.’
    She nodded and was picking up the phone to make the call as Alec strode back out of the lobby. He was probably imagining things, Alec told himself. Trav had gone to sleep or left the motel when the girl at reception wasn’t looking, or he was deliberately ignoring Alec.
    The sense of dread now deep in his stomach told him Travers had done none of those things.
    Back outside his room, Alec hammered on Travers’ door again. Further down the corridor a man looked out of his own room and shouted at Alec to keep it down. Alec glared at him and the man ducked back inside.
    â€˜Please,’ another voice said. ‘Is it really necessary to disturb the other guests?’
    Alec turned his attention to this new speaker, saw the duty manager, pass key in hand, regarding him with a mix of puzzlement and annoyance.
    â€˜Sorry,’ Alec mumbled automatically. ‘If I could have the key, please.’
    The manager hesitated, then something in Alec’s expression seemed to change his mind. He handed the swipe card over and then stepped back, as if to get out of range of whatever was behind that bland wooden door.
    Alec took a deep breath and swiped the card. He’ll be asleep, Alec told himself. Fallen asleep and I’ll feel like a complete idiot. He swung the door wide and swore softly. ‘Call an ambulance.’
    â€˜What!’ The manager peered cautiously around the open door and then stepped back hurriedly. ‘Oh my