Chapter 9
October 1994
Gerry knew he looked like an i***t while he ran down the stairs of the hotel as though the second level was on fire. He could feel the scowl etched into his face, and if he could trust the looks he was being given by other guests as he headed for the lobby, he looked like he was about to rip somebody apart.
“I’m not angry,” he mumbled to himself.
A woman waiting at the bottom of the stairs shrank closer to a potted plant, staring at Gerry with both wide-eyed tension and fascination. He smiled, and continued speaking as if she was the one he’d started the conversation with. “Annoyed, yes. Irritated, sure. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Tell me you wouldn’t be.”
“Is there something I can assist you with, sir?”
Where the tall, dark, well-dressed man had come from, Gerry
