The Hotel – 37

I was part way through the third chapter of my book when I heard footsteps and then someone sat in the chair next to mine. My pulse quickened until I turned and saw Ramsey.

"You're looking better," I said.

He grimaced. "Remind me the next time I order a drink that I'm off booze forever."

I chuckled. "When have I heard that before?"

He sighed. "The last time I got stupidly drunk? But—" he held up a finger, "—that was three months ago."

"When you and what's her name broke up." I looked hard at him. "Did you, were you interested in Tessa?"

He worried his lip between his teeth. "Yeah, I was, for all the good it did me. Then, after her argument with Jenn, I thought maybe I could step in and—" he shrugged, "—you know. That was before I saw her take off with the bartender. And now she's dead, damn it." He buried his face in his hands.

Right now I wished Orville, or Edwin, or hell any of the shifters were around and could hear him. I'd give my eyeteeth to know how much of what he was saying was the truth and how much was him using his acting skills to try to convince me he wasn't lying. If he had run into her after she left Vern's suite and she was still upset about Kirby and Jenn, it would have given him a good reason to suggest they take a walk until she cooled down. From there, if he made a play for her, as Edwin had suggested when we talked about it last night, and she laughed at him… A possibility with no way to prove it. But then, so far, there was no way to prove anyone in the troupe was her killer.

I patted Ramsey's arm, suggesting he get something to eat. "It might not help you emotionally, but it will do something for your hangover, which would be a good idea since we're putting on the show again tonight."

"Oh boy. Okay. I won't argue with you about eating." He chuckled. "When have I ever done that?"

"Never?" I replied, laughing as he got up and went inside to see what was for lunch.

I considered doing the same but I wasn't hungry so I went back to my reading, using it to push aside everything that had happened since we came up here. Okay, not everything. Edwin, and our relationship if you could call it that, floated in and out of my thoughts. I did like him, there's no denying that. But I'm not a dreamer who believes it's possible to overcome the odds. When we, the troupe that is, finally leave I knew it would be the last I'd see of him. That doesn't make me exactly happy, but it is what it is, I supposed.