I was not the type of caretaker to force my way inside any guest’s room, but I didn’t consider Simon DeRue just any guest. Something peculiar occurred in room 202 and I wanted to get to the bottom of it. Wrongdoings were occurring in the room. Drugs. s*x. Cinematography. And God only knew what else.
“Barker?” Simon said, answering the door, surprised to see me. His eyes were wide. His mouth hung open. His posture tightened. No shirt. Hard n*****s. Smug smile. Question in his handsome eyes. Alertness.
I pushed on the door with one shoulder and stepped inside. A cloud of m*******a smoke welcomed me, hitting me hard. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smoked pot. Fifteen years. Maybe longer. Two bottles of whiskey, one bottle vodka, and glass tumblers decorated the room. A tiny, foldab
