Religion [J.P.M.]

one.

I stepped out of the cab, hauling my suitcase behind me.  It was October 28th, 2 days before Devil's Night.  Looking at my watch, I shut the door behind me and approach the front door of the Hotel Cortez.  I push the door open, causing the bell to chime above it, and walk over to the main desk.  Empty.

"Hello?" I say, swiveling the guest book around and scribbling my name in it.  "For a hotel full of people it sure is hard to get some service in here."

"A hotel full of dead people." A voice says.  Liz comes out of the office behind the desk with a smile.  "If it isn't the fabulous Chanel Ramirez."

I go around the desk, arms outstretched.  "In the flesh.  How is the stunning Liz Taylor?"

We embrace and after a few seconds, she pulls away.  "Wait until March hears that you've arrived, he'll be ecstatic."

"Yes, I'm sure that old bastard is just in awe at my arrival." I laugh and glance around the large lobby.  "It feels great to be back."

"It's great having you back.  Now, March specifically asked me to send you up to him when you arrived.  Don't worry about your bag, I'll have it sent to your room."  Liz explains, grabbing a key from one of the hooks behind her and setting it on the desk.  "Go on now, you know how he gets when he's kept waiting."

I sigh and cross the room to the elevator.  Stepping inside, I press the button to March's floor out of habit and the doors close.  Checking my reflection in the metal of the elevator door, I pull the flask out of my purse and take a swig before stowing it away.

The doors open and I'm greeted by an always formal James Patrick March.  He smiles malevolently and steps aside, allowing me entrance to his elegant room.  I step out of the elevator and felt his eyes burning into me as I gazed around the oh-so-familiar room.  I turn and look at him.

"Well?  Are you going to offer to take my coat?"