Thompson left the motel room. Walked along the balcony to the stairs then down into the reception area. A young girl with short auburn hair, sleepy brown eyes, sat at the reception desk. She smiled at him showing teeth that had been professionally whitened. She probably smoked he thought.
He said to her, ‘My name is Thompson. I work for the Prosecutors Office. What’s your name?’
‘What?’
‘What. Is. Your. Name?’
‘Bella.’
‘Who was working the night shift last night?’
‘Wayne.’
‘Wayne who?’
‘I don’t know his last name.’
‘How long has he been working here?’
‘Three weeks.’
‘His name and number please.’
‘I… I, um, the duty manager. He’s out the back, hang on a sec.’
‘Thanks.’
A guy in a white shirt, black pants and wearing thin black glasses came out with Bella from the back office.
