Free The Inn Between by Marina Cohen Page B

desk, Persephone had already taken out her guest book.
    â€œDate?” she said.
    â€œExcuse me?” said Quinn. “Don’t you mean name?”
    â€œNo,” said Persephone. “We go by dates here. Much easier to track. When did the guest arrive?”
    Quinn sighed. “I-I don’t know. Her name is Emma. I don’t know when she would have arrived.”
    Persephone raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Well. That’s a bit more difficult, isn’t it? Emma. Emma what?”
    â€œEmma Martin.”
    â€œMartin? Isn’t that your surname?”
    â€œUm, yes,” said Quinn, then redirected the conversation. “You really need to get some computers. Would be a lot easier.”
    â€œWe prefer to keep things simple,” Persephone said, flipping through the goose-fat pages, her long, lean finger scanning up and down the names she’d scrawled in fancy script and then crossed out.
    â€œWhy are they all crossed out?”
    â€œTo keep track of who’s come. And gone,” said Persephone. She met Quinn’s eyes head-on. “Sorry,” she added quickly. “No Emma.”
    Quinn leaned over and snuck a peek at the book. Before Persephone snapped it shut, she saw something very strange.
    Kara approached the counter. “Come on, Quinn. Let’s go back to the room. My parents are probably back. And Josh is waiting.”
    Quinn glared at Persephone a moment longer. Her face seemed so perfect. So plastic. Her eyes wide and unblinking. The woman placed her two hands on the cover of the book, then picked it up and stowed it neatly under the counter.
    Reluctantly, Quinn drew back from the desk. She followed Kara into the corridor that led to their room. Her mind had left the crazy man with the ball cap and even Emma for the moment. All she could think about was the guest book and what she’d seen.

 
    14
    N O ONE WAS WAITING FOR THEM BY THE DOOR .
    â€œI told Josh to wait right here,” sighed Kara. “No one ever listens to me.”
    â€œMaybe he’s inside, with your parents,” said Quinn, trying to sound hopeful even though an alarm rang inside her.
    Kara got the key from the pocket of her shorts and unlocked the door. The room was empty. There was no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Cawston. Kara’s note was still lying on the bed where she’d left it—untouched.
    They quickly crossed the threshold into Josh’s room. He wasn’t there either. Something about the room seemed different, too. Everything was neat and tidy. There was no trace of Josh or Mr. Cawston, as though they hadn’t been there. They searched, but neither Josh nor Kara’s parents had left a note.
    â€œWhere do you think Josh went?” said Quinn, trying desperately to squelch the panic rising in her throat.
    â€œIt’s nearly dinnertime,” said Kara. “You know him. He probably went looking for food.”
    â€œProbably,” said Quinn, her voice barely a whisper.
    â€œEither that, or back to the pool. Maybe the elevator.”
    They returned to their room and got changed quickly. Quinn slipped into her shorts and T-shirt. Kara hung her wet bathing suit in the bathroom. Quinn’s was dry, so she folded it and placed it on the dresser.
    â€œI’m going to kill him,” said Kara, stomping out into the hallway. “I can’t believe he’d just leave us like that.”
    Quinn felt sick. This was her fault. If only she hadn’t raced off to find Emma. She wanted to tell Kara what she’d seen in the book, but she didn’t want to worry her. Not just yet. “I’ll bet he’s in the restaurant,” she said, her voice thick, not far from tears.
    â€œYeah, well, he’d better be enjoying his meal ’cause it’s his last.”
    When they reached the lobby, Persephone looked up from her work at the front desk and smiled.
    â€œI’m looking for my brother. Have you seen