After Cynthia had been dispatched to the ruined room to salvage what she could of our stuff—to my relief, Matthew offered to go with her—Deneise got down to terms. “You may not want to stay here another night, Miss Connelly, but if you do, we’d love to have you.”

I felt that was less than sincere, but I also didn’t blame the woman.

“If you do decide to stay, of course we’d be glad to supply you with a comparable room free of charge, to show our regret that you’ve been . . . inconvenienced.”

I almost smiled. “That’s an understatement,” I said. “Yes, I’d like to have a room for the rest of the night, but I’ll be checking out first thing in the morning. I have to find something closer to the hospital.”

“How is Mr. Lang doing?” Deneise asked, and I told her he was going to be all right.

“Oh, that’s good news!” She seemed relieved on several different levels, and I didn’t blame her a bit.

Now that the motel situation was settled, I was anxious to get into a room and get clean. The manager called Cynthia on her cell phone and told her to take our luggage directly to room 203.

“I thought you might feel better if you weren’t on the ground level,” she explained as she hung up.

“You’re right,” I said. I thought of the black hole of the window, and I shuddered. My face and shoulders were hurting, I was covered with dried dots and smears of blood, and suddenly I began shivering, now that I had the luxury of time for myself. Now that I thought Tolliver would be all right.

Matthew appeared in the office doorway. “Your stuff’s in your new room, and I don’t think anything is missing. Everything seems to be in your purse.”

I didn’t like the idea of Matthew having access to my purse, but he had been a real help tonight, and I had to give the devil his due. I told Deneise I was grateful she’d been so thoughtful, and with my new key card in hand, I went out to the lobby with Matthew to get in the elevator.

“Thanks,” I said, as it rumbled up to the open area with snack machines and the ice maker. A couple coming up the stairs glanced at us curiously, and when they’d absorbed my bloody state, they hurried away to their room.

“That’s okay,” Matthew said. “I heard the shot, and I heard you scream. I ran across that parking lot pretty damn fast.” He laughed.

I hadn’t even realized I’d screamed.

“You didn’t see anyone in the parking lot?”

“Nope. And it makes me nuts, because the shooter had to have been really close to me.”