Hotel Nigh

Chapter 11

A Writer without Words

Without daring to utter a single word, Melina and I made our way back to my room.

There was an awkward lingering tension around us that seemed to stop any words we wanted to say anyway until we got to my room. As soon as I'd closed the door to my room and Melina plonked herself down on the edge of my bed did the tension seem to obliterate.

"Are you certain this has something to do with you?" she asked tentatively as I joined her on the edge of my bed, though keeping a respectable gap between us. "It could just be a coincidence." She definitely didn't sound like she had any conviction in her own words.

"The last time someone was killed in this hotel was thirty years ago," I reminded her. "Then I show up looking for my brother's killer and suddenly someone else dies? It's too big of a coincidence." My voice lowered. "You know as well as I do this is all because of me."

Melina leaned forwards and rubbed her face with the palms of her hands, groaning slightly. "I feel sick." Then she wandered into the bathroom, closed the door and didn't reappear for a good few minutes.

In her absence, I fell back against the bed and closed my eyes. My thoughts were a swirling tornado wreaking havoc.

Why would Eleanor Leigh – correction, Kimberly Rogers – tell me a fake name but tell everyone else her real name? Did that mean she knew who I was before I even announced my name to her? Mr. Perry knew who I was the minute I confessed my name was Jason McCann, and Melina had a suspicion that I was Ethan McCann's brother. Kimberly knew something about me and now I could never find out what it was because she was dead by most likely the same person who murdered my brother.

Melina suddenly opened the door to the bathroom and walked gingerly out. "I wasn't sick," she said, and now that I thought about it, I hadn't heard any retching noises.

Then I had a sudden light bulb moment. "We should talk to Gerald, the writer next door. He knew who Kimberly really was and he said she was his best friend's grandmother. That must mean something, right?"

Seemingly somewhat satisfied with my proposal, Melina was already standing up so she made it to the door before I did. When I closed the door behind me, I made sure it shut properly before checking that the key card was back in my pocket again. Once assured that it was, I joined Melina outside Gerald's room and she knocked perfectly this time due to not holding a large cardboard box.

Poking his head out in a little crack in the doorway, he opened it further once he realised who it was and knew that we were no harm. "Is there something I could do for you?" he asked us curiously.

"Can we talk inside please?" I prompted, gesturing to the inside of his room.

Apparently unsure of himself, Gerald glanced back over his shoulder but nodded all the same. He moved out of the way hastily and began busying himself with tidying things up in his room whilst Melina and I let ourselves through and loitered in the threshold, confused where to place ourselves. He had a laptop out on the table but the screen was off, several notepads including the one Melina had sold to him scattered around the laptop, and a bunch of random stuff including a suitcase, clothes, other books and even some DVDs on his bed. Was he suddenly leaving?

"Is this a good time?" Melina spoke up from just behind me. I stepped out of the way so she could stand next to me.

"Yes, yes," he assured, shifting around some stuff. It wasn't going to make the room – which followed a similar layout to mine – any neater because the original state of the room was now engraved into my mind. "What did you want to talk about?"