Dangerous Journey Read Online Free Page A

beside her as she drove.
    She hadn’t even thought to ask his name.
     

 
     
    Chapter 3
    “My brother, Alan, will be joining me in my room for a short while,” C.J. told the desk clerk, “If there is any additional cost, just add it to my bill, please.”
    The clerk looked up from the racing form he had been studying, his black eyes darting from. C.J. to the man beside her. His mouth grew pinched as his gaze swept over the man’s grubby appearance. “Your…brother.” He didn't believe her for a minute, and bent over the tout sheets again. “To each his own,” he muttered.
    C.J. gave the top of his head a scathing glare.
    She and the stranger rode the elevator to the fourth floor, and entered her room. It wasn’t very large to start with, and with this man inside it seemed infinitesimal. The room was cheap but clean, painted a gaudy robin’s egg blue, with garish floral drapery and a green chenille bedspread on the double bed. A chest of drawers, a small writing desk and two wooden chairs completed the furnishings.
     C.J. opened the window, feeling the need to do whatever she could to make the area seem more spacious. The window looked out over a courtyard filled with trash cans and bundles of old newspapers.
    The man dropped his bedroll in the corner, his face impassive. “This isn’t a tourist hotel. How did you find it?” he asked.
    “A taxi driver.” She wondered if she should start to quiz him about Alan yet.
    He crossed the room to the window in two strides and leaned out, quickly glancing down, up and to the sides, then withdrew and seemed to relax. Peering at his grubby outfit, he frowned. “If you don’t mind, the thought of a bath…”
    “Please,” she said quickly. “Be my guest.”
    He nodded and went into the bathroom.
    She sank onto a chair, her elbows on her knees, and her head in her hands. Oh, C.J., she thought. What have you done now?
    But almost immediately, Mildred’s long years of training on the care of others came rushing back to her as, hesitantly, she approached the bathroom door.
    “Excuse me,” she called over the sound of water running into the tub.
    “Yes?”
    “If you just toss your clothes out, I’ll send them to be laundered. They do a quick job here.”
    “Great. There’s some more stuff in the bedroll, if you don’t mind.”
    “Oh? Well, sure.”
    “Also, I have a razor with my clothes. I forgot to grab it. If you could hand it to me?“
    “No problem.”
    “And shaving cream. I don’t have any. Do you think you could call room—”
    “Yes!” My God, she thought, have I created a monster?
    He opened the door slightly and handed her his clothes.
    She tried not to face him as she took them, then opened up his bedroll to get the others.
    She called room service, ordering dinner and shaving cream, and sent the stranger’s clothes out to be cleaned. As soon as she heard the water stop running and the slight sloshing as he got in, she returned to the bedroll. In it were his few possessions: a wallet, a pocket knife, a razor and one key. She inspected the wallet, trying to find some clue as to who he was. There was nothing, not one piece of identification. She shook it out.
    Still nothing.
    About fifteen minutes later, a light tap at her door meant dinner. The bellboy looked with curiosity at the mess filling the room as he put down the tray.
    C.J. set the dinner dishes on the small writing table, placed a chair on each side, then sat and waited for the stranger to emerge. Five minutes of silence later, she began to worry.
    She knocked at the door. “Are you all right?”
    “Wonderful. This is great! Want to join me?”
    She jumped back, glad he couldn’t see the blush lighting up her cheeks at the picture her overly active imagination had conjured up.
    “Dinner's here. You don't want it to get cold,” she said, deciding it was best just to ignore his question.
    “Dinner? That’s the one word you could say that would get me out of here. Be with you