Acting Ladylike | On Hold

✩ N I N E T E E N ✩

  My mouth drops open in shock.

  "I've seen that flower before," I mumble once I've recovered, pointing to the paper.

  Mr. Ashworth turns to glance at me, an unreadable expression flitting across his face before morphing into something resembling suspicion.

  "Where?"

  "Back during the shooting. There was a tattoo on Sarah Smith's arm of that same flower," I explain, easily taking the map out his hands and leaning further as if I might be able to notice more the closer I get.

  I turn back to look at him with questioning eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know what this is, would you?" I ask, hoping he'll answer my question truthfully.

  His eyebrows knit together before he stands abruptly. "Don't be ridiculous, Miss Davenport," he scoffs. I watch as he smooths down his dress coat before snatching the paper from my hands and pitching it onto the desk. "I have to go. Wait here. I'll be back soon."

  "Where are you going?" I move from my spot on the bed as I shoot to my feet.

  "Out," is the vague answer I get. He's out the door before I can blink, the door slamming shut at his dramatic exit.

  I rush to the door, throwing it open.

  "Where are you going!" I hiss down the hall.

  He turns around, his dark hair falling into his face, with a finger held to his lips before pointing me back towards my room and then proceeding to jog down the staircase.

  Too tired to attempt to chase him, I head back into my room and lock the door before sitting down on the bed.

  Mr. Ashworth is utterly infuriating.

  He's obviously hiding something. That much has been clear from the very beginning. What kind of man carries a gun with them at all times, and would just happen to have drugs stashed in his pockets at all the right moments?

  As I lay my head down on one of the pillows, a heavy feeling of fearful anticipation starts to build in my stomach. I try to ignore it as I slip the sheet and comforter on top of me, squeezing my eyes shut, but it's practically eating me alive. You would think it would be easy to get to sleep after how eventful the past few days have been, but if anything, it's left me more alert.

  I tear the covers off as if my body's moving on its own accord before sitting up and sliding onto my feet again. I don't know how much longer I can go with being caught up in my own thoughts. I need a distraction.

  My hand grabs my key from my bedside table and a few coins from my box before my gaze lands on the map. I swallow as shudder runs down my back while slipping my shoes back on. Grabbing my sweater, even though I'm sure I won't need it, I finally stumble out to the hallway.

  It only takes a moments for me to lock the door before I head down the staircase.

  There are a few people in the lobby of the hotel chatting and one group even playing an intense card game across the hall.

  I walk to the counter, stopping when I'm right in front of the man with the badly managed facial hair. "Do you know your way around this town?" I ask as he watches me without interest.

  "I know it like the back of my hand. I've lived here my whole life, so of course I—"

  Dear Lord. I didn't ask for his whole life story.

  I cut him off with a wave of my hand.  "Would you happen to know the closest bakery around?" I ask.

  He looks miffed at the fact that I interrupted him, but nevertheless answers my question.