To Catch a Vampire by Jennifer Harlow Read Free Book Online

husband,” I chuckle. “I better take care of him.”
    “Of course,” Gloria says. “The four of us should have drinks tonight.”
    “Maybe,” I say. “I’ll see what he says.”
    “And if you get bored or lonely, I’ll be just next door.”
    Not in a hundred million years. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
    “Cole,” she says with a nod. Turning around, showing a perfect upside-down-heart-shaped heinie, she walks back to her room. Wonderful. There’s a nymphomaniac next door. When Oliver stops being dead meat at sunset, he’s dead meat.
    The elevator stops, and Cole opens the gate. My “husband’s” black, pod-like coffin waits on a folding stand with our suitcases right on top. A man in a white tank top, exposing steroid-sized muscles and bald head, pushes it out of the elevator. Cole leads the way to our room, pulling out two keys. He unlocks the door handle first, then the top dead bolt. Good, big on security. Cole opens the door and steps aside as the man pushes Oliver in like a room service tray. I step in next.
    It’s dark in here, more than it should be. I really don’t think it’s in the government budget if I break a hundred-thousand-dollar vase, so I stay by the door. Cole, with no problem seeing in the near pitch dark, picks up a black blob and a motor begins humming. Slowly, light filters in as two slats lift, revealing windows and trees outside. I’ll say one good thing about Oliver; he has great taste in hotels. The room’s as big as a normal house’s living room with an antique armoire, small desk, plush white carpet, and periwinkle French silk lounging chair that matches the walls. The huge man reaches under the king-size four-poster bed and pulls out a wooden stand long enough to fit the coffin.
    While the men move the casket, I meander around the room. Good, only paintings of flowers and meadows. The bed has half a dozen pillows the same baby blue as the thousand thread count sheets. A white and blue comforter completes the bed set. It’s … charming. Not at all what I expected. No mirrors on the ceiling or animal prints. I’ll bet there isn’t even a heart-shaped tub in the bathroom. Two vases full of sunflowers and blue irises sit on top of the dresser and between the huge windows. I walk over to the dresser and smell.
    “Are the flowers to your liking?” Cole asks, looking up from the coffin.
    “Yes. They’re my favorites.” And they are.
    “I know. Your husband wanted to make sure the room was perfect.”
    I can’t believe he remembered my favorite flowers. I told them to Nancy once in passing when she was doing one of those meme quizzes. Oliver was in the room reading. Huh. Well, it was nice of him. “It’s very cozy,” I say. I walk to the closed door on my right, opening it. Wow, nice bathtub. Claw footed and deep enough to fit all of Lake Arrowhead. I know where I’m spending my downtime. Hey, a robe. I pull it off the hanger. Soft as a rabbit. This place sure beats the Days Inn where we normally stay.
    “Mrs. Smythe?” Cole calls.
    “Yes?” I say stepping out of the bathroom.
    “We’ve finished.”
    “Oh.” Both men just stare at me for a few moments. “Oh! Tip!” I run over to the suitcases on the other side of the bed to get my purse. Crud, all I have is five dollars in singles. “Um …” I hand Cole three dollars and the rest to muscles. “Sorry. I didn’t get a chance to get to the bank before we came.”
    Muscles rolls his eyes and walks out. Cole, smiling sympathetically, pockets the money. “Not a problem.” He pulls out three keys and hands them to me. “Here are your room keys and the key to your automobile in the garage on the side of the house.”
    I take them. “Thank you.”
    “The remotes for the windows and television are on the dresser,” he says, pointing. “The windows themselves open onto the patio.” He opens the armoire to reveal a flat-screen television. “The television has three hundred channels. Room service is