Someone's In My Head (WATTYS AWARD WINNER 2015)

Chapter Nineteen (Pt. 2)

The lady returned the smile and nodded sympathetically. "Must've been a very...intense fight, I suppose?"

Phil chuckled. "You should've seen the other guy." But then his eyes clouded over as the words struck too close to home, and he quickly pretended to be very interested in the colourful decorations on the ceiling.

The receptionist, sensing Phil's mood change, took the cue and swiftly plastered on her professional, we-welcome-your-stay smile once again. "Room for two, sir?"

"Yep."

"One night?"

"Yeah."

"Cash or MasterCard?"

"Cash."

Once the payment was done, the receptionist passed a key over to Phil. "Your room number is one-oh-three; up the stairs, third room on your left. Here's the key. Thank you, and enjoy―"

"Umm, one more thing." Phil bit his lip. "I would love it if you could arrange to have a bucket of ice cubes sent to my room; my wi―mom's feet are terribly sore because of all that walking. Would that be too much of a trouble?"

The lady blinked, surprised at the request, but as her customer-service training kicked in, she quickly smiled. "Oh, no, definitely not. I would have it sent up in a minute."

Phil grinned. "Thank you."

The room was not as spacious as I imagined it would be, but it was cozy enough. After a much-needed refreshing bath, Phil ordered Tanya to sit on the bed.

Hobbling clumsily, Tanya made it to the bed and collapsed onto the fluffy cushions with a contented sigh. "This is paradise."

Phil grabbed a dry towel and the bucket of ice and climbed onto the far end of the bed. "It would've been a better paradise fifteen years ago." He muttered darkly.

The atmosphere nosedived from 100 to 0 real quick. Tanya folded her arms. "Do you think who killed Lenny would be after us too?"

Phil took two pillows and inserted it under Tanya's legs, effectively elevating them. "Yes, they will―if they know we're still alive."

Tanya frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This is gonna bite a little." Phil dabbed the homemade ice pack against Tanya's sprained ankle. She winced, but sighed in relief as the cold eased the throbbing pain in her ankle. Satisfied with his handiwork, Phil gave Tanya a good-natured pat on the other leg. "Keep that on for twenty minutes."

"Thanks." Tanya adjusted her foot slightly. "So you're saying we're safe now?"

"For the meantime, yes." Phil shrugged. "They might think we're dead, but sooner or later they're gonna find out that there was only one corpse in the Mustang. And then they'll come after us."

Tanya shuddered at the thought of it. Then, probably to distract herself from everything that has happened in the last 24 hours, Tanya snatched the TV remote off the bedside table and turned on the television.

The news reporter was blabbering away. "Authorities strongly suspect that the two cases could be connected, as the same man, known as Jarod Wickernham, was spotted in the security footages of both buildings."

Shit!

Two pictures flashed onscreen. The first one was me in the orange shirt and the rotten steak cap, striding purposefully through the hallway of Redwood Hospital. Even though I'd made sure that my cap was worn low enough to cover my identity, they had still managed to get a partial photo of me. Blasted CCTVs.