Princess Read Free Page B

closet. Three sweaters were neatly folded on an upper shelf next to a big leather purse. At the back of the highest shelf, he found a worn pair of red sneakers, contrasting sharply with the pink silk suit nearby. Why did he get the sense of MTV meets haute couture?
    Curious, Hawk opened her purse and pulled out a well-worn notebook carrying pages full of times, dates and names, along with what looked like detailed descriptions of various hotels. Security assessments of civilian targets? In an inside pocket he found breath mints, dental floss and a half-used packet of birth control pills.
    The lady got around, he thought wryly. Searching one of the dressers, he pulled out an old and well-used laptop. Hawk booted it up, waiting for a password query and security protocols.
    He was surprised when none came. Files filled the screen, organized under neat directories by date, location and what appeared to be hotel names. Hawk took a closer look, puzzled to see precise evaluations of housekeeping, restaurant facilities, public areas and recreation staff. There were records of hygiene compliance and services performed by employees, including names and dates. Occasionally an employee’s name was flagged in red, along with a note about unacceptable work or guest complaints.
    Hawk sat back, staring at the computer. Her security was nonexistent, but the files could have been recorded in some kind of code. If so, it was different from any others he’d seen.
    But guest complaints? Hygiene compliance?
    He noticed the frayed bottom of her leather purse and the hole in her right shoe, lying on its side in the bottom of the closet. A sweater was folded neatly on the desk, and he saw careful stitches across one elbow, where it looked recently mended.
    Who the hell
was
Elena Grimaldi?
    The surf was coming in, murmuring lightly along the hot sand. There were no car payments to worry about, no pennies to pinch. Only the beach stretched before her, with no responsibilities, no schedules—
    Abruptly Jess Mulcahey woke up. Her eyes snapped open as memories returned in a rush.
    Had the hotel found out about her visit in advance? Was that why the man had broken into her room while she showered?
    If only she’d managed to wrench the door open before he’d—
    Before what?
    Shivering, Jess looked down at the towel draped loosely around her body. The last thing she remembered, he’d done something with his hand, and then everything blurred.
    And now she was locked to the bed by some kind of hard plastic cuff that made her whole arm burn.
    In growing fright, she stared out the partially opened door. Was the crazy commando-type in the leather jacket still nearby?
    A drawer closed outside in the little sitting area. She sprawled back on the bed, feigning sleep and trying to ignore the terrified hammering of her heart. Footsteps crossed the hall and approached the bed.
    She could almost see him frowning down at her.
    Somehow she managed not to flinch when his fingers touched her wrist, measuring her pulse beneath the plastic cuff. The blanket beside her shifted, and then the quiet footsteps moved back down the hall.
    A chair creaked, and she heard him speaking on a phone.
    She scowled at her wrist, which was burning savagely. Anger warred with panic as she scanned the room. Then her eyes narrowed on the bedside chest.
    Twisting hard, she opened the drawer with her left hand crossed tight over her chest.
    Telephone directory.
    Blank postcards.
    Laundry schedule.
    Twisting, she looked on the other side of the bed. A bottle of bright pink nail polish lay on the edge of the bed, where she had left it just before her shower. But it was the thought of the tweezer and nail clippers in her carry-on bag that made her heart pound.
    But the bag was on a chair at the far side of the bed. Grimacing, Jess stretched out her free arm, coming nowhere within reach. When her first effort failed, she wriggled down and dangled her foot as far as she could, ignoring the pain