Margo rapidly received the impression that people were jerking her around, apparently for the fun of it.
None of the desk clerks had seen Kit Carson, despite what that grinning idiot at the Neo Edo had told her. If Kit Carson had “stepped out for a meeting with the other hotel managers, sorry, I’m not sure which hotel,” Margo would eat her luggage, suitcase and all.
”This is ridiculous!” she fumed, heading for yet another hotel. “He’s got to be here somewhere!”
The desk clerk at the Hotel Acropolis looked at her like she’d taken leave of her senses. “Meeting? What meeting? I am the manager.” The middle-aged woman patted the back of Margo’s hand “Honey, Jimmy probably called Kit, wherever he was, and warned him you were coming. Kit doesn’t much care for unannounced visitors. If I were you, I’d settle into a room someplace, call for an appointment, and meet him at his office.”
Margo thanked her for the advice and left in a hurry, more determined than ever to track him down. If she simply called for an appointment, he’d find some excuse or other to delay meeting her, probably permanently. Margo might be a nobody, but she wasn’t going to remain one and she wasn’t going to let a little thing like impossible-to-get appointments stand in her way. Working as she was against a ticking clock-with a six-month countdown not even God could delay, she simply didn’t have time for failure.
”If I were Kit Carson,” she muttered half-aloud, “and I were trying to find out who was looking for me, where would I go?”