Night of the Living Trekkies Read Online Free PDF

was lying on it, but all he could see was a pair of dirty women’s athletic shoes sticking out from under a blanket.
    “Who’s your friend?” he asked, pointing to the cot.
    “My business partner, Karen,” Martock explained. “She does custom-tailored uniforms—Klingon, Cardassian, all the generations of Starfleet. Really nice work.”
    “Is she okay?”
    “She’s just hungover. She went out on the town last night. When she finally crawled back this morning, all she said was that she felt like crap and needed to crash. I hate to think how many commissions she’s missing.”
    “She might have a bug,” Jim said. “There’s definitely something going around.”
    “Or maybe she ate off that nasty buffet over there,” Martock said, pointing to the room’s far corner. “It’s been sitting out all day, with no attendants, no nothing.”
    Jim suddenly remembered Rodriguez and the note in his hand.
    “I’ll check into it,” he said. “Enjoy Mr. Borgsley.”
    Martock offered a halfhearted wave.
    Jim walked to the buffet and found a typical breakfast spread of bagels, sausage, eggs, and cartons of milk and juice. But it wasn’t breakfast anymore. Not even close. The drink cartons floated in a tub of lukewarm water that had formerly been ice. The Sterno candle under the warming tray for the sausage had gone out.
    Jim glanced around the room for Rodriguez or one of his minions. But there wasn’t a single hotel employee in sight. He took out his walkie-talkie.
    “Rodriguez,” he called. “Are you there?”
    No response. Jim stalked through a nearby door, into a service area. He found shelves lined with tablecloths, silverware, warming trays, and napkins, all where they should be. Deeper in the storeroom he passed crates of bottled water, soft drinks, and canned goods—just a small portion of the mountain of foodstuffs the Botany Bay kept on hand at all times, tucked away in various kitchens, freezers, and pantries.
    But still no staffers.
    Jim walked toward an exterior door where the hotel used to take deliveries. It led outside to an accessway—really just a wide alley—bracketed on one side by the hotel, and on the other by an office building.
    He pushed open the heavy steel door and was rewarded with a blast of bright Texas sunshine. The humidity was stifling. He immediately started to sweat.
    And almost immediately he spotted Rodriguez, leaning against the wall with a soda bottle in his hand.
    “What are you doing out here?” Jim said. “You’ve got a breakfast buffet that’s about to go viral.”
    “I’ve been running around all day,” Rodriguez countered. “I’m just taking five minutes to catch my breath. And it’d be a lot more relaxing if I wasn’t being spied on.”
    “I’m sorry,” Jim said. “Sarah sent me.”
    “I don’t mean you. I mean
them
.”
    Rodriguez pointed to the far end of the alley, which opened up next to the Botany Bay’s front entrance. A trick of architecture cast it into deep shadow. Jim could make out a couple of dumpsters and little else. But the longer he stared, the more convinced he became that there were people in the gloom. Several, actually. And they were looking at him.
    “Who are they?” Jim asked.
    “Homeless guys. There’s always a couple down there. Nice shady spot on a hot day. But for some reason they’ve been giving me the eye.”
    “All the more reason to go back to work.” Jim handed him the note from Sarah. “She wants you to call this bakery. It’s about some kind of . . .”
    “D7 battle cruiser cake,” Rodriguez said, nodding. “I’ll deal with it.”
    Jim watched Rodriguez step back inside and then held the door for himself. Before returning to the storage room, he glanced one last time at the end of the alley.
    The people in the dark were still watching.
    It was odd, but it didn’t really add up to anything. The bites on Dexter and Sarah were strange, too . . . but so what?
    Jim stepped back into the hotel and closed the