Belly of the Beast Read Online Free PDF Page A

agent back at the arrival gate. “It will be a while before we can get someone from cleaning into it. Did you fill out a lost and found slip at Customer Service in the baggage area?”
    Niki staggered back to baggage and struggled through the lost items form while the service agent rolled her eyes. “When the plane had trouble, the drinks were free,” Niki offered as a defense. “But I only had one.”
    At least the hotel is prepaid, thought Niki. She remembered the twenty dollars in her pocket, the one Tex had picked up for her. She felt for it, thanked God it was still there, and put it in the envelope with Alex’s picture.
    Outside, she walked along a line of yellow taxis. A foghorn echoed in the distance, jetliners whined somewhere above. Cold rain dripped down her neck.
    “Taxi, lady?”
    “I need to get to my hotel.”
    “Sure thing. Which one?”
    Niki got out her notebook. “I didn’t lose my notebook.”
    “Beg your pardon?”
    “I’ve got the name here.” She opened her notebook.
    The driver glanced at it. “Is this some kind of a joke?”
    “Sorry. Wrong page.” Niki flipped to the first page where she had written the addresses in English.
    The driver glanced at it. “The Sinbad on Lombard. I thought they tore that place down.”
    “I hope not.”
     
    “Long trip?” the cabbie asked as he negotiated the highway up the coast.
    Niki nodded. “I had to take some ...”
     
    “Sixteen fifty.”
    Niki shook herself awake. “What?”
    “Eighteen fifty with a tip,” the cabbie said holding the door open. “That’s your hotel.”
    Beige paint peeled from the weathered clapboards of a three-story building that seemed old enough to have survived the Great Fire and looked prime for the next. A rusted fire escape hung ominously down the front.
    “Eighteen dollars for the taxi? It’s so expensive.”
    “You ain’t in Kansas, lady.”
     “I’m from Colorado. I left my purse on the plane. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
    “Look I’ve already been stiffed twice this month. I’m not a one-man charity.”
    “I have twenty dollars. I was going to buy breakfast, then I fell asleep and—”
    “All I need is sixteen-fifty. Forget the tip.”
    Niki pulled the twenty-dollar bill from the envelope, and Alex’s picture came with it. She gasped as it fluttered to the gutter.
    The cabbie grabbed it and wiped off the muddy water. “Your boy?”
    Niki fought back tears. “It’s the only photo I have left. The rest were in my—”
    “Purse?”
    “Backpack. I lost it too.” Niki took back the photo. “He’s got—” she began but could not finish.
    “Cancer? I saw the address for that children’s oncology hospital in your book.”
    Niki nodded. “Acute lymphoblastic leukemia. He needs a bone marrow transplant. They tested his father and me, but we weren’t good enough matches. Then they tested his aunt and her—”
    The cabbie cleared his throat and closed Niki’s hand back on the twenty. “I just realized you’re my ten thousandth customer. You ride free. Merry Christmas.”
     
    The Sinbad was as old inside as out. The lobby carpet had been worn by a century of travelers searching for adventure, opportunity, a night out of the rain, or just a half hour of comfort.
    The desk clerk eyed Niki as she stepped the counter. “Day rate or hourly?”
    “I have a reservation, Niki Michaels, it’s prepaid.”
    “Sorry, no Michaels.”
    “But Rob said—”
    “Rob Wright from Colorado?”
    Niki nodded.
    “We’ve got a problem with his credit card. I’ll need some other form of payment, like cash.”
    “I just lost my purse.”
    A guttural sound slipped from the man’s throat. “Right.”
    “I’m supposed to check back with the airline in a while to see if they found it. My pack is lost too. Look, I need some sleep.”
    The clerk checked his watch. “The manager should be back in an hour, check back about four-thirty.”
    “Is there a phone I can use?”
    “There’s a