The Player, The Thief and The Broken Heart - Chapter Seventy-Three - Rebecca's Bluff
Rebecca grew stiff as she kept her pose over Yushenko's desk and listened to the keys fumbling in the lock. How long does it take to open a fucking door? She held the handset to her ear and leaned across to make it appear to anyone just stepping into the office that she was in the midst of taking an urgent call on the office phone. If they ever came in, that was.
Finally the door flew open. She scowled at the two men, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Hang on a sec," she said into it, and glared up at the two men in hotel manager uniforms. On the upper floors, Yushenko rotated his staff constantly so they wouldn't learn too many ins and outs of his business. She had no clue who either of these men were although their uniforms and name tags appeared to be legit. Being at the front desk most of the time, nearly everyone knew who she was. She narrowed her eyes at them and snapped, "What's this about?"
"We heard there was an intruder," a younger blond man with a square face said. He didn't seem to recognize her. "Tyrone Woodbridge sent us to investigate before calling the cops in."
"I know – I'm on the phone with them," she said, jerking her head up at the open ventilation shaft. The men looked like a pair of goldfish waiting to be fed as they gawked up, mouths hanging open. "Get out of here – I'm handling this!"
The blond one nodded and backed out into the hallway, but the other one stayed. "Scram!" she hissed at him and said into the phone, "Sorry officer. Just tell the concierge to let you up to the top floor and our head of security, Ray Levkin, will come meet you at the desk across from the elevator. Uh, huh. He can't have gotten far. Thank you."
At the sound of Ray's name, the other man backed out. Ray was notorious for being a major asshole who couldn't stand any of the suits, as he called all hotel staff wearing a maroon jacket, and saw himself as second-in-command at the Golden Dunes. While he wasn't anywhere near that kind of status except in his own mind, peons like those two wouldn't know.
She hung up the phone and sat for a few minutes. She had to make sure they were gone. What a crazy night. How she'd let herself get talked into all this, no idea. And yet half the crew assumed the entire operation had been her brainchild. Neither Jimmy nor Jeannie had thought to question any aspect of that. They'd find out soon enough, she supposed.
She waddled out into the empty hallway, the edges of the envelope scraping against her thighs. Something rumbled overhead and she hoped Jimmy was as bright as Frank claimed. Keeping her ears out for anyone approaching, she crept up to the supply closet. She rapped on the door. "Robbie!" she hissed. "You in there?"
No answer. Fuck. She turned the knob and opened the door. She stared at the stacks of boxes, a chill spreading up her spine. How the hell was she going to pass those documents to them? She couldn't go around like this for the rest of the night.