Rogue Angel - Footprints Part 37

Sheila shook her head. "Not at all. We take the comfort of our guests here very seriously." She handed Annja a key. "It's number fifteen on the third floor. You get yourself squared away, and when you come down I'll have Tom set you out a great spread."

"Tom?"

Sheila indicated over her beefy shoulder. "Husband. He works the grill in back. Not much of a front-counter man, but he can cook like no one's business. Really knows how to make you a good eat."

"Awesome."

Sheila pointed. "Up two flights, around the corner. Call me when you're coming down."

Annja started toward the steps and then stopped. "Say, Sheila?"

"Yep?"

Annja ran her hands over her clothes. "You don't, by any chance-"

"There's a robe upstairs that should do while I get your clothes washed. Just bring them down when you're coming to eat and I'll have them done for you by the end of your meal."

Annja smiled. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

"Got your credit card with you?"

Annja laughed. "Yes."

"All the thanks I need," Sheila said. "It's been a bit slow around here of late. Business is always appreciated."

"I'll bring it down with my dirty clothes."

"Enjoy."

Annja walked up the stairs, marveling at the craftsmans.h.i.+p in the banisters and spindles of the railing. Clearly, whoever had designed this building had put a lot of time and skill into its construction. She frowned. From the outside, the place didn't look like much, but inside the rich dark mahogany was polished to a brilliant gleam.

Photographs of the surrounding forest decorated the walls as she took the stairs to the third floor. Either Sheila or Tom must have taken them. From what she could see, they had a good eye for detail. And even Annja, with her limited knowledge of the area, could pick out a few places that looked familiar from her roaming the previous day and night.

Annja crested the third floor and turned to her right. Around the corner, she found the heavy wooden door with the old-style lock on it. She slid the key in and opened the door. It opened soundlessly, again reflecting the care that Sheila and Tom must have put into the place.

In front of her, a double bed piled high with blankets and pillows looked like the most luxurious pile of comfort she'd ever seen. On the edge of the bed, she spotted the thick white terry-cloth robe emblazoned with the initials MH for Milton's Hotel.

Annja heard the water rus.h.i.+ng into the tub and turned the spigot off. Thick clouds of steam billowed out of the bathroom as she began to undress. Bits of leaves, wet twigs and dirt sprinkled the floor as she removed her clothes.

"Gross," she said. "I must reek."

Sheila had taken the liberty of adding some type of bubble bath to the tub. Mountains of bubbles boiled over the edge and the scent of lavender hung in the air.

Annja dipped a foot into the steaming water and instantly felt herself starting to relax. She eased into the tub and slid down until the water came up to her neck.

"Thank G.o.d for the small comforts," she said.

She closed her eyes and drifted. Thoughts ran together in a melted swirl of images and words. Simpson was trouble. And Annja would have to deal with him before too long.

What's really going on here?

Chapter 20.

By the time Annja emerged from the bathtub, she felt like several layers of gunk had melted off her body. The terry-cloth robe felt like a thick blanket wrapped around her body, and Sheila had even included a pair of slippers Annja hadn't seen until she lifted the robe.

Downstairs, Sheila got her squared away at a corner booth. She smiled as she handed Annja a simple menu. "Feeling better?"

"Almost human, actually. And thanks for the slippers."

Sheila nodded. "Well, your hiking boots don't really go with the robe, and I couldn't have you wandering around here without anything on your feet."

"They feel as nice as the robe."

Sheila winked at her. "I stole them from some big ritzy hotel in Vegas when Tom and I were there a few years back."

"You mean I'm staying with criminals? I'm horrified."

Sheila laughed and pointed at the menu. "See anything you like?"

"One of everything, please. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I got out of the bath. It's as if I haven't eaten in a week."

"The combination of fresh air and the water in the bath will do that to you. Anyway, I'll tell Tom to make you up something great. Any allergies I should know about?"

"Uh...no."

"Good. You wouldn't believe the tourists who stop here from time to time with a whole laundry list of things we can't put in their food. The times certainly have changed from when I grew up."

Annja smiled. "I guess they have."

"I mean, what's wrong with an egg yolk every once in a while? Or a few slices of bacon? It's not going to kill you, is it?"

Annja licked her lips. "You're making my mouth water with all this talk of eggs and bacon."

Sheila nodded. "Okay, okay, I'm off. By the way, your friend is upstairs, too. I set her up across the hall from your room. She should be down soon, although she didn't look as if she was in a very good mood."

"She didn't?"

Sheila shook her head. "She came in looking all glum. I tried to get her to smile but she wasn't having any of it. No idea what's got her so upset."

"An affair of the heart, I'd expect," Annja said. "She came to town looking for one thing and found out that she was here for something else. I think that's got her a little bit down."

"She gets any lower and she can be an anchor." Sheila headed back toward the kitchen and left Annja alone in the dining room. Ten tables sat around the room, scattered in a fas.h.i.+on that wouldn't have anyone sitting right on top of their neighbors. Annja appreciated the fact that Sheila had obviously set up the place for private conversations, if need be. In most of the restaurants Annja had been to lately, the tables were so close together that confidential talk was impossible.

Sheila came back out wielding a coffee pot and a mug. She set the mug down in front of Annja. "This should help wake you up. You look as if you could use about a year of sleep, though."

"I could." Annja sniffed the wafting steam and sighed. "Nice."