IN ROOM 33 by EC Sheedy Read Free Book Online Page A

come alone, but considering he wasn't right in the head, Christian had to be careful. "All right, then." He turned the bolt and opened the door a crack. The instant he did, cold tines of fear stabbed at his shrunken lungs. When he opened the door wider, the panic grew. It always did. "Quickly, quickly, boy. Get in!"
    Melly skittered in, and Gordy turned his big body sideways to force himself through the narrow passage created by the partly open door. Christian closed it behind them, relaxed somewhat to hear the bolt hit home, its solid click like a distant rifle shot in the large room. He breathed as deeply as he could to calm himself.
    "You okay?" The boy looked at him curiously, his tone anxious.
    Without being aware of it, Christian had closed his eyes while he took his air. Ancient and shriveled as he was, he probably looked like a cadaver—frightened the boy. "I'm fine, Gordy. Will you help me back to my chair?"
    "Sure."
    Gordy took his broomstick of an arm and walked him to his recliner. He leaned back into it and pushed the button. Down he went. "Melly, my girl, did you have a good walk?" Melly answered with a swirling tail, jumped onto the footstool sitting beside Christian's chair, and put her paws on his armrest. Christian couldn't take the weight of her on his lap, so the footstool, a hand's length away, had to do. He stroked the dog's soft head and crooned, "My pretty girl, pretty, pretty girl."
    "Can I have my money, please? My mom wants me at home."
    "Did you take the girl for a good, long walk?"
    "I did. She likes the park." Gordy smiled at the dog. "She chased a squirrel today. Treed it, too."
    Christian stroked the dog's head again. "A real adventure, eh, Melly?" He lifted his head and jerked it toward the table under the window. "My purse is there. Take three dollars out of it and bring the rest to me."
    He watched the boy go to the table, click open the small leather change purse, and take out exactly three dollars. He showed the money in his hand to Christian. "This right?"
    "Exactly. You're a good boy, Gordy."
    Gordy grinned and handed him the purse, then watched while Christian counted what was left in a ritual they shared every afternoon.
    A man had to be sure. There was always the chance the man-child pocketed extra when Christian wasn't watching. It was all there as it always was. He tightened the grip on the money in his hand, relishing the feel of it, the power of it, the preciseness of the count.
    Christian set the purse aside. "Anything new going on in the hotel?" Another ritual. Daily question period.
    "Nope. Same as always." He brightened. " 'Cept somebody tried to sneak in one night. Left a beer can and broke a window."
    "Where was that?"
    "Room 33,I think."
    "Really." He snickered. Good old Room 33. He went on, "I heard a hammer earlier. Is something broken, Gordy?"
    "Henry's door. He lost his doorknob, but he needed a hinge, too, so Wade was doing it for him."
    Christian's head came up. "That would be Mr. Emerson. Am I correct?"
    "Uh-huh. He fixes things good around here."
    "So I've been told." What he hadn't been told was that the man was still in the hotel. How odd.
    "He could fix your stuck window. I could ask him. If you want me to."
    "No, that won't be necessary." Christian smiled at him. He was a nice boy, really. Rather pretty. If he were twenty, thirty years younger, he would... "What does he look like, this Wade fellow?"
    Gordy frowned. "I don't know."
    "Does he look like that?" Christian nodded to a sepia-toned photograph in a gleaming silver frame. It sat on a table near the French doors leading to the penthouse rooftop patio. Gordy went to the table and picked it up. Seeing it in his hands made Christian's nerves jump. He wanted to shout, put it down, put it down! But he wanted the lad to look at it even more. He'd tried to stifle it, but the longer Wade Emerson stayed in the hotel, the more his curiosity grew.
    "He does. Kind of. Except not so weird." He returned the photograph