Chapter 4 - THE LOBBY GHOSTS
The walk from the terrace to the front desk was the longest journey of Trevor's life.
He was followed by his parents,
his sister,
and their cousins,
all of them whispering in sharp,
hissing tones.
"Trevor,
fix this!"
Diane demanded,
her face flushed with embarrassment.
"This is our anniversary trip!"
They reached the marble lobby,
the same place where they had left Audrey standing alone two hours earlier.
Audrey was nowhere to be seen.
Only her suitcase remained,
tucked neatly behind the concierge desk.
Trevor approached the counter,
seeing Owen,
who was still on duty.
"There’s a mistake with our rooms,"
Trevor said,
trying to sound authoritative.
"My wife,
Audrey Bennett,
checked us in earlier."
Owen looked at him with a face that was as blank as a fresh sheet of paper.
"I'm sorry,
sir,"
Owen said.
"But I don't have an Audrey Bennett registered at this resort."
Trevor stared at him,
his mouth hanging open.
"What?
I saw her standing right here!"
"She paid for five suites!"
"Ah,"
Owen said,
leaning forward slightly.
"You mean the reservations made by Ms. Thorne?"
"Thorne?"
Trevor repeated,
the name sounding like a foreign language.
"That’s her maiden name."
"Ms. Thorne was here,"
Owen confirmed.
"However,
she cancelled all reservations under that name."
"The suites are currently unassigned and back on the market."
Diane let out a small,
strangled cry.
"Cancelled?
She can't do that!"
"Actually,"
Owen said,
"as the sole owner of the account and the person who provided the deposit,"
"she has every right to do so."
"If you would like to re-book the rooms,"
"we have availability,
but the current rate for a walk-in oceanfront suite is fifteen hundred dollars per night."
"And we require a full deposit for the week."
Brooke stepped forward,
her eyes blazing.
"Just give us the key to our room! Our stuff is already in there!"
"I'm afraid not,"
Owen replied.
"Your luggage has been moved to a secure holding area."
"It will be released once the outstanding balance for the dinner at the terrace has been settled."
Trevor felt a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
Seven people.
Six more nights.
Fifteen hundred dollars a night.
He did the math in his head and felt like he was going to vomit.
"Where is she?"
Trevor asked,
his voice cracking.
"Where did Audrey go?"
Owen looked at him with a flicker of something that might have been pity,
if it wasn't so close to satisfaction.
"As I told you,
May you like
sir,"
"Ms. Thorne is not a guest at this hotel."
