He slipped into room 309 quietly. He finally found the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the top of the television, half-hidden by an open box of PopTarts. Grinning, he snagged two packs and put them into his shirt pocket, then hung the tag on the hall side of the door.
Quickly and efficiently he went around the room. He opened the lock on the smaller of the two suitcases, found the “secret” compartment. He let out an appreciative whistle at the nearly $10,000. he found hidden within, and shook his head over the diamond engagement ring in the other compartment. So tacky, stealing someones engagement ring. You had to draw a line in the sand somewhere, he thought, and she had most definitely crossed it. He left the money where he found it, pocketed the ring in his trousers.
Hefting the larger suitcase on the bed, he found her clothing, all very nice designer knockoff’s, complete ensembles. Shoes, faux jewels, accessories. Enough to let him know she’d planned to stay here about a week. In yet another compartment, carefully wrapped was an assortment of gold chains, a few watches, a credit card which read “James Conroy”, two ladies watches, and an assortment of casino chips.
He continued around the room, still not finding what he was seeking. Her purse had contained little beyond her room key, a lipstick and $3.00 in change. Finally, scattered in the pages of the Bible provided by the hotel, he found what he was looking for.
As he tipped it upside down and began fanning the pages, out fell a passport, and two drivers’ licenses. Same picture. Two different names. Picking up the passport, he compared that to the other two. Honey Maxwell. He knew the Maxwell name, but doubted she was related. She did have a certain air about her that bespoke breeding, but still. Someone related to the billionaire Maxwell family hardly had to casino-hop to survive, let alone use those casino’s as a cover for a nice little bit of larceny.
Grabbing up the suitcases, he proceeded back to his room.
Opening the door, he tossed the suitcases into the closet, paying no attention to the struggling bound and gagged woman on the bed.
“One more errand, Honey, and then I’ll be back. You have some ‘splainin’ to do.” he threw over his shoulder in his best “Ricky Ricardo” voice. He went out to the hallway, fingering the diamond as he waited for the elevator doors to open. When he arrived in the lobby, he strode purposefully towards the front desk.
First he handed the diamond ring to the clerk.
“Found this in the corner by the window on the third floor,” he improvised, with a casual smile.
“Figured that someone was missing it real bad..either “he” because he’d not yet proposed, or “she” because she’d said yes and then lost the ring!”
The desk clerk took the ring, and thanked him. Told him that, in fact, the unlucky, yet hopeful, groom had lost the ring before the proposal, and had actually thought about reporting it stolen, despite him knowing it had been in his pocket.’
“You’ve just made a young man very happy!” said the clerk with a smile as he put down the phone. Indeed, the whoop of joy had come through the ear piece loud and clear.
He smiled, then went on to his next order of business. Handing over her room card, he told them that “Honey” and he had gotten cozy with each other, and she was now staying with him. Currently, she was tied up in his room with her stuff, and he was helping her out by returning her room key.
The desk clerk, spotting the exuberant young groom coming from the elevator, quickly took the keycard, and cancelled the room for Honey Maxwell. Informing him that her credit card would not be billed for the rest of her stay, he thanked him once more for turning in the ring.
He walked across the lobby, went outside to enjoy the fresh air. Seeing the coffee shop across the street, he went over and bought two coffee’s. Heading back to the hotel, he chucked to himself. Hell of a day’s work, and it wasn’t even lunch time yet! He tapped the breast pocket where the Poptarts crinkled in their silvery wraps. A treat…and then…a treat.
God he loved his work!