Page 57
By now, it shouldn’t surprise me when her shoulders slump and she lets out a groan. “Oh. Really?”
“We have a job to do, remember?”
“I know, but I’ve never been here.” She rubs her eyes with both fists before flipping down the visor to check her reflection in the mirror mounted underneath. “Oh my God. I look like the Crypt Keeper.”
“At least you got sleep.” The thought of sleep makes my eyelids heavier. I crack the window in hopes fresh air will revive me as we get off the freeway. “I’m exhausted.”
“We’re all set with the hotel, right?” She’s bouncing in her seat a little while her head swings like it’s on a swivel, taking in everything around us. “I wonder if we’ll see anybody famous while we’re out here.”
“We’re going to see as few people as possible.”
“Oh, come on. Nobody is looking for me all the way out here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s one of many things I’m worried about,” I mutter through my teeth. “I’m also worried about falling asleep behind the wheel, and fielding questions isn’t going to help with that.”
“I figure it will actually help you stay awake, talking with me.” Before she can pout, she gasps and points through the windshield. “I think I know him! He’s on that show!”
“That narrows it down.”
“You know! The one with the girl spy?”
“I don’t watch TV, remember?”
“I consider it research,” she murmurs.
“I thought you watched porn for research.”
“That too.” There’s a twinkle in her eye when our glances meet at a red light. “You’re giving me all kinds of real-world knowledge I never had before.”
It isn’t easy to stay stern and focused when she looks at me that way. One of us has to remember why we’re doing this, and it clearly won’t be her. “We’re in a life-or-death situation. Let’s not forget that.”
“How could I? I swear, you treat me like a child.” Before I can respond, she squeals. “Can we go see the Walk of Fame? I really, really want to see the Walk of Fame.”
“No.” My patience is at an all-time low when I snap, “Now, be quiet for a minute and let me think. We’re checking in to the hotel under the name Robert Paulson. I need you to remember that.”
“Why Robert Paulson?”
“Because that’s the name on the ID and credit card I’m using.”
“But who is he?”
“It doesn’t matter. Remember the name.”
“I will, I will. Jeez. Bite my head off.”
“I already told you, I’m tired.” The light changes, and we continue rolling toward the hotel.
“It’s not like I got the best sleep of my life, you know. I’m just trying to look at the bright side and find things to be excited about.” When she sighs, her chin juts out in resentment. “So much for that. I should know better.”
“You know we have important things to do.”
“No kidding,” she mutters.
I can’t believe this. I’m negotiating with someone I’m trying to keep alive. But the hotel is a little farther up on Sunset, and I want this problem worked out by the time we get in, or else I risk her saying or doing something hopelessly stupid. “All right. I’ll make a deal with you.”
“I’m listening.”
“If we get out of this alive, we can do whatever touristy bullshit your heart desires. Sound good?”
