Silver Linings, стр. 23

“Sorry, this is it. Brimstone hasn't exactly been discovered by tourists yet. Don't worry, it's clean. I've stayed here a couple of times myself.” Hugh leaned over the counter and hit the bell.

A few minutes later a thin old man with a leathery face stuck his head around the corner. “What you want?”

“A room for the night,” Hugh said.

“Two rooms,” Mattie hissed.

He ignored her, digging into his wallet for several bills. “The best one you've got.”

“I know you. Yer name is Monk or Bishop or something, ain't it? You was here once or twice before.” The old man eyed the cash and came forward reluctantly. He was working a wad of chewing tobacco with great energy.

“Abbott. Hugh Abbott. The lady wants a room with a bath. Got one?”

“Yep. One. Yer in luck.” The old man made the cash disappear from the countertop. He grinned at Mattie. “Take all the baths you want, ma'am. Be stayin' long?”

“Just overnight,” Hugh informed him as he reached for the battered-looking register. “We're leaving tomorrow morning on the first flight out of here. Hank Milton still operating out at the strip?”

“No. Hank went back to the States six months ago. Got a new guy comin' in once a day in the afternoons now. Leaves at eight in the mornings. Goes to Honolulu but he'll stop off anywhere in between if you pay him enough. Name's Grover. You better look him up this afternoon if you wanna be on his milk run. That plane o' his is small and usually goes out full.”

“What this island needs is more frequent and reliable air charter service,” Hugh said as he scrawled something in the register.

“That it do.” The old man nodded agreeably. “That it do. We're all startin' to get civilized out here.”

Hugh smiled with satisfaction as he picked up the key. “Come on, babe,” he said to Mattie, tossing the key into the air and catching it easily. “Let's get you upstairs. You can take your bath while I look up Grover.”

Mattie eyed the single key in his hand. “What about a second room for yourself?”

“I'll take care of it later,” he assured her as he hustled her up the stairs.

“Hugh, I'm serious about this. I do not intend to share a room with you.”

“I hear you.” He halted at the landing, glanced at the number on the key, and turned to the left. “I won't say I'm not a little hurt, however. After all, you didn't seem to have a problem sharing a room with me last night, did you? But I won't push it.”

“Thank you,” she said dryly. Then a twinge of guilt overrode her better judgment. She touched his arm and looked up at him. “Hugh, I'm not trying to be difficult about this. I just feel it would be better for both of us if we don't start something. I really don't think I could stand to go through a second time what I went through the last time you and I got involved.”

“This is different, babe.” He bent down and kissed the tip of her nose as he stuck the key in the lock.

“You keep saying that, but it's not.”

“Take your bath,” Hugh said as he pushed open the door. “I'll be back in an hour or so. Besides booking that morning flight, I want to get a shave. We'll have dinner at a little place I know down the street. Great burgers.”

Mattie winced. “What about the food in those string bags? There's still some cheese left. Gibbs and Rosey didn't eat all of it on the boat.”

“I don't care if I never see another can of pâté or jar of stuffed olives again. What I want right now is some red meat. See you later, babe.”

Mattie was too weary to argue anymore about anything. She would deal with it later, she told herself as she stood surveying the hot, horrid little inn room.

The bed looked lumpy. The small rug beside it had once been shocking pink but was now gray with grime. The single bulb in the overhead fixture was probably all of twenty watts.

Hugh had called this a nice, clean place, she remembered. Obviously his idea of decent accommodations was somewhat different from her own. He had not even blinked when he'd opened the door and revealed the sleazy interior of the room.

It made Mattie wonder just what sort of accommodations he was accustomed to. She knew that he brushed up against luxury once in a while simply because he had to in the course of working for Charlotte Vailcourt. Furthermore, he had recognized brie and sun-dried tomatoes when he saw them. But it was equally clear he was totally at home in depressing surroundings such as this.

It occurred to Mattie again that she knew next to nothing about Hugh Abbott's past. In fact, now that she thought about it, neither did Charlotte. Mattie remembered asking her aunt about her pet wolf's background on one occasion and Charlotte had simply shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? The man's good at what he does and that's the important thing.”

She put her purse down on the tattered, grimy chenille bedspread. At least no one was pointing a gun at her and there was no blood on the floor. What was more, she could see the ocean from the small window, and the view was spectacular.

Things were definitely looking up.

Downstairs in the narrow lobby Hugh paused to lean over the front desk and bang the little bell.

“What you want now?” the old man asked, not unpleasantly. He was still chewing briskly.

Hugh tugged his wallet out of his jeans pocket and removed a couple of bills. “This is for you.”

“For a second room?” The man's brows climbed derisively.

“No. For saying I am booked into another room in the event anyone, including the lady, inquires. Do we understand each other?”

“We understand each other just fine.” The clerk pocketed the bills without missing a single chew. “Say, you just come from Purgatory?”

“Yeah.”

“What the