My eyes remain trained on her while my mind looks ahead. One kiss, that’s all I need. A suggestive embrace would do the job, but a kiss, that would be the money shot.
That’s assuming Stephen’s even there.
She told me the gym is where they met. Then again, she also said he and I would make a nice couple. Ha!
Maybe this is nothing more than a wild goose chase and maybe it isn’t. I don’t care. I’m determined to get the proof I need – that Michael needs – if it’s there to get.
Then why am I starting to feel so uneasy about this?
There’s a hollow forming in my stomach, and with each step it grows. It’s not nerves or nausea, it’s something different. And this isn’t the first time I’ve felt it.
Streets, time, everything seems a blur to me. I’m so pre-occupied with the feeling, I almost miss Penley’s arrival at her gym.
I focus my eyes and watch her walk in. At that exact moment, the feeling takes over, consuming me. I know what it is. Dread.
And I know when I felt it last too.
Here.
Right outside Penley’s “gym.”
Otherwise known as the Fálcon Hotel.
Chapter 80
I WANT TO RUN, but I can’t decide which way to go.
I’m desperate to get the hell out of here, and yet I absolutely have to keep following Penley and see where this is going. I take a step forward, then back. I’m a human yo-yo.
Finally, I run.
To the hotel.
I push back the fear – the dread – and sprint up the front steps beneath the Fálcon’s red awning, slowing down only as I enter the lobby. Which I remember – from my time here after I moved from Boston. Block it out, Kris. Not relevant now.
Here comes the first tricky part – seeing which room Penley’s heading to while still not being seen.
Where is she?
Nowhere. I scan the swank lobby with its minimalist decor. They’ve redecorated, I see. The furniture is all black, as is most of the clothing. It’s like a Prada convention. There are thin people everywhere, but not one of them is Penley.
I rush to the two elevators on the wall to the left of reception. The first is open and waiting, the second heading upward. A digital panel on the wall tells me where. I watch and wait until it stops on the fourth floor.
Off I go, taking the empty elevator. When the doors open, I peek out, hoping to see Penley from behind, moving toward a room.
Instead, the hallway’s empty. I feel like one of those characters in a scary movie, with the audience shouting, “Get out of there, Kristin. Run! Get away!”
I won’t do that. I worry that I’ve missed Penley or that she’s not even on this floor.
Then comes a woman’s laugh from a few rooms down. Or is it a cackle? Either way, I know it instantly. It’s the Pencil.
I get close and listen, my ear maybe an inch from the door. When they’re not laughing, they’re talking, and though I can’t quite make out the conversation, I recognize the other voice in the room. It’s him.
Stephen.
I listen for a minute to their frolicking. They almost sound like kids in there, albeit very naughty ones. Is this really the woman who has me alphabetize her cans of soup?
I feel for my camera again. No problem this time – it’s there. At the ready.
I spot the door to the stairwell at the end of the hallway. There’s a small cut-out window at eye level. Looks like a perfect place to set up shop.
I figure if Penley and Stephen arrive separately, they probably leave separately. Not that it really makes a difference. Solo shots of them slinking out of the same hotel room will more than do the trick. Michael will be able to fill in the blanks.
I back away from the door, the mix of their giggling and God-knows-what now like nails on a blackboard to me. If I’m going to commit to a stakeout, I can only hope that Stephen isn’t into tantric sex, like Sting. I’ll be waiting forever!
I start walking toward the stairwell. Halfway there, I stop as if I’ve hit a wall. The feeling of dread rushes over me again as I turn and face a room on the opposite side of the hallway. I feel dizzy; I’m shivering.
All because of what I hear.
Chapter 81
IT’S THE MUSIC!
This time it’s not between my ears, it’s behind the door. The same song that accompanies the dream -about this hotel! – is coming from inside this other room. It must be on the radio. How convenient. Or how sadistic of someone. But who?
I lean in and listen, my ears straining. It’s faint, and I still can’t make out the damn lyrics. The name of the song remains stuck on the tip of my tongue.
Not for long, though.
I knock softly on the door. I hate to bother you, folks, but it’s time to play Name That Tune!
No one answers.
So I knock a little louder.
C’mon, answer already!
Are you in the shower?
Asleep? With the radio on? I guess it could happen.
I drop to my knees, peering in at what little I can see beneath the door. It’s definitely dark in there.
This is so frustrating! Whatever it takes, I need to get into that room right now.
I stand and begin banging furiously, my fist bruising right before my eyes. If no one’s in there, I’ll knock down the damn door myself!
I hear a lock snapping open.
Behind me!
It’s Penley and Stephen’s room.
RUN!
I sprint for all I’m worth toward the stairwell. From behind me, I can hear the door opening and Stephen’s voice echoing in the hallway.
“I don’t know; I’ll check,” he’s saying to Penley. “I heard it too. I’m checking. ”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! I was too loud!
I reach the stairwell entrance, frantically pushing through the door. Did he see me? Would he recognize me from behind? Or from the front, for that matter?
I’m about to race down the stairs when my gut steers me in the opposite direction. Up! Go up!
Dashing up the steps, I reach the landing halfway to the next floor and throw myself against the cold concrete wall, out of view, I hope. I hold my breath, listening for Stephen.
Sure enough, he was right behind me. He’s running down the stairs. My gut was right.
I tiptoe to the railing and steal a quick glance. A couple of flights below, I can see the top of Stephen’s head. Also on display are his bare shoulders. He’s wearing nothing but a towel.
He continues downward, probably thinking I’m headed for the lobby.
That’s when I hear it. The voice I love to hate.
“Honey?” Penley calls out. “Where are you?”
On a dime, he stops. Penley must have him wrapped around her bony little finger.
“I’m down here,” he calls back.
“Who was making the noise in the hall?” she asks.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Oh, I see. So you’d rather run around the hotel half naked than have sex with me? Okay. Fine.”
It’s classic Penley. And before you can say “horndog,” Stephen’s racing back up the stairs to her.
It’s a miracle, all right.
Praise the Pencil!
Chapter 82
“YOU’REWHERE? ” he asks.
“Outside the Fálcon Hotel,” I answer. “Where you need to be right away. Please come… Yes, I want you to drop everything.”
I quickly explain why.
“I’ll be right there,” Michael tells me. “Don’t move.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
I don’t. I remain perched on a stool behind the window of a Starbucks across the street. There’s a perfect view of the Fálcon’s entrance, the red awning eclipsed only by the occasional bus or delivery truck passing by. After Stephen chased me into that stairwell, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to stick around inside. Plus, there’s the matter of my history with the hotel. Poor little Kristin’s first days in New York. A horror story in itself. But definitely one for another time.