“I have less than a day, from what I can tell. I need to get going on this before it’s a media craze, and I’m waiting on more information from you now.”
“Okay, okay. I can do it. I need to head into town, find a coffee shop.” He thought for a moment. “It’s not going to be secure, but what are you looking for? I’ll email it over.”
“Randy, thank you. I owe you one. Her name is Diana Torres. We need to track down anyone this person was working for, or with. I’ll send you an email with her name, email address, and the company she was with. She’s the only person we know who was studying the virus, and she might know what it is. Anything she found out will be on her computer, at that company.”
Randy thought about the next question he was about to ask. Did he really want to know the answer? “Why can’t you just ask her yourself?”
Julie anticipated the question and responded immediately. “We tried. She died a few hours ago, and we think her company was behind it. They sent someone to find us, too. Randy — I need this information, and I need it now.”
Randy confirmed, but Julie had hung up already. Seconds after he disconnected and left the call, the phone dinged with a new email from her.
He turned off the phone’s screen and placed it in his pocket, standing up from the picnic table again. “Sorry, babe, I, uh…” she glared at him. “I think I’m going to need to break the rules for a few hours.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The hotel was, thankfully, better appointed than The Family Diner. Situated in the suburbs of Twin Falls, Idaho, it had been purchased from an out-of-business chain and updated to reflect a lodge-like style. The street sign, front entrance, and two connected buildings that made up the hotel had a consistent wood paneled exterior.
The eighteen-wheeler and its three passengers pulled into the parking lot half an hour after the incident at the diner.
Ben shook the driver’s hand before he slid down the steps of the truck. He offered the man a tip, reaching for his wallet. Their driver refused, instead asking the pair if they needed money or any more help.
“You’ve been more than kind,” Julie answered. The man was a career truck driver, working for two main shipping companies and picking up other driving jobs in between. He had a family in Rhode Island, two kids and a wife, and was working his last year before he retired early. Ben appreciated him for another reason: he talked a lot and got along with Julie well. Their conversation had so little empty space that Ben spent most of the ride staring out the passenger window.
“Listen, here’s my card,” the trucker said, handing Julie a beat-up business card that he’d pulled from somewhere under the dashboard. “If there’s anything else you need, you let me know.”
“We will, thanks, Joe,” Julie responded. She smiled and shook the man’s hand, thanking him again as she hopped out of the truck. She stood next to Ben as the truck pulled away.
“Ready?”
He nodded and stepped up to the grand entrance of the lodge hotel.
“I still can’t believe what happened. You sure you’re okay?”
Ben nodded again. “Just tired. You?”
“Yeah, me too,” she replied.
They reached the front atrium, where a young woman welcomed them from behind a chandelier-lit log desk. Everything looked warm and comforting, no doubt built and designed with those exact goals in mind.
“Do you two have a reservation?” the woman asked.
“We do,” Ben replied. “I called earlier today to set it up. Sorry, we’re a little late.”
“No problem,” the woman smiled as she grabbed the ID from Ben’s outstretched hand. “Did you run into some weather? There were some thunderstorms in the area earlier.”
Ben frowned, considering what to say. “No, uh, we just… got a little held up.”
Julie smiled, trying to sell it as well. The woman looked them both over and grinned. “I understand. Not a problem.” She winked at Ben.
Ben wasn’t sure what the woman thought she understood, but he didn’t press it. They hadn’t called the police, though when the lady from the diner had finally come out to the parking lot, she’d offered to call for them. She may have still called after they’d left, possibly to report the truck they’d left in the diner’s parking lot.
The plan was to rent a vehicle the next day and have it delivered to the hotel. After they felt certain they were no longer being followed, they’d return to the diner and pick up Julie’s truck.
The woman at the counter finished typing something into her booking system and looked up again, still smiling. “I actually have you down for two full-size beds in room 201. I apologize, I can—”
“No,” Ben said, interrupting her. He didn’t mean to sound so forward, but it was too late. “Sorry. I know, I booked it that way on purpose. We’re…”
He didn’t know how to explain their relationship. He most definitely wanted them in the same room, in case something happened. They were adults after all, but there was no reason to share a bed.
“Oh.” The woman seemed disappointed. “That’s fine — we’re good to go, then. Do you have a credit card you’d like to leave on file? I’ll need one for a deposit.”
“Would you take cash?” Julie asked. It was a long shot, but they weren’t about to use a credit card that was linked to either of their names.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Richardson,” the young woman said. “We need one in case of damages. We would accept a debit card, however.”
Julie handed her a credit card. “This is my company one; it should be fine.” Ben saw that the name on the card was, in fact, the name of her office at the CDC. It wasn’t much, but it might provide a tiny layer of protection for them.
“Very good.” The woman typed some more and handed the card back to Julie. “Thank you. Here are your keys, and will you need anything else this evening?”
Ben shook his head and took the packet of room keys.
“Do you have any wine? Red, maybe? Something, uh, sort of… romantic?” Julie asked.
Ben felt his face immediately flush a bright red. His eyes widened as he saw Julie’s smile, quickly matched by the woman behind the desk. “Well, I guess we could bring something up. We actually don’t have room service, but as you probably know, we have a fantastic menu at our restaurant.”
The woman pointed to a hallway just off the main atrium, beneath a sign that said Le Petit Paris — French-American Cuisine.
“You two get situated, and I’ll bring you a bottle in a few minutes.” She turned back to the computer as the pair walked away, a smug look on her face.
As they neared the elevator, out of earshot from the front desk, Ben pulled a still-grinning Julie to the side. “You want to tell me what the hell that was?”
“You should have seen your face!” When she realized Ben wasn’t laughing, she put on a fake-pouty look. “What? It’s not like we’re ever going to see her again. Besides, she seemed so disappointed when she thought we weren’t together.”
“We’re not together!” Ben stormed into the open doors of the elevator, Julie trotting behind.
They rose in silence, then exited the elevator to find their room directly to the left. Ben inserted the key, then swung the door open. “I’m going to run down to the desk and pick up some toiletries. Do you need anything?”
“I have everything I need,” Julie said, wheeling the suitcase she’d packed at her farmhouse into the room. “You can use my toothpaste and stuff, if you want.”
He glared at her and let the door swing shut.
When he returned to the room a few minutes later, he found Julie sprawled on one of the beds, gripping a glass of red wine and wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a worn t-shirt. She looked up as he entered, still wearing the cheesy grin. “It’s good,” she said, swirling the glass a bit. “You should try some.”