Matters of the Heart

Chapter 20: The Gloves Are Off

Chapter 20:

The Gloves Are Off

Spencer was able to finagle the man's room number out of the naïve young desk clerk. They walked down a small dank hallway looking for room 214. The place was wretched. The carpets were covered in stains, the walls were crumbling, and the ceiling was probably loaded with asbestos. It was a wonder the place hadn't been condemned. Spencer rattled off about a dozen different safety and building violations as they weaved through the corridors.

"Is it just me or is that spot on the wall moving?" Aria stared at the wallpaper.

"That's a roach." Emily grimaced.

Aria gasped and jumped back a few inches. Emily couldn't help but giggle at Aria's overreaction.

"God, this place needs a lot more than a paint job and a delousing," Spencer said.

"We can play Extreme Home Makeover later. Come on." Hanna walked up to the door and knocked on it.

"What are you doing?" Aria asked in a harsh whisper. She grabbed Hanna's arm. "I thought the plan was to wait and see who shows up to meet him."

"That could take hours. I'm tired of waiting. I want answers." Hanna shrugged. She put her hand over the peephole and knocked again. "Housekeeping," she said sweetly.

"Housekeeping in this place?" Emily muttered out a laugh. "I bet there's still garbage in the wastebaskets from the 1970s."

Hanna tried again, a little louder this time, "Housekeeping!"

"No, thanks!" A gruff voice with a slight Yankee accent called back. From the sounds of it he was from Brooklyn.

"Housekeeping." Hanna persistently knocked on the door, her voice more meek and more pure than any of her friends had ever heard it.

There was a grunt of frustration followed by thumping around inside the room. He stomped to the door and it crept open.

"I told the front desk I didn't want a turndown serv..." He stuck his head out and then stopped mid-sentence when he saw them standing there. "Oh, sh..."

"It's nice to meet you, James." Spencer shoved the door forward with surprising strength, sending him stumbling backwards into the room. "Now, why don't you tell us who the hell you are and why you're following us?"

"You're the ones breaking into my motel room." He snapped back defensively.

"We didn't break in. We barged in. There's a difference," Spencer said with a smarmy attitude.

"What are you, a lawyer?" He snorted out a calloused laugh. He tried to play it off as a joke, but his tone suggested that he knew exactly who Spencer was.

The girls took in his appearance. He was young, probably in his late twenties. His dark slick hair was pulled back out of his face. He was muscular, but not too big. His high defined cheekbones highlighted his olive green eyes. He had a pointed chin and large full lips surrounded by a thick dark goatee. Emily didn't recognize him.

"Why are you here?" Emily asked.

"For the ambiance, obviously," he said sarcastically as he lifted his hand and motioned around the room.

"Not here." Emily clarified. "Here in Rosewood. Who sent you? Are you working for Sara?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

He stared at the girls and then at the door. They were blocking his only escape route. Judging by the way he'd reacted when he saw them and how he was trying to get away...he clearly knew something.