Read Online Maximum Security (A Dog Park Mystery) by C. A. Newsome - Free Book Online Page B

could be staying there and
unless she stood out, which our girl doesn’t, they might not
remember her. More employees to interview, too.”
    “She might be staying in one of
those bed and breakfasts in the Gaslight District.”
    “I’m betting not. From what Lia
said, she was uncomfortable with being questioned. A place like
that, they like knowing everything about why you’re in town and
what you’re doing.”
    “Central Parkway it is, then.
Fasten your seatbelt and prepare for take off. This is a short
flight, so we will not be serving any refreshments.”
    The first place they stopped had a
mostly empty parking lot and a gum chewing desk clerk sporting a
nose ring. She looked as tired as the motel. Peter smelled burnt
coffee. There were a pair of unappetizing glazed donuts on a
chipped plate by the coffee maker. The girl glanced at the photo.
“Nah, ain’t seen her.” She snapped her gum for emphasis.
    “Thanks for your time, Miss,”
Brent said.
    She snorted.
    Back in the lot, Brent unlocked his
car. “Did you see those donuts? If they’d showed me those at the
police academy, I would have had second thoughts about becoming a
cop.”
    “You and your doughnut
fetish.”
    “A man has to have a
hobby.”
    They checked the $37 Interstate
Motel just for form. The motel’s iconic sign had overlooked the
highway for decades. It was hard to tell if the exterior paint was
supposed to be that ugly gray, or if time and neglect had drained
the color out of it. They were known to rent rooms by the hour,
catering to participants in sordid couplings, mercenary or
otherwise. Peter was certain the mystery woman with the carefully
coifed hair would never lay her head on these pillows.
    “Comfort Inn looking better?”
Brent arched an eyebrow at Peter on their way out.
    “I haven’t given up
yet.”
    “I bet you tomorrow’s doughnuts
she’s not on this strip.”
    “You’re on.”
    The third place showed signs of
care with neatly trimmed privet hedges and a recent paint job. It
was modest in appearance, with the parking lot hidden behind the
building. It occurred to Peter that this feature prevented
passersby from noticing who was there.
    The lobby furniture was old but
sturdy. The aroma of fresh coffee scented the air. There was an
array of bagels, orange juice and cold cereal set out on a table
for breakfast. Peter imagined they didn't go all out because there
was a Big Boy with a daily breakfast buffet nearby.
    A jowly man with a greying military
haircut identified himself as the manager. He put on the reading
glasses that hung around his neck and peered at the
photograph.
    “Yes, I’ve seen her. Far as I
know, she’s still here. She doesn’t look dangerous.”
    “We don’t think she is. We just
need to talk to her,” Peter explained.
    He turned to his computer, clicked
through screens. “Her name is Kate Onstad. She hasn’t checked out .
. . reserved the room for three weeks. She still has four more
days. Room 227. Would you like me to ring her room?”
    “That’s okay, we’ll go knock on
her door. Do you have a description of her car?” Peter
asked.
    The man scanned the rest of her
registration. “Blue Nissan Altima, Kentucky plates V39- 795.
Oklahoma driver’s license.”
    “That’s very helpful. Thank you,”
Brent said. They stepped out of the office and scanned the parking
lot.
    “No blue Altima. She’s probably
not here.”
    “It’s still early. She might be
down the road, getting breakfast.”
    “Let’s knock on her door, just in
case. Then we’ll check.”
    They were on the metal exterior
stairs leading to the second floor when Peter’s phone
rang.
~ ~ ~
    “When are you going to let Max off
her leash? She learned her lesson. You won’t run away, will you,
Max?” Jim spoke to the dog from his usual perch on the picnic
table.
    “When pigs fly.”
    Max gave Lia a disgusted look and
turned pointedly away.
    “Hold on,” Lia said. “Whose car is
that? Do you recognize it?” Lia