Free When the Devil Comes to Call (A Lars and Shaine Novel Book 2) by Eric Beetner Page A

inside.
    A thin mist rose off the exposed water in the pool. The growing sound of sirens pushed Lars back to the stairs.
    He was winded by the time he got to the third floor. Shaine waited in the hall, two small carry-on bags in her hands. Lars waved her over to the stairs. She joined him with an expectant look on her face.
    “You get the car keys?” he asked.
    “No,” Shaine said, the panic turning her face flush.
    “Wait here,” he said. Lars ran back to the room, kept the gun down by his leg in case. He passed through the broken door to his room, stepped over the wet towel, the two bodies and went to the nightstand and opened the drawer. His wallet and car keys sat next to a Bible. He left the Bible and took the rest.
     
    ***
     
    “What the hell’s going on out there?”
    Shaine turned to the man’s voice, saw a bald head poking out of room 323.
    “A shooting,” she said, keeping it vague.
    “You shouldn’t be out there,” he said. The man opened the door wide enough she could see inside where his chubby wife huddled against his back shoulder, using him as a shield.
    “Come on inside,” the wife said.
    “No, that’s okay—” Shaine started.
    “There’s a goddamn crazy person out there.” The man reached out and latched a hand on Shaine’s forearm and starting reeling her in. She fought him like a marlin on the line.
    “No. I have to wait.” The jostling made the gun she had tucked in her belt come loose. It fell to the densely pattered carpet. The bald man froze. His wife kept up her calls to bring the girl to safety from inside.
    The bald man looked from the gun to Shaine. Her mind spun with possibilities. Do I have to shoot him now? she wondered.
    “Police activity, back in your room.” Lars led with the gun. The dark metal, the black hole of the barrel spoke louder than his words. The bald man retreated to room 323 and locked the door.
    “Get that,” he said, gesturing to the gun. Shaine bent down and put the gun back into her belt.
    “You go first,” he said between panting breaths.
    Shaine entered the stairwell. Lars followed behind. 
    “You don’t take that out again for anything or anyone unless I tell you to, okay?”
    “It fell,” she said.
    “Then maybe you should zip it up inside one of the bags. We don’t have room for mistakes if the cops are all over like I think they’re gonna be.”
    They reached the ground floor. Lars directed Shaine to the lobby instead of back out to the pool area. Shaine pushed through the door and into a room busy with voices. She knew where she was going – across the lobby, outside to the car, get the hell out of there.
    Hotel employees scurried around. A navy blue outfitted security guard looked in over his head. Shaine noticed the flashlight on his belt, noted that she was more heavily armed than him. She didn’t wait for instructions from Lars, Shaine paced quickly across the stone tile floor of the lobby, past the gas powered fireplace and the free coffee station.
    “Sir? Ma’am?” The hotel manager crossed the floor from the opposite side to intercept them. “You’ll have to return to your room. We’re in lockdown mode.”
    Shaine didn’t slow down.
    “Ma’am? Sir?” the manager repeated with growing urgency.
    “What kind of place are you running?” Shaine said, slowing her pace, but not stopping. “Shootouts? At these prices? Honestly. We’re getting the hell away from here. You couldn’t make us stay for all the free continental breakfasts in the world.”
    She pushed out the lobby doors with a flourish and had never been so grateful for the shock of cold air. She could hear Lars offer some sort of apology to the manager and then he banged out the door behind her. Lars took off running for the car, got it unlocked and the trunk open by the time she got there and took the bags from her.
    A trio of police cars arrived at once. The cops got out and all scurried toward the lobby looking at bit scared. 
    Lars started the