He went out while Ben, Willow, and the small crowd gathered behind them waited expectantly. He was back quickly, another man in tow. Someone with more authority, Ben hoped.
He was not disappointed. “Mr. Bennett, I’m Winston Allison, Assistant Manager. I understand that there has been some sort of mix-up in the reservations you booked? I’m sorry about that. We do have rooms available for you and Miss Fisher.” He smiled broadly at Willow, clearly assessing her potential for star status. “Would you still like a suite?”
“Yes, Mr. Allison,” Ben replied, “Miss Fisher and I would like that very much.”
“Well, then.” Allison spoke quietly to the clerk, who nodded. “For how long will you need the suite, Mr. Bennett?” he asked.
“A week at the outside.” Ben smiled. “Our shooting schedule only calls for three, possibly four days.”
The clerk began writing, then passed Ben the registration forms. Ben filled them out quickly, using a bogus studio reference for a business name, still playing his role to the hilt, and passed the forms back. The crowd behind them began to disperse again, moving on to find some new attraction.
“I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Mr. Bennett, Miss Fisher,” Allison said, smiled once more, and went back to wherever he had come from.
“The rate for the suite is four hundred and fifty dollars a night, Mr. Bennett,” the clerk advised, consulting the registration forms officiously. “How will you be paying for this?”
“Cash,” Ben answered nonchalantly and began thumbing through the roll of bills. “Is one thousand dollars a sufficient deposit?”
The clerk nodded, stealing another quick glance at Willow, smiling warmly when she noticed him looking.
Ben proceeded to count out the sum of five hundred dollars in fifties, then noticed something odd about one of the bills. He paused, slowly worked a new bill free of the roll as if the bills were sticking, and looked closely at its face.
Ulysses S. Grant’s picture wasn’t on the bill. His was. He surreptitiously checked another bill and another. His picture was on every one, bigger than life, and looking not a thing like Grant’s. He felt his heart drop. Questor had messed up again!
The clerk was looking at him now, sensing that everything was not quite right. Ben hesitated; then, unable to think of anything else, lurched forward suddenly against the counter, hands clutching at the bills, his breath coming in gasps.
“Mr. Bennett!” the clerk exclaimed, reaching out to catch him.
Willow’s hands clutched at him as well. “Ben!” she cried before he could do anything to stop her.
“No, no, I’m quite all right,” he assured them both, praying the clerk hadn’t noticed that she had used a different name. “I wonder… could I go directly to my room and lie down a bit? Finish this later, perhaps? The sun was a bit too much, I think.”
“Certainly, Mr. Bennett,” the clerk agreed hastily, summoning a bellhop instantly. “Are you certain you don’t need medical help? We have someone on staff if…”
“No, I’ll be fine… once I’ve rested a bit. I have my medicine. Thank you again for your help.”
He smiled weakly, pocketed the bills once more, and gave a silent sigh of relief. With Willow and the bellhop both holding tightly onto him, he moved off through the crowded lobby. Another silver bullet dodged, he thought gratefully.
He prayed that Abernathy was having the same sort of good fortune.
* * *
“All right, students, quiet down now! Everyone find a seat! Let’s have your attention, please!”
The energetic young principal of Franklin Elementary in Woodinville, Washington, walked to the center of the gymnasium floor, microphone in one hand, other hand held high and signaling for order, voice booming out over the loudspeaker system. The K through sixth graders slowly settled down on their bleacher seats, the din of their voices dying into a rustle of anticipation. Elizabeth sat six rows back with Eva Richards. She watched the principal glance at a man who stood to one side, his lanky frame slouched, a smile on his bearded face. The man reached down and scratched the ears of a small black poodle who sat obediently beside him.