You Bet Your Life: a Toby Peters Mystery (Book Three)
“Curtis Katz was at the desk looking just slightly wilted at the end of an all-night shift. He gave me the hint of a smile.
“I’m checking out,” I said. “Get my bill ready. I’ll be right down.”
“I hope it wasn’t—”
“No,” I said, hurrying to the elevator. “Urgent business back in Hollywood. Gable needs me. You know how it is.”
Katz knew how it was. The elevator boy put his newspaper down and brought me up to six. By the time I reached my door, the power of Ian Fleming’s elixir had just about worn o...ff. I turned the key and kicked the door open with my foot. No one shot at me. I switched on the light, did a quick check of the bathroom and closet, put on my holster and .38, and snapped one of the locks of my suitcase (the other was broken when I bought it). Since I had never unpacked, the whole process took me about two minutes.
I paid Katz with a check when I got back to the lobby. My account in L.A. might just barely cover it, and I couldn’t afford to give up any cash.MoreLess
“I’m checking out,” I said. “Get my bill ready. I’ll be right down.”
“I hope it wasn’t—”
“No,” I said, hurrying to the elevator. “Urgent business back in Hollywood. Gable needs me. You know how it is.”
Katz knew how it was. The elevator boy put his newspaper down and brought me up to six. By the time I reached my door, the power of Ian Fleming’s elixir had just about worn o...ff. I turned the key and kicked the door open with my foot. No one shot at me. I switched on the light, did a quick check of the bathroom and closet, put on my holster and .38, and snapped one of the locks of my suitcase (the other was broken when I bought it). Since I had never unpacked, the whole process took me about two minutes.
I paid Katz with a check when I got back to the lobby. My account in L.A. might just barely cover it, and I couldn’t afford to give up any cash.MoreLess
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