The Price of Greed

CHAPTER 13

Grover stayed put in his room with his cell turned off and not answering the hotel phone either. He ordered a dinner sent to his room but found it hard to eat. His big plan to take the disc and run was eating at him like acid reflux and the more he worried about it the worse it got.

When the knock came on his hotel room door he froze in a panic, unable to answer. After several moments the knocking stopped and he peered through the security lens to find the hallway empty. He started to feel himself going to pieces. What was his problem? Nobody knew what he planned; it was a guilt attack. He cursed his fears and decided to call down for his messages.

When the phone rang he almost leaped out of his skin. He stared at the instrument until it stopped. Paranoia set in again. Why had he ever let his sister talk him into this mess. Greed, that's why and now because he was entertaining an even greedier move, the guilt was suffocating him.

He picked up the phone and called the desk. No messages. No visitors and no, the hotel hadn't sent anyone up to his room. That was it, something was going on and it wasn't looking good for him. Maybe Enland was coming back for some kind of showdown. Or maybe it was that detective Gloria was dealing with. It could even be that twerp, Milo, coming back to threaten him again. It might even be Gloria!

The paranoia grew and Grover began to panic, fearing for his safety. His plane didn't leave until the morning but he needed something now, someone... He quickly found the phone book and began searching the listings, shocked, pleased and surprised at the name he discovered under investigators.

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Jarlayne Brighton growled in annoyance at the persistent ring of the telephone and yelled at the rude instrument as she stepped from her shower stall and grabbed a towel to wrap around her dripping body. She couldn't ignore it in case was her mother who lived alone and often needed assistance.

The answering machine had packed it in the day before and she hadn't got around to replacing it, an act of neglect she was now regretting. Stomping through to the living room and leaving damp prints across the broadloom, brought unladylike curses as she snatched the receiver from the cradle.

"Who's this?" She answered with a snap.

"Jarlayne Brighton? Jarlayne, it's Grover Metcalf... from high school. Do you remember me?"

She blinked and transferred her weight to one leg. "High school? Jesus, do you know how long ago that was?" Water ran into her eye and she dabbed at it, frustrated.

"Seventeen years."

She gave an irritated snorted. "Who is this again?"

"Grover Metcalf?"

"The class science nerd, right? I remember now."

"Listen, please, I don't have a lot of time. I'm calling because I heard you were in the private investigation business... is that right?"

She wiped more water away from her face and patted at the drips running down her leg. "Listen, what is this about?"

"I really need help; I need your help."

"I jumped out of a shower to answer this and I'm dripping all over my carpet, can we do this another time?"

"I need to see you tonight. This can't wait." He pleaded.

"Well I'm afraid it's going to have to. It's eleven o-clock on a Friday night! There's no way I'm going out any more tonight."

"I'm in room four-seventeen at the Addison. I need your help, Jarlayne, please."