Free Other People's Baggage by Kendel Lynn, Gigi Pandian, Diane Vallere Page B

with a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of this mouth.
    â€œWhere do you want me to meet you?”
    â€œI’ll let you figure that out, too.”
    He left before I could tell him I seriously had no idea.

MIDNIGHT ICE: TWELVE

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    Jack Jordan walked past the front desk while I remained in the hotel lobby. Kitty glanced up at him but didn’t seem to recognize him. It was a piece of the puzzle now falling into place. Kitty belonged behind that desk as much as I might have. She was part of the problem, not part of my solution. Jack must have known that all along.
    I caught my reflection in the glass of a poster hanging on the wall. Undercover was an understatement. I pulled the cowboy hat off, only to expose matted hair that lacked its usual fluffy volume. Instead of running my fingers through it like instinct told me to do, I set the hat back on my head and tipped it forward to shield my eyes.
    I walked past the front desk to the elevators, stopping for a second by marble table in the hallway. I picked up the squat ugly lamp and pulled the brown rubber electrical cord from the outlet. I wound the cord around my left wrist and pressed the call button, silently urging the elevator to get me out of there before anybody noticed what I’d done.
    The elevator seemed to take an unbelievably long time to finally arrive, though it couldn’t have been more than a minute.
    The doors slid open and I got inside and jabbed the door close button repeatedly. I did not want company on this ride.
    Just as the doors were about to slide closed, a hand fed between them, triggering the sensors. NO! The doors slowly retracted and my worst fear came true.
    Brad stood in front of me.
    I fumbled with the buttons on the control panel with my free hand as though I were searching for the one that would open the doors, all the while staring down, refusing to make eye contact. I accidentally hit the alarm button, sending a caustic ring through the shaft of the elevator well. The elevator didn’t move. Brad stared at the lamp in my hands.
    â€œIs that from the hotel?” he asked.
    I looked at the lamp and nodded, the cowboy hat shielding most of my face.
    â€œMost people take a bathrobe.” He leaned into the elevator and pushed the alarm button, cancelling the siren. He looked at the squat ugly lamp again. “Southwest design…I guess some people like it.”
    There were so many things I hadn’t said to Brad at the top of that ski slope. I stared at the object, for fear if I looked at him I would say something I’d regret. Then Jack Jordan, my savior Jack Jordan, appeared like an angel in the hallway. He stepped into the elevator between me and Brad
    â€œTake the next elevator, man,” he said.
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œThe lady and I want to be alone.”
    â€œSorry, man,” said Brad, backing away from us into the lobby. The doors shut, leaving him on the outside and me on the inside with Jack.
    â€œWas that your guy?”
    â€œYes.”
    He nodded once, then punched the 4 on the panel. “What’s with the lamp?”
    â€œWhat do you think is with the lamp?” I replied.
    His face lit up as though it had been plugged into the now empty socket in the hallway.

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    I spent the last day of my vacation in the Carmel By-The-Sea Police Department surrounded by official looking men in black suits, white shirts, and skinny neckties. The only person in the room I recognized was Jack. He’d lied when he said he was head of security for the hotel. In reality, he was an FBI agent on the tail of a ring of jewel thieves.
    The men and women behind the jewel smuggling had been working Carmel for months. It was a touristy town, a good place for outsiders to congregate, because everybody was an outsider, literally. They blended in by not blending in. The two men I encountered by the elevator the very first day were the men who anticipated going home with a fourteen