Baca - Page 28

Loomis was expecting us when we walked into the lobby. He held up a paper and shoved it at me when we reached the counter. “Here, I told you he signed it.”

I looked at the photocopy of the sign-in paper and sure enough, Robert Landman had signed in a flowing script. I looked at the rest of it and it showed Number of Occupants as four.

“He had four people with him?”

“More than that. Must’ve been eight or ten when they all finally got here.”

Hondo said, “You remember anything about them, what they looked like?”

“They were different kinds. The man and woman who came in with him, then some hard, blocky looking men and two Mexican women, good looking, too. Had kinda strawberry colored hair, like that. There was a big-shouldered Mexican, came in, too. He’s the one who left with the two Mexican women. Lucky guy.”

“Did they all come in together?”

“No, the man and woman came with Landman, then the group of white guys with the two Mexican women, and the big Mexican came in solo. Hey, it wasn’t like they were crowded up there. That one is our premiere suite, really two rooms made into one big one. There are tables and a bar and three beds and fold out sofas, the works. You could probably keep twenty people there, no problem-o.”

“You rent that out often?”

“No, in fact nobody’s rented it since he did.”

“You think we could go up for a look?”

Loomis looked around, “I don’t know...”

I laid out another hundred-dollar bill.

He put it in his pocket and said, “Okay, I guess so. Don’t stay long, though. My manager comes back at two.” He slid the key to me and said, “It’s on the second floor, all the way to the end.”

We entered the room and each of us took a different area. The maids had done a good job and the place smelled clean, the beds made without a wrinkle, and there was no trash left anywhere. Hondo checked the refrigerator and found nothing. I went into the bathroom and went through all the drawers. On a hunch, I lifted the lid off the toilet reservoir. Clear water and a few rust stains were along the sides, and nothing was in the bottom. As I started to put the lid on, I heard the faint sound of water leaking. I looked closer in the tank and saw a black thread tied to the flapper and going underneath it. I flushed the toilet and held the ball up. A string hung into the opening. When the water finished running, I held up the float and pulled on the string. At the end was a small baggie rolled like a loose cigarette. Papers were inside. I untied the string and took the baggie into the kitchen.

Hondo and Hunter came over as I opened it and spread out the papers. They were in Spanish and Hunter looked them over and translated.

“These are papers of a woman from Durango named Maria Sanchez de Mendoza. There’s also a note she wrote that says if something happens to her, to notify her mother. It gives the address. Her last sentence says she is scared but hopeful, that these people are very dangerous, but that her older si

ster said she can make lots of money in the club. She says, and I’m quoting here, ‘The star is protecting us for now.’ Then there’s a ‘Thanks to God’ and that’s it.” Hunter looked at me.

I said, “I wonder what club, and how this ties in with Landman? Is he dangerous? Man, I can’t see that.”

Hondo said, “I think star means Landman.”

Hunter said, “If that’s true, then he’s not dangerous, he’s in danger.”

“Or worse,” I said.

We returned to the lobby and Loomis asked, “You find anything?”

“Nah, but thanks for letting us look around.”

“Sure thing,” he leaned closer and with his crossed eyes, I couldn’t tell if he was looking at Hondo or me when he said, “Anything coming up good in the rag I should keep an eye out for?”

I got some control and said, “You bet, I don’t know what date yet, but you read it for the next couple months and you’ll see what I’m talking about.” I winked at him.

Loomis grinned and winked back, his face pointed somewhere between Hondo and me. “All right!”

Hondo said, “If any of those people show up, you give us a call.”

He handed Loomis a card and he read it, then frowned, “Private Investigators? I thought you were with the Enquirer.”

“It’s a cover,” Hondo said.

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
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