Part 37 (1/2)

Sheila shook her head. ”Not at all. We take the comfort of our guests here very seriously.” She handed Annja a key. ”It's number fifteen on the third floor. You get yourself squared away, and when you come down I'll have Tom set you out a great spread.”

”Tom?”

Sheila indicated over her beefy shoulder. ”Husband. He works the grill in back. Not much of a front-counter man, but he can cook like no one's business. Really knows how to make you a good eat.”

”Awesome.”

Sheila pointed. ”Up two flights, around the corner. Call me when you're coming down.”

Annja started toward the steps and then stopped. ”Say, Sheila?”

”Yep?”

Annja ran her hands over her clothes. ”You don't, by any chance-”

”There's a robe upstairs that should do while I get your clothes washed. Just bring them down when you're coming to eat and I'll have them done for you by the end of your meal.”

Annja smiled. ”I can't tell you how much I appreciate this.”

”Got your credit card with you?”

Annja laughed. ”Yes.”

”All the thanks I need,” Sheila said. ”It's been a bit slow around here of late. Business is always appreciated.”

”I'll bring it down with my dirty clothes.”

”Enjoy.”

Annja walked up the stairs, marveling at the craftsmans.h.i.+p in the banisters and spindles of the railing. Clearly, whoever had designed this building had put a lot of time and skill into its construction. She frowned. From the outside, the place didn't look like much, but inside the rich dark mahogany was polished to a brilliant gleam.

Photographs of the surrounding forest decorated the walls as she took the stairs to the third floor. Either Sheila or Tom must have taken them. From what she could see, they had a good eye for detail. And even Annja, with her limited knowledge of the area, could pick out a few places that looked familiar from her roaming the previous day and night.

Annja crested the third floor and turned to her right. Around the corner, she found the heavy wooden door with the old-style lock on it. She slid the key in and opened the door. It opened soundlessly, again reflecting the care that Sheila and Tom must have put into the place.

In front of her, a double bed piled high with blankets and pillows looked like the most luxurious pile of comfort she'd ever seen. On the edge of the bed, she spotted the thick white terry-cloth robe emblazoned with the initials MH for Milton's Hotel.

Annja heard the water rus.h.i.+ng into the tub and turned the spigot off. Thick clouds of steam billowed out of the bathroom as she began to undress. Bits of leaves, wet twigs and dirt sprinkled the floor as she removed her clothes.

”Gross,” she said. ”I must reek.”

Sheila had taken the liberty of adding some type of bubble bath to the tub. Mountains of bubbles boiled over the edge and the scent of lavender hung in the air.

Annja dipped a foot into the steaming water and instantly felt herself starting to relax. She eased into the tub and slid down until the water came up to her neck.

”Thank G.o.d for the small comforts,” she said.

She closed her eyes and drifted. Thoughts ran together in a melted swirl of images and words. Simpson was trouble. And Annja would have to deal with him before too long.