His eyes naturally went rolling. We then headed to the front desk. “Hello,” I said to the guy standing there. “Can you please tell me which room Curtis Cunningham is staying in?”
Matty raised his hand. “He’s expecting us.” Or he’s expecting Satan. One or the other. But we didn’t tell the desk guy that.
The man smiled and punched the name into his system. He then squinted. He then frowned. He then picked up a phone and whispered something to someone in what I assumed was Hebrew. I mean, we were in Israel, and so that seemed a good guess.
“Something wrong?” I asked him once he was off the phone.
“Um…” His eyes darted everywhere but onto mine or Matty’s. “There’s been a…”
A door opened from behind him. A man in a suit appeared. Next to that man was what looked like a guard. He was dresse
