Other People's Baggage Read Online Free PDF

someone here, but I need to leave,” I whispered. “Would it be possible to leave a message with you?”
    â€œSure,” she said, her hand fishing through the pocket of a faded blue floral apron tied around her waist.
    She handed me a ballpoint pen and a blank order ticket. Hastily I scribbled on it. Mr. Jordan. I couldn’t wait. Please meet me tomorrow morning for breakfast. Madison Night (room 319). I folded the paper and wrote “Jack Jordan, Hotel Security” on the more blank of the two sides of the paper. I held it out to her and she took it.
    â€œAre you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
    â€œWorse than a ghost, I think. Is there a way out of here other than the entrance past the bar?”
    She looked over her shoulder. I followed her gaze. The men were gone and I didn’t know which direction they’d headed.
    â€œThere’s the service elevator off the kitchen, but I can’t let you take it.”
    â€œPlease,” I said. I reached out and put my hand on her forearm. She looked at it, then back at me.
    â€œAre you sure you’re okay?” she asked again.
    My mind scrambled for something to say without sounding crazy. “I’m sorry. I’m on a bit of medication from an injury last week and I feel woozy. I should get back to my room.”
    â€œLet me get someone from the hotel to escort you back to your room.”
    â€œWait, do you have a wheelchair?” I asked.
    â€œYes.”
    Before I could stop her, she left.
    I knew I wasn’t woozy from medication. Aside from the jetlag, my mind was clear. I looked around the room again and picked out Louis, Brad, and Grey Suit at the bar, their backs to me. I wasn’t sure where Harrison the Concierge had gone, but this was as good a chance as any for me to get out of there. I stood up and reached for the crutches, then headed past the other guests toward the kitchen. A collapsible wheelchair sat against the wall. I looked through the glass on one of the doors and saw the cocktail waitress talking to Harrison.
    I put my head down and left the way I’d come. I reached my room undetected. I threw the crutches on the carpet and sat on the bed. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to find out what was going on. I needed an ally.
    I dialed the operator. “Hello, this is Madison Night in room 319. I’m trying to reach Jack Jordan from hotel security. Is there a way to reach him?”
    â€œHold for a moment and I’ll ring the concierge desk,” she said politely.
    â€œNo!” I answered quickly. “Please don’t. Is there a way to get a message to him directly, without involving anyone else from the hotel?”
    â€œI can page him to call me. What would you like the message to be?”
    â€œTell him I’m sorry I had to cancel—no. Tell him I need to see him—no, not that either. Can you tell him to call me?” I held my breath, knowing how I sounded. “It’s in regards to an issue with the hotel.”
    â€œMs. Night, if your room is somehow unsatisfactory, I can try to make different arrangements for you.”
    â€œNo, that’s not it. There’s something going on tonight he needs to know about.”
    â€œMs. Night, are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked.
    â€œPlease page Mr. Jordan. I’ll be in my room waiting for his call.”
    My knee throbbed. I leaned back on my tush and spun until I was long ways on the bed. My foot kicked the suitcase balanced on the luggage rack by the end, and the case tipped over, spilling the contents onto the floor. On top of everything else, I knew the cross-dressing germophobe would have serious issues knowing his stuff had been in contact with hotel-grade carpet. But now that the contents had been spilled onto the floor, there was no way to pack it back the way it had been packed. Which meant, I might as well take advantage of the opportunity to see if there was anything