Lillyanne Plume's Arc

Chapter 20 of 22

The scream pulled Lillyanne deeper into the inn. Bodies pressed past her, all shoving toward the same sound. Scott kept his hand on her elbow, but the crowd was tight and hot, and she lost sight of the door behind them. Gold sconces flickered on beige walls. Purple carpet ran up a narrow stair. She didn't know where the scream came from until the crowd broke into the bar room and she saw. Marjorie hung from the ceiling fan. The old postwoman's braid swung slow. Her satchel was gone. Her boots turned in a lazy circle. Lillyanne felt the coffee she hadn't drunk climb up her throat. They had hidden that body. They had hidden it behind a closet wall in Room 103. Someone had gone in and pulled her out and strung her up here for every team to see. The teams were already working. A man in a green vest called out the cuts on Marjorie's neck. A woman with a notepad copied them down. Another team argued over the knot. No one looked at Marjorie's face. No one looked at Lillyanne either, and that was worse. She scanned the room. Every set of eyes she caught slid off her like grease. Which one had done it. Which one was waiting. She grabbed Scott's sleeve and pulled him back through the crowd. A short hallway ran off the bar and stopped at a blank wall. She dragged him into it and put her back to the plaster. "They moved her," she whispered. "They know it was our room. They want me to see." "Keep your voice down." "They could've just killed us in the street. They didn't. They want to challenge me. There is more than a game to them. It’s like a test." Her hands were shaking. She pressed them flat to the wall. "I can't tell who. Everyone out there is cold, Scott. Every one of them." Scott's head snapped up. "Quiet." She stopped. She heard it too. A scrape behind the plaster. Small. Close. Scott pressed his palm flat against the dead-end wall and pushed. A panel gave. It swung inward on a hinge she couldn't see, and warm lamplight spilled out. A girl sat on the floor of the hidden nook. Round face, green glasses pushed up her nose, brown hair coming loose from its knot. She had a notebook open on her knees and a pencil in her teeth. She looked up at them with surprise. The girl took the pencil out and smiled a small, careful smile. "Hi.” She held her notebook to her chest. “You’re the ones who found her, right?” “How’d you know that?” Scott snapped. She had this look in her eyes as she looked down shyly. Like the computer geek at her poker table. She wasn’t here to win. She was here to study the game. “You know,” Lilly smiled, “I think we might be able to help each other.”