The Luna's Vow

Chapter 4. The Trail Goes Cold, Then Hot

Gatehouse Motel was an American roadside classic. It had two stories and parking stalls right in front of the first storey windows. Logo-stamped pickup trucks occupied some of them. Another row of stalls for the upstairs rooms circled the building. Laminated do-not-disturb cards flapped on the doors in a light breeze. A staircase led to the second-floor gallery, with a room-service cart lingering next to it. Over it all reigned a neon sign, spelling 'vacancy' in green letters. Red 'no' in front of the 'vacancy' seemed burned-out rather than turned off on purpose. The whole place reeked of bleakness, low effort and cheap cleaning solution.

In short, it was the last place in Seattle for Dad to select as his residence. He should be in a downtown high-rise, full of luxury and anonymity he would somehow avoid paying for.

I double checked my phone. Steinar, indeed, scribbled Gatehouse as his contact for Mie. Go figure...unless he lied.

When Blake put a hundred-dollar bill on the counter in the lobby, a formerly sleepy woman behind it woke up, swept the money extra-quick and clicked her keyboard. "Room two-fourteen, round the back."

There was no mistake or deception then. Steinar was here, and it would be like him to pick a room out of the view from the lobby.

Another thing worried me, a silly pang of jealousy. "She smiled at you. Enticingly." I pouted at Blake, as we circled the building. "Should I be worried?"

"She liked my money. Humans are like that," he replied, unsmiling. His shoulders were taut, head on a swivel, sniffing the air.

The smell was mostly cigarette smoke, laundry and burnt dust in the heaters. Various body odors also oozed through the doors we passed. When we stopped in front of 214, I caught a whiff of someone familiar, and troubling. I glanced at Blake.

"Yes, I sense it too." He pushed the door handle. Locked. "Steinar? Open up."

Nothing.

"Do you want me to break down his door?" Blake asked, too eager for my liking.

"Give me a sec, I have an idea that wouldn't land you in trouble."

I picked a 'don't disturb' sign from two doors down, flipped it to the opposite side that read 'please, clean my room' and put it on the doorknob of the 214.

Then I crooked my finger at my mate. "Come along, I'll show you how humans do things."

Blake obediently followed me to the parked cleaning cart, though a certain gravity in his steps showed that he'd rather blast the door.

I snuggled my prickly mate to me and popped my head into the room that had its door propped by the cleaning cart. A guy with giant headphones, baggy jeans and a flannel shirt, pushed vacuum around the carpet.

Pulling Blake along, I stepped in front of the brush. "Hi there."

The guy startled. "Woah, where did you—"

I beamed at him. "We're from 214. I'm afraid we made a bit of a mess." Infusing my smile with a suggestive energy wasn't difficult with Blake standing right next to me. "Could you ah...expedite the cleanup?"

Just in case he needed an incentive, I copied Blake's earlier bribing and stuffed a twenty between the tiny soaps on the cart.

"Okay," the guy said.

Blake and I left hand in hand, and hid around the corner.

"Do you think it would work?" Blake asked after a few minutes. "He isn't in any hurry."