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She gazed at him with those beautiful blue eyes, which thankfully weren’t dilated. “I don’t think so.”
“She’s mobile, just has a bleeding cut.” He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. He would be sure to get her checked out at an ER, though, when they left. Which would take a while.
He called Clay, and the FBI agents at the training seminar helped comb the hotel with the in-house security, but nobody could find Evan Winston. A staff member bandaged Gwen’s forehead and suggested she get stitches. All this had happened in the last hour, and now Will tucked the shopping bags under his arm and waited for Gwen to finish giving her statement.
When she reached him, he put an arm around her and pulled her close. She asked, “Did anyone find the car Winston said was waiting?”
“No. No cars idled at the curb. Or at the back of the hotel. I expect Winston told them to leave.”
“After I fell, why didn’t he come after me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he didn’t.”
“Too many people noticed. He wanted to save his own skin so he disappeared.” Clay checked the time on his watch. “I’ve got to get out of here. You guys stay safe.”
“Will you let me know when you arrest him?” Gwen asked, frowning.
She couldn’t be more worried than he was. Will didn’t like loose ends, and Winston wasn’t just loose, he was dangerous.
Clay shook hands. “That goes both ways. If you discover an ID on the man in the business suit, let us know.”
Will watched him get lost in the lobby crowd then studied Gwen. “How’s the head?”
“Okay.” She sighed. “I’m glad that’s over. This was totally my fault. If I’d let you come along, this wouldn’t have happened. Then I was in a hurry to get back to you and not paying attention.”
He tucked her hair behind one ear. “I’m not letting you out of my sight from here on out.”
“At least I didn’t fall apart like yesterday. I stayed calm, like you did when we were hiding in the subway.” She gave him a soft smile. “You’ve been a good influence on me.”
“I need to get your cell phone number.”
“My phone!” She eyes went wide. “Winston ran off with my tote. The phone was in the side pocket.”
“None of the witnesses who recognized his photo mentioned Winston having a bag.”
“Then he must have ditched the tote somewhere around here.” She scanned the lobby in the area near the escalators.
Will did a slow three-sixty. A trash cannister clung to the wall near the store selling souvenirs and drinks. The handles of a blue tote bag hung out of the top opening. He steered her in that direction. “I see it, I think.” He pulled her bag through the hole. “Is this yours?”
“Yup.” She showed him the side binding. “See where this is fraying and the red spot on the bottom from Leslie’s lipstick? This is mine, all right.”
He led her into the lobby bar area, stopping on the way to a table to ask the waitress to bring them two ginger ales.
“And a couple bags of peanuts, please.” Gwen turned to him. “How’d you know about the ginger ale?”
“That’s what you were drinking for lunch.”
“You don’t miss anything.” She sank onto a stool.
“I try to pay attention.” He stowed the shopping bags at their feet.
Gwen sorted through the contents of her bag. “Yay. He didn’t take my cell.”
“Be careful.” Will scowled. “He might have planted a tracker on that.”
“While he was running toward the exit?” She stared at him. “I sort of doubt that.”
“All right, probably not, but let me check to be sure? For my own peace of mind?”
She handed him the device. “I’d be indebted.”
