California Schemin' Read Online Free PDF Page B

my hand thinking of possibilities.
    “Fogel pulled some strings and got you in
under witness protection. I don’t know what he actually told the
hotel, but from what I understand, they think you’re either a
visiting dignitary, an undercover agent, a fugitive from another
country or a movie star with somebody stalking you. The truth never
entered the picture. It’s immaterial to the hotel. The chain gets
paid to keep a certain number of rooms free across the country, and
law enforcement can put anyone they want into them.”
    “So the guy that checked me in thinks I’m a
spy?” This was too good to be true.
    “Probably. Promise me you won’t do anything
foolish there.”
    “Won’t even leave the room, most likely.” Well, probably, anyway .
    I would stay in the hotel. I felt safe in my
tower with the outrageous view and room service. I took a shower.
At first I was self conscious about the lack of curtains, then I
figured anyone diligent enough to find a way to catch a glimpse
into a penthouse bathroom when there was actually something to see
deserved the reward.
    After the shower I lay down on the bed,
looking forward to flipping through channels and watching trash
television. It was a guilty pleasure I almost never indulged in.
Kind of hard to indulge with no TV in the bedroom and only three
channels to boot. I discovered a Sudoku book in the drawer with the
TV remote and looked to see how hard the puzzles were. The trouble
with Sudoku is that it never fails to put me to sleep.
    I woke up mid-afternoon, ordered a turkey
sandwich from room service and flipped the flat screen back on. As
the sun went down and the lights on the mall came on, the city
became even more irresistible. I concentrated on the TV, trying to
ignore the pull of the vista in front of me, but there wasn’t
anything remotely as interesting as the city below. I pulled myself
together, swiped some mascara through my lashes, shrugged on a
jacket and headed out to see the monuments.
    Outside the hotel I thought for a minute
about hailing a cab, or rather having the doorman hail me a cab
while I waited in the warmth of the lobby, but how often was I
going to get the chance to walk the Washington Mall? A woman was
leaning against the brick wall of the hotel. She had stringy brown
hair and wore a stained, camel-colored coat hugged to her body and
ratty jeans. She pushed herself upright and approached me.
    “I can give you a tour,” she said.
“Twenty-five dollars. I can show you everything you want to
see.”
    “Are you a taxi driver?” I asked. There
weren’t any taxis parked nearby.
    “No.” She ducked her head. “You’d have to pay
the taxi separate.”
    “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll
walk.” I started across the street toward the expanse of the mall,
the woman shadowing me.
    “No, really, I’m set,” I said as I stepped up
onto the curb on the other side of the road. She was next to me
matching me stride for stride. “Maybe some other time.” But she
stuck to me as I headed down the sidewalk. A knot was forming in my
stomach, not that I thought I was really in any trouble, it was
just odd. I was a weirdo magnet.
    I looked around for a place where I wouldn’t
be alone and spotted a mounted police officer near the Washington
Monument. I headed toward her. My shadow veered off as I went to
pat the horse and chat with the officer.
    I stood under the Washington Monument for a
few minutes. The marble glowed in the flood light. It was huge and
I felt minuscule. The Lincoln Memorial glowed from the other end of
the reflecting pool and I headed across the grass, down the mall
away from the capital. The reflecting pool was long and I pulled my
jacket around me and increased my speed. I didn't want to work up a
sweat, but I wouldn't mind being just a bit warmer. 
    Like the Washington Monument, Lincoln was lit
by floods. It glowed in the twilight. The lights had come up all
along the mall from the capital to Lincoln and from the