Free Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) by Kylie Brant Page B

behind him as he made his way quickly to the office. Reaching the area a few moments behind him, she found him already in a corner, deep in conversation with the state policeman who had been waiting for their arrival.
    Jaida gave the employee behind the counter a tentative smile. The young woman, who looked no older than twenty-two or -three, wound a tendril of her frizzy red hair around one forefinger and popped her gum loudly. Then her gaze went back to the men.
    Jaida didn’t attempt to join in the dialogue between the policeman and Trey. She approached the desk, forcing the clerk’s gaze back to her. “Could you tell me if the vacated rooms have been cleaned yet?”
    The woman bristled visibly. “All our rooms are clean— cleaned every day. The owner would have my butt if that didn’t get done.”
    “I’m sure they’re cleaned thoroughly,” Jaida soothed. “But there must be a lot of work around here. How long does it take your crew?”
    “Hours,” huffed the young woman. “Usually I help, but I’ve been held up today because he—” she jerked her head at the young officer Trey was talking to “—has been here since the others left. Too much going on for me to leave the office empty. So we might be a bit behind today,” she allowed reluctantly. “On account of me having to answer a bunch of questions and all.”
    Jaida had the response she wanted. She gave the woman another smile and, turning, let herself quietly out of the office.
    Once outside again, Jaida searched out the neon sign, the one that had figured so prominently in her vision yesterday. Slowly she walked past each of the motel doors. Her progress was halting but steady. Already the hair on the back of her neck was prickling; goose bumps appeared on her arms. Still she walked, past a door to a window, paused, then moved on. The chill skittering along her spine was increasing and owed nothing to the damp breeze. At the third door from the opposite end, she stopped. She didn’t need the proximity of the sign from this particular window to know that this was the room that had housed Benjy last night. Her certainty lay in the waves that vibrated off the empty room to wrap around her. Sensations of confusion and tears shed by a child in a strange place. She closed her eyes, lost in the suffering and bewilderment that Benjy’s brief sojourn had left in its wake.
    A voice sounded in her ear. “What are you doing out here?”
    Jaida opened her eyes to find Trey standing closer than she would have dared allow him had she been thinking clearly. “This is it,” she said, her words barely loud enough to be heard. She lifted one hand with great effort and pointed toward the motel-room door. “That’s where Benjy was last night.”
    Trey stared hard at her. “Give it up, Jaida,” he ordered harshly. “The show is over. The officers searched all the vacant rooms, talked to all the guests who are still here. No one claims to have seen Benjy, not the clerks, not the guests. There’s not a shred of evidence proving he was ever here, and there’s a good reason for that, isn’t there? Because you and I both know he wasn’t.”
    She returned his hard stare. “Get a key,” she said quietly.
    He exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Look, there’s no need to carry this farce out any longer. You’ve been caught. Surely it’s not the first time for that. You may as well . . . where are you going?”
    He was in midsentence when Jaida turned and walked back to the office. Trey stayed where he was, frustrated beyond belief. The woman was tenacious; he’d grant her that. She was determined to play this little melodramatic farce out to the end. He waved as the officer drove the state police cruiser by him and pulled out of the parking lot. The officer had been polite, but it was apparent that he’d considered this assignment today fruitless. He’d treated Trey as one would an overwrought, ever-hopeful relative of a crime victim. It had suited Trey’s