The Inn Between Page 6

  Quinn studied the shimmering surface again. Along the sides were painted markers she hadn’t noticed before. Four feet in the far end. Six feet below.

  “But … the bottom…” she began. Her voice trailed off as Josh dipped, touching the base of the pool with flat feet. He held his arms straight up. The water barely covered the tips of his fingers. Quinn rubbed her temples. She hadn’t imagined the depth. She couldn’t have. Could she?

  Despite Kara’s coaxing, Quinn refused to enter the water again. Instead, she lay on a chaise under the canopy of the umbrella as the morning melted away.

  Kara insisted Josh check the front desk to see if their parents had returned. He made several trips, each time returning with no news.

  Kara alternated sitting with Quinn and cooling herself in the water. She tried to get Quinn to join her, but Quinn wanted nothing to do with the pool.

  Quinn closed her eyes. Even out of the direct rays of the sun, her skin burned. Each breath sent searing air into her lungs. But she resolved not to go back into the pool, not even if she burst into flames.

  Judging by the sun’s position it was now afternoon. Kara’s parents had been gone for such a long time. They had to be back soon.

  Above, black dots circled. Turkey vultures. Their movement was mesmerizing. Quinn watched for a long time. Round and round and round. She was about to search the pool for Kara when her eyes snagged on a window in the topmost floor of the hotel.

  She saw a figure framed in glass. And though the sun was blindingly bright and the window way up high, Quinn was positive she recognized the silhouette—a slight figure. Wearing a pink cap …

  Quinn slid from the chaise. The world around her swirled to black.

  12

  “EMMA!”

  Quinn stands at the edge of her driveway, yelling into the dark street. The front door is wide open. She hears her mother’s frantic voice drifting out from the living room. She’s on the phone, speaking to Quinn’s father, who is late at the law firm as usual. Quinn catches bits and pieces, though she’s only half listening.

  “… heard from Emma? Did she call you?… not home. No, they didn’t come home together … worried sick.”

  They didn’t come home together. Home together. The words rise and fall in Quinn’s mind like an echo.

  “Call family,” says Quinn’s mother. “I’ll try friends. Neighbors. Come as fast as you can.”

  It’s a new moon. The sky is black. Quinn searches up and down the street but there is no sign of her sister. Quinn wants to run one way, then the other. Instead she is paralyzed, frozen to the spot, while her mother is driven into motion.

  “Quinn!” her mother yells. “Get back inside!”

  But Quinn can’t move. She can’t leave the driveway. Fear, like black ink, has seeped inside her, pooling in her bones. The wind slashes her cheeks and hands. She barely notices.

  Quinn’s mother calls more people—all of Emma’s friends. Emma has lots of friends. Everyone loves Emma. But no one has seen or heard from her. Not since school ended.

  “… Yes … Yes … Come. You can help. Please.”

  Quinn can barely breathe. Her heart has stopped pumping. The blood has stopped flowing in her veins. She has turned to wood and grown roots.

  Emma is okay, she tells herself over and over. She’s gone off somewhere. She’s hiding. She’ll show up in a few minutes smiling her brightest smile and asking what all the fuss is about.

  “Quinn!” yells her mother a second time. “Come inside!” She’s holding her cell phone. She reaches for Quinn as she dials 9-1-1.

  “My daughter…” she huffs, “… she’s missing…” She gives them a description. Fair. Auburn hair. Hazel eyes. Tall for her age. She gets lost in the details of Emma’s beautiful face.

  Everything is happening in a blur of sound and motion.

  Quinn’s father arrives. So do the police. Friends and family prepare to search. Everything whirs in and around Quinn as though she’s not there, as though she’s slipped into another dimension—one that moves at an entirely different pace, one that is deaf to the sights and sounds of this world.

  Kara arrives. She takes Quinn by the hand, dragging her back to the real world. She walks Quinn inside.

  The police question Quinn. She answers them mechanically. She tells them how she had to stay late at school, about the copied assignment. She says she’s a thief. A word thief. She tells the story over and over so many times she loses count. She tells them everything—every last detail—but one. She can’t bear to tell anyone that. Not even Kara.

  The neighborhood is alight with flashlights. Police and neighbors and friends are searching. Quinn watches through the front window. She wants to be out there searching, too, she begs to go, but her parents force her to stay behind. Mrs. Cawston and Kara have to practically hold her down.

  “Let me go,” she says, struggling. “I should be out there. I have to find Emma. I have to be the one.”

  Kara talks quietly. She calms Quinn, tells her everything will be okay. Emma will be home soon. Kara is so positive, so reassuring, Quinn almost believes her.

  Each second passes like a thousand eternities. Quinn sits, just breathing, trying to make sense of what’s happened. What is still happening. It’s like everyone and everything is slipping and sliding away from her. If only she can sit still long enough, if she can just keep breathing, she can hold it all together.

  A policewoman enters the house followed by Quinn’s mother. She carries something. Quinn sees it and it’s like a hard punch to her stomach. She can’t breathe. It’s as though some invisible beast has sucked up all oxygen, leaving barely enough for Quinn to fill half her lungs. Nothing will ever be okay again. Nothing. She crumples to a heap on the floor, sobbing and gasping for air.

  The officer holds Emma’s orange backpack.

  13

  COLD WATER SMACKED QUINN’S FACE. Her eyelids fluttered.

  “Quinn? Quinn? You okay?”

  The world fizzed into focus. Kara was inches away, her expression twisted with worry. Quinn tried to sit up, but sank back onto the hot cobblestones. “Emma,” she muttered. “Em.”

  Kara and Josh exchanged curious glances.

  “Heatstroke,” said Josh. “I told her to come into the water.”

  “Hush,” said Kara. “Give me that glass.”

  Quinn held up a limp hand and turned away. She thought Kara was going to douse her again with ice water. Instead, Kara slipped her arm under Quinn’s neck.

  “Here. Take a sip.”

  Kara tipped the glass, just enough to wet her friend’s lips. Quinn opened her mouth and let the cool liquid run down her throat. She took another sip and raised her head. She gripped Kara’s shoulder. “It’s Emma. She’s here.”

  Kara took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She looked at Josh, then back at Quinn. “You passed out. You must have been dreaming.” Her voice was soft and comforting, but her words were firm.

  Quinn searched past Kara, past Josh, toward the hotel. She squinted and scanned each of the windows of the topmost floor. There was no pink-capped figure staring down at her. She couldn’t understand it. She was so sure.

  “Listen, Kara. I saw her. She’s here. Emma is here.” Quinn hoisted herself back onto the chaise and took the glass from Kara’s hand. She drank a few more mouthfuls and set it down. “You have to believe me. I saw Emma. It was her.”

  “Riiight,” said Josh slowly. “Like the time you saw her at the zoo?”

  “And the time we had to chase after that girl at the mall with the same jacket as Emma?” said Kara.

  “And all those pink caps,” added Josh.

  She shook her head. “This was different. I swear. This time I really saw her. I have to find her.” She tried to stand, but Kara pulled her down.

  “Quinn. You passed out. You must have thought you saw her. Josh, go get help.”

  “I’m fine.” Quinn shrugged free from Kara’s hold.

  She stood up, still a
bit weak in the knees, steadying herself against the top of the chaise, and stepped into her boots. She darted toward the side of the hotel where she’d seen Emma, shading her eyes, searching all the windows once again. She could feel the other guests watching her, including Rico, but none of them mattered. All that mattered was Emma.

  “Satisfied?” called Josh.

  “Emma is here. I know she is.” Under her breath, she added, “And I’m going to find her.”

  Without warning, Quinn sprinted the length of the pool toward the entrance to the hotel. Over her shoulder, she heard Kara shouting.

  “Quinn! What are you doing? Josh—grab your stuff! Quinn! Wait!”

  Before Kara could catch her, Quinn ducked inside the hotel, made a sharp turn, and disappeared into the corridor that led into the wing where she’d seen Emma. Behind, she heard Kara’s muffled calls, but Quinn wasn’t going to stop, not until she’d found her sister.

  The hallway seemed endless. Quinn ran as fast as her jittery legs would carry her. She searched frantically past door after door for a stairwell that could not be found. Somewhere on the topmost floor, Emma was waiting. She had to get to her—before she disappeared again. Before it was too late.

  Quinn turned several corners, stumbled up two or three steps, then hurtled down a few more. She twisted and turned through the hallway that rose and fell, coiling through the hotel like a giant snake. In the back of Quinn’s mind this didn’t seem architecturally right, but she pushed the thought far away. There was no time to think about anything except Emma.

  At an intersection, Quinn halted briefly, catching her breath. She searched left, then right, then straight ahead, unsure which path to take. Kara’s calls had long disappeared and suddenly Quinn felt very alone.

  There had to be an emergency stairwell or an elevator somewhere. If only she could find it. She scrambled a few steps to the left, when she came to a complete and dead stop.

  Ahead, a figure stood by a door. She recognized the yellow-and-black ball cap. Quinn’s heart, already beating out of control, threatened to burst through her rib cage. She could hear blood thudding in her ears, but she willed herself to remain statue still.

  The man was bent, fumbling with a key. He was cursing violently. Quinn was not fifty feet away, but luckily he hadn’t noticed her.

  Slowly, carefully, she took a step backward, certain any quick movement would draw his attention. One foot, then another, her palms cold and clammy. She hesitated, her body tense, like a sprinter waiting for the blast of a gun.

  The key didn’t seem to be working. The man raised his head and cursed, and just as he was turning in her direction Quinn made her move. She wheeled around and, legs pumping, she bolted back the way she’d come.

  Ducking around the corner, Quinn scrambled through the intersection and plowed straight into Kara, sending both of them flying, landing flat on their backs. The clothes Kara had been holding scattered.

  “What’s wrong with you?” said Kara. “How could you take off on us like that?” But Quinn was already up, dragging Kara to her feet, scooping up their clothes and pulling her toward the upper lobby through the open space.

  “Quinn. Stop,” said Kara, digging in her heels.

  Quinn yanked harder, pulling Kara toward the stairs. She scrambled down step after step. Once they reached the bottom, they paused long enough to scan the upper lobby.

  All was quiet. There was no sign of the man with the ball cap. Quinn had been lucky. He hadn’t seen her. She bent over, her hands on her thighs, catching her breath. How could she explain her fear of him? There was no rational reason—just a deep, dark feeling.

  “You have to stop doing this,” said Kara. “You have to stop imagining people are after you.”

  “But Emma,” said Quinn between gulps of air.

  Quinn felt a cool hand on her back. She looked up and saw Persephone.

  “Are you all right? Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” said Quinn quickly, straightening her back, calming her breathing. “I need to get upstairs. I need to find somebody. Is there a way up?”

  “The elevator,” she said, pointing toward the metal cage. “Except, it’s been slower than usual today.”

  “Is there no other way, then?” said Quinn. “This is a pretty big building for such a small elevator.”

  “It’s an old building. We’re up to code, of course. There’s an emergency stairwell at the end of each corridor.”

  “Really?” said Quinn. “Because I couldn’t find one.”

  “Oh, they’re a bit tricky to find. Why do you need to go upstairs? Your room is on the first floor.”

  “Yes,” said Kara. “It is. Let’s go back to our room,” she said to Quinn. “I told Josh to meet us by the door. He’s probably waiting.”

  “Just a second,” said Quinn. She turned to Persephone. “I need to find another guest. Can you help?”

  “I can try,” said Persephone.

  Kara rolled her eyes but said nothing. Quinn left her standing at the base of the steps. At the front desk, Persephone had already taken out her guest book.

  “Date?” she said.

  “Excuse me?” said Quinn. “Don’t you mean name?”

  “No,” said Persephone. “We go by dates here. Much easier to track. When did the guest arrive?”

  Quinn sighed. “I-I don’t know. Her name is Emma. I don’t know when she would have arrived.”

  Persephone raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Well. That’s a bit more difficult, isn’t it? Emma. Emma what?”

  “Emma Martin.”

  “Martin? Isn’t that your surname?”

  “Um, yes,” said Quinn, then redirected the conversation. “You really need to get some computers. Would be a lot easier.”

  “We prefer to keep things simple,” Persephone said, flipping through the goose-fat pages, her long, lean finger scanning up and down the names she’d scrawled in fancy script and then crossed out.

  “Why are they all crossed out?”

  “To keep track of who’s come. And gone,” said Persephone. She met Quinn’s eyes head-on. “Sorry,” she added quickly. “No Emma.”

  Quinn leaned over and snuck a peek at the book. Before Persephone snapped it shut, she saw something very strange.

  Kara approached the counter. “Come on, Quinn. Let’s go back to the room. My parents are probably back. And Josh is waiting.”

  Quinn glared at Persephone a moment longer. Her face seemed so perfect. So plastic. Her eyes wide and unblinking. The woman placed her two hands on the cover of the book, then picked it up and stowed it neatly under the counter.

  Reluctantly, Quinn drew back from the desk. She followed Kara into the corridor that led to their room. Her mind had left the crazy man with the ball cap and even Emma for the moment. All she could think about was the guest book and what she’d seen.

  14

  NO ONE WAS WAITING FOR THEM BY THE DOOR.

  “I told Josh to wait right here,” sighed Kara. “No one ever listens to me.”

  “Maybe he’s inside, with your parents,” said Quinn, trying to sound hopeful even though an alarm rang inside her.

  Kara got the key from the pocket of her shorts and unlocked the door. The room was empty. There was no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Cawston. Kara’s note was still lying on the bed where she’d left it—untouched.

  They quickly crossed the threshold into Josh’s room. He wasn’t there either. Something about the room seemed different, too. Everything was neat and tidy. There was no trace of Josh or Mr. Cawston, as though they hadn’t been there. They searched, but neither Josh nor Kara’s parents had left a note.

  “Where do you think Josh went?” said Quinn, trying desperately to squelch the panic rising in her throat.

  “It’s nearly dinnertime,” said Kara. “You know him. He probably went looking for food.”

  “Probably,” said Quinn, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Either that, or back to the pool. Maybe the elevator.”

 
; They returned to their room and got changed quickly. Quinn slipped into her shorts and T-shirt. Kara hung her wet bathing suit in the bathroom. Quinn’s was dry, so she folded it and placed it on the dresser.

  “I’m going to kill him,” said Kara, stomping out into the hallway. “I can’t believe he’d just leave us like that.”

  Quinn felt sick. This was her fault. If only she hadn’t raced off to find Emma. She wanted to tell Kara what she’d seen in the book, but she didn’t want to worry her. Not just yet. “I’ll bet he’s in the restaurant,” she said, her voice thick, not far from tears.

  “Yeah, well, he’d better be enjoying his meal ’cause it’s his last.”

  When they reached the lobby, Persephone looked up from her work at the front desk and smiled.

  “I’m looking for my brother. Have you seen him?”

  Persephone tilted her head. She paused to think. “No. Not since this morning when you went to the upper lobby.”

  “What about my parents?” said Kara. “Have they tried to call? Left a message? You can get outside calls, can’t you?”

  Persephone smiled. “Of course we can. But I’m afraid I haven’t heard from them. Not yet. The garage must be busier than usual. Or maybe your car needed special parts.”

  “You’re sure Josh wasn’t hanging around the elevator?”

  “Not that I saw,” she said. “Though, I must admit, I wasn’t paying close attention. Quite a few new guests arrived today. I’ll keep an eye out for him, if you like.”

  Just as Quinn had suspected—Phony would be no help whatsoever. Quinn grabbed Kara’s arm. “Let’s check outside.”

  They crossed the foyer and swung open the enormous wooden door. The massive doorman stood blocking their exit.

  “Can I help you two ladies?” he said in his deep, velvety voice. Quinn noticed his brass name tag: Aides. His black pupils were enormous. They reminded Quinn of insect eyes.

  “Have you by any chance seen my parents? Or my brother?” asked Kara. Though she was trying to sound calm, Quinn could hear worry creeping into Kara’s voice.

  Quinn searched beyond the red canopy, beyond the driveway. Enormous hills of gravel and dust surrounded the hotel like the sandy walls of a fortress. The small dirt road that had led them to the hotel wound through the hills, disappearing into the dust. With no map, compass, or working phone, a person could easily get lost out there.