Keeper of the Peace (Graveyard Guardians #2) by Jennifer Malone Wright Page B

think of anything. So far,
this has been very helpful.”
    The doorbell jangled and she eyed the
entrance. “Well, in that case, I am happy to have been of service.
Now, I’d better get to work, it’s been nice seeing you, David.”
    “Same here, Lisa.” He finished his coffee
and threw some cash on the counter for her. She had said that the
guy was looking for a better place to stay, which meant he had
probably been staying at the motel in town.
    He roared into the parking lot of the motel
and swung into an empty spot in front of the office. Grabbing the
folder once again, he got out of his car and hurried up the small
stone steps into the minuscule office.
    Inside, a plump woman sat at a desk, tapping
away on a computer. “I’ll be right with you,” she mumbled without
looking up to see who had entered.
    “I’ll be right here,” he responded, not even
trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He could clearly see the
screen of the computer had a social networking site pulled up, so
she obviously wasn’t working.
    He turned and checked out the office while
he waited. There were two folding chairs up against the wall behind
him, a cactus sat on a wooden table in front of the window and
resting up against another wall was a rack which held brochures for
area attractions.
    “There.” The woman pushed the keyboard back
and turned toward him. “Now how can I help you? Are you looking for
a room?”
    “No ma’am. I’m Detective David Foster. He
flashed the badge attached to his belt. “I have reason to believe
that this man may have been staying here.” He slid the photo onto
the desk in front of her.
    She peered down at the picture and then
lifted her gaze back up to David. “Why, yes. He actually has a room
occupied right now.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth a
look of concern washed over her face. “What did he do?”
    “Don’t worry ma’am, he’s not a threat. He
was murdered sometime this morning.”
    Her hands went to her face, covering her
mouth. “Oh my God! Really?”
    “Unfortunately, yes. So, you said that he
has a room out with you now?”
    “Um, yes,” she nodded.
    “I am going to need to take a look at his
room, if you don’t mind.”
    She stood and grabbed a key off the wall
behind her. They were actual keys too, not those plastic card jobs
that every other hotel gave you now days. “It’s room twelve. Do you
need me to show you where it is?”
    David shook his head. “No, thank you, I
think I can find it.” He accepted the key she held gripped in her
extended hand, gave her a quick nod and headed out to find room
twelve. So far, what bothered him was that the guy didn’t have a
key on his body. If he was staying there, he should have been
carrying a key around with him.
    Once he found room twelve he fit the key
into the lock and swung open the door. For a moment he simply stood
in the doorway, taking in the room and its contents.
    The bed was neatly made, there weren’t any
clothes lying around, and everything appeared crisp and clean. This
told him the housekeeper had been in and done her job, but it
sucked because she may have cleaned up something that could have
been useful for the case.
    Over by the bed, on the floor, was a small,
black duffel bag. He hurried over and grabbed the bag, unzipped it
and spread what was inside out onto the bedspread. All his hopes
were dashed when all he found was a pair of jeans, a tee shirt,
underwear, socks, deodorant and a toothbrush.
    “Shit.” He shoved all the items back into
the bag and turned to look around the room. He bent down and looked
under the bed, he opened the drawer to the nightstand, he searched
the bathroom. Fucking nothing.
    Who the hell was this guy anyway? The fact
that he wasn’t in the system was a huge red flag in itself. The
only people he came across that didn’t have prints in the system
were professional killers. The lack of evidence was certainly
leaning toward this guy having such a career.
    He