Haunting Lies

The Lotte New York Palace was sleek, modern, and understated. There were hushed tones, echoing floors, and dark bronze reflective glass everywhere. He strode to the front desk.

“Afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today?”

“Detective McDowell, Manhattan PD.” He flashed his badge. “I’m looking for someone—her name is Miranda Hastings. She’s new to the area.

“Pretty woman, petite, five foot six with long brown hair. Have you seen her?”

“I’m sorry, Detective…”

“Listen,”—his eyes flashed across his name tag—“Taylor. I know she’s here. If you give me the room number I will be on my way.”

“Is Miranda in some kind of trouble?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

He folded his arms and leaned against the counter, and a small smile played upon his lips.

“Only if you consider impersonating an officer, grand theft auto, aggravated assault, domestic violence, and public indecency ‘trouble.’ Then yeah, you might say so.”

Almost immediately, Taylor’s face went pale and his eyes widened. He tap-danced his fingers over the keyboard. “Room 120 is where she’s staying,” he said as he handed him the key card.

“Much appreciated,”

With that, he turned on his heel and headed down the long hall, smiling smugly to himself as he flicked the key card between his fingers.

***

Scurrying around the room, she packed her luggage. Someone knocked on the door, and she frowned. She heard a muffled, “Housekeeping,” and sighed heavily.

She hadn’t called for housekeeping and hoped there was nothing wrong with the room.

“No, thank you!”

A few seconds later, she heard the knock again, even louder this time. “Housekeeping.”

“I said no!”

“Housekeeping.”

She stormed over to the door and threw it open. “Ma’am, I said—”

Her heart leaped into her throat. Standing in the doorway was Ryan, who was now smirking at her with that gorgeous smug face.

“I thought that might annoy you enough to open the door.”

Fuck!

She tried to slam the door shut, but he blocked it with his foot to keep it from closing. “You son of a bitch,” she snarled. “You tricked me!”

One trick Ryan had was a knack for changing his voice. He could make her think he was a girl talking and could mimic any man’s voice.

“Only because you wouldn’t have answered the door if you’d known it was me,” he said. “So glad it worked.

“For a second there I thought I was gonna have to whip out the key card that nice receptionist up front gave me.”

She growled a curse at Taylor and pushed on the door. “Move your foot before I break it.”

“After all this time you’re still the same ole Miranda. Violent and terrified of elevators. Is that why you requested the first floor?”

“Oh, shut up!”

He shoved the door open, causing her to stumble back in surprise, and slammed it shut behind him.

“Ryan, you need to leave. Now.”

“Not until we talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it sometime.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Really? That’s how you’re gonna be after ten years? Ten years when you just left me there.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, here we go. Playing the victim.”

“How could you just leave me there, Miranda?” he asked. “You broke my heart. Left me to pick up the pieces.”

She scoffed. “I broke your heart? What about me? You broke my heart. Not all at once. No, in a more painful way. Little by little…day by day, month by month, year by year.

“I kept hoping, at least in the end, that you would change.”

“I did.”

She shook her head. “No, Ryan, you didn’t. I gave you one last chance, and you blew it. I told you to straighten up your life. But instead, you were out late gambling again!”

“I…I wasn’t gambling, Miranda. If you would have just stayed and heard me out, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“What was the point? For me to just sit there while you told me another one of your lies. No. I deserved better. We des—” She stopped, catching herself before she could reveal anything more.

His mouth dropped open in shock, and he closed his eyes briefly as if she’d slapped him.

She swallowed. Calm down, Miranda.

“I can’t…I cannot do this again with you, Ryan. So please just leave,” she said, her voice lower.

“I can’t—”

“Leave!” she shouted, glowering at him. She sighed in exasperation and shook her head.

“We haven’t resolved much, have we?” he said with a humorless laugh.

“I’d say not. Except that I’m leaving this city.”

“You’re acting like a petulant adolescent,” he seethed, his voice acidic.

She rolled her eyes and went to the mini fridge, opening a bottle of whiskey. “Oh, using big words now.” She took a long swig, and he watched her.

“Since when do you drink?”

She tossed the small bottle into the trash can. “Oh, you know, since my life has lost its meaning. I really don’t know why I didn’t try it sooner. Probably should have listened to you back then.”

“I was stupid back then, Miranda. I’m glad you didn’t. But I’ve changed now.”

“Yeah, well, so have I.”

“Come back to the precinct, please.”

“I quit for a reason, Ryan. The two of us”—she waved her finger back and forth between the two of them—“working together... it won’t work.”

“Listen, I don’t want to be stuck on desk duty for three months.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me.”

Before he could say anything, his phone buzzed once, and he peered at it. “Hey, the captain said to turn on the TV.” He turned on the set and found the local news channel.

“I am pleading for the public’s help. All we want to do is find Jayla, nothing else. I will never give up hope,” the mother said.

“I pray that someone will come forward and bring my daughter home.”

A moment later, his phone buzzed again.

“The Mayor is requesting our help,” Ryan said as he put his phone in his back pocket. “That is why the captain sent me here. He wants your help.”

Miranda stared at the television.

The mayor’s wife looked like hell. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and her blonde curls were a mess of tight, frizzy links, wondering if she would ever see her daughter alive again.

“Why me?” she asked quietly.

“Because he knows you have what it takes to get the job done, as do I,” he said. “So let me prove it to you. Let me show you that we can work together as a team.”

She glanced up at the TV again and clenched her fists at her sides.

The pain reflected in the woman’s eyes was unbearable, and Miranda didn’t want to see another mother go through the same agonizing pain she herself went through.

Miranda sighed heavily and turned to Ryan. “Fine. I’ll help you, but not because you asked. I’m doing it for the girl.”

A small smile lifted Ryan’s lips.

Miranda grabbed her leather jacket and headed for the door, Ryan closing it behind them.

As they stepped into the lobby, Taylor was behind the counter. His eyes flickered nervously to her, then over to Ryan.

“That’s strange. He normally greets me on my way out,” Miranda whispered, then she turned to Ryan. “What did you say to him?”

He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Public indecency may have come up casually in conversation for some reason or another.”

“What!”