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Chapter Fourteen

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Lured

Gina was sitting in the Getaway motel’s back office, three episodes into the new season of her favorite show, when the outer bell jingled, signaling that someone had just entered the reception area. She sighed and put down the pint of ice cream she’d been digging caramel bits out of, then hastily pulled the itchy brunette wig back on, calling, “Coming!”

A guy in a baseball cap stood with his back to her, hands tucked in his pockets, watching the film playing on the TV mounted in the corner. Gina stood behind the desk and said, “You want a room?”

Belatedly, she saw the slip of paper Marcella had taped to the back of the desk that read WELCOME TO THE GETAWAY MOTEL. CAN I HELP YOU?

The guy didn’t seem to care, though. He turned, stepped up to the desk, and smiled at her. “You poor thing,” he said, gesturing to her hair. “What happened?”

Self-consciously, Gina straightened the wig and said, “Chemo.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame. Hope you beat it.”

“Thanks,” she said warily, sizing him up: old, white, dressed like he was going camping. Should she ask if he was looking for a date? Marcella had threatened to kick her out if she treated the guests as johns, but Marcella wasn’t here, and maybe just this once…

Gina’s eyes drifted up to the security camera mounted in the corner, and she sighed. Not worth it. “So do you want a room or not?”

“Actually, I had a question for you.” Seeing her expression, he laughed and said, “Oh, nothing bad, I assure you.”

Gina didn’t laugh along with him; she wasn’t in the mood. She felt like shit thanks to whatever that asshole had drugged her with last night, and she really wanted to get back to her show. This guy was standing in the way of all that, and even more annoyingly, it didn’t seem like he was getting a room anyway. “What do you want?”

He adjusted his ball cap. “This is the place where those murders happened last May, is it not?”

He had kind of a funny way of talking, more formal than his clothes.

Last May, Gina had still been living with Jordan in his van—before he took off and ruined her whole fucking life. She’d heard rumors about what had happened at the Getaway, but the details were vague. And based on Marcella’s attitude, she’d gathered the topic was off limits.

Gina shrugged. “I guess. I don’t really know anything about it.”

“So you weren’t working here then?”

Gina shook her head. She wasn’t even working here now, not really, but he didn’t need to know that. “Nope.”

“I see.” He rubbed his chin.

“Why?” Gina asked.

“Well, I suppose I’m just curious.”

Gina nodded, thinking, Whatever, creepo . “Well, if that’s all—”

“Actually, is there any chance I could see the room where it happened?”

Gina was already shaking her head. She knew this scam; she and Jordan had pulled it themselves a few times. You asked to see a room, like you wanted to “inspect” it before committing to paying for it, and then as soon as the door was opened, you surreptitiously called the front desk. While the manager hurried back to answer the phone, you showered, brushed your teeth, shit, and left without paying. It was pretty much the only time Gina had felt clean on the road; she’d gotten really good at taking a thirty-second shower. “Marcella wouldn’t like that.”

“Marcella?” he asked, leaning in. “Is she the owner?”

“No.” Gina hesitated. Maybe there was a way to make some money off this weirdo. And the canister of pepper spray Dot had given her was tucked in her pocket, so if he tried anything, she could spray him and run. “Um, if you want, I could show it to you? For a fee,” she said pointedly.

“Oh my, that would be absolutely lovely.” He beamed at her. “Thank you so much.”

The guy dug a wad of cash out of his jacket pocket and peeled off a twenty-dollar bill, offering it across the counter.

Gina frowned. She should have asked for more, but it was too late now. What the guy didn’t know was that she wasn’t exactly sure which room the murders had happened in. Not that it really mattered, because he probably didn’t know either. She eyed the rack of keys on the wall, debating. The closest empty room was number eleven, but Marcella always said that room was off limits. Which definitely fit with a room people had died in. Hell, maybe it even had happened there. Regardless, it suited her purposes. Gina grabbed the key and said, “C’mon then.”

He stuck to her heels as she led the way across the parking lot and up the stairs and hovered a little too close as she unlocked the door. Some primal sense switched on, making her scalp prickle as it dawned on her that maybe bringing a stranger to a motel room wasn’t a great idea, considering the fact that just last night she’d been drugged and shaved in a similar scenario. Gina tucked her right hand in her pocket, wrapping her fingers around the pepper spray trigger. With her left, she unlocked the door and stepped aside, waving him past. “Go ahead. But I only got a minute, so be quick about it.”

She stepped back to put some distance between them as the guy walked inside and flipped on the light.

Almost immediately, he called out, “I believe there’s been a mistake. Someone is clearly staying in this room.”

“No they’re not,” Gina said with a frown. She’d been here for months, and this room had always sat vacant. No way Marcella would have rented it out. Besides, if she had, there wouldn’t have been a key available. Out of curiosity, she stepped inside. He wasn’t lying. The bed was unmade, and the garbage can overflowed with empty fast-food wrappers. What the fuck?

She heard the sound of a toilet flushing, and then another guy stepped out of the bathroom. Seeing them, he froze.

Gina’s breath caught in her throat as the realization hit: They’re a team, working together . The old guy had lured her up here, where they would finish the job they’d started last night.

She shrieked and yanked out the pepper spray, fumbling and nearly dropping it. She spun on the old guy, but he was too fast and bolted for the stairs. Growling deep in her throat, Gina charged his accomplice. All the accumulated rage of the past few months—hell, the past year—coursed through her. She held down the trigger and sprayed directly into his open mouth. The guy fumbled for her, and she shoved him back with a surge of what felt like superhuman strength, hurtling him into the far wall, where he fell to the ground, clawing at his face.

Then Gina turned and ran like hell.