Chapter 44 The Night Search
Elena stood by the bedroom door, her ear pressed to the wood. She could hear the muffled sound of the city outside and the faint tap of Julian’s fingers against the stone railing of the balcony.
He was still out there, no doubt lost in whatever thoughts the name "Samson" had stirred up. She didn't have much time.
She moved quickly, grabbing a dark hoodie from her bag to cover her white top.
She didn't take her duffel, that would look too suspicious, but she made sure she had her wallet and the hotel key card. She stepped into her sneakers, moved to the door, and turned the handle with agonizing slowness.
It clicked open and she slipped out into the hallway and didn't look back.
The elevator ride down felt like it took a lifetime. When the doors opened into the marble-floored lobby, the night porter looked up from behind the mahogany desk. He was a middle-aged man with a sharp eye for the guests.
"Heading out again, Mrs. Thorne?" he asked.
Elena forced a smile, though her heart was pounding against her ribs. "I just... I realized I left my favorite scarf at the park earlier. I wanted to see if I could find it before the street sweepers come through."
The porter looked at the clock. It was nearly eleven. "It’s a bit late for a walk alone, ma'am. Shall I call a car for you?"
"No, I’ll be fine. It’s a nice night," she said, already moving toward the revolving doors. "I won't be long."
She pushed through the glass doors and felt the humid Savannah air hit her face.
She didn't head for the park. Instead, she walked a block away until she was out of sight of the hotel entrance and hailed a passing yellow cab.
"Where to?" the driver asked, a thick man with a thick southern accent.
"I’m looking for a gym," Elena said, leaning forward. "A place where the locals go. Not the touristy hotel gyms. Somewhere a fit woman into yoga might go on a Saturday morning."
The driver scratched his chin. "Well, most folks around here go to 'Savannah Soul' over on Liberty Street. It’s got a big yoga studio."
"Take me there," Elena said.
The gym was still open when they pulled up, though the lights were dimmed.
Elena paid the driver and walked inside. A late night yoga class had clearly just ended, as women in leggings were streaming out of a side room, carrying rolled-up mats.
Elena scanned the faces, looking for the blonde hair and the heartbroken eyes of the woman from the park. She wasn't there.
Elena stepped up to a group of three women who were chatting near the water cooler. "Excuse me," she said, trying to sound casual. "I'm looking for a friend. Her name is Chloe. I think she comes here? Blonde, very fit, early thirties?"
The women looked at each other. "Chloe?" one of them said. "Doesn't ring a bell. You have a last name?"
"I... I don't," Elena said, her mind racing. "I’m an old friend from Chicago. I just moved back and I’m trying to track her down."
"Chicago?" another woman asked, raising an eyebrow. "This is a small town, honey. People don't usually move here from the big city unless they're retiring."
"I might have the name wrong," Elena said, feeling the sweat start to prickle on her forehead. "She was at Forsyth Park earlier today."
The women shared a look. "Wait," the first woman said. "Are you talking about Chloe Miller? The one who runs the flower shop down on the South Side?"
Elena’s heart jumped. Miller? "Yes! That’s her. Chloe Miller. Is she a regular here?"
"She used to be," the woman said, her voice softening. "But she hasn't been around much lately. She’s had a rough couple of years. Lost her fiancé a long time ago and never really got over it. But wait, you said you were friends from the city?"
"Yes," Elena lied smoothly. "We worked together a few years back."
The woman frowned. "That’s strange. Chloe’s never lived in the city. She’s lived in Savannah her whole life. Born and raised. She barely even leaves the county."
Elena felt a chill go down her spine. If Chloe had never lived in Chicago, then there was no way they were "old friends." Her lie was falling apart, but she didn't care. She had a lead.
"Which flower shop?" Elena asked.
"The Moss & Rose on Abercorn Street. But it’s closed now, obviously. You’d have to go in the morning."
"Thank you," Elena said, already turning to leave. "Thank you so much."
Quickly, she left the place. She didn't take a cab back. She needed to think, and she needed an excuse for why she had been gone for nearly forty-five minutes.
She started to jog fast and by the time she reached the hotel, she was drenched in sweat and her face was flushed.
She walked into the lobby, panting, and headed straight for the elevator. But as the doors opened, her heart stopped.
Julian was standing in the lobby, leaning against the far wall. He was right there, his eyes fixed on the elevator. When he saw her, his expression was impossible to read.
"Elena," he said. He walked toward her, his eyes scanning her sweaty clothes and her red face. "The porter said you went for a walk to find a scarf."
Elena grabbed a bottle of water from the complimentary stand near the elevator and downed half of it in one go.
She leaned against the wall, chest heaving. "I... I decided to go for a run instead. I couldn't sleep. My head was spinning after the movie and the park, I just needed to exhaust myself so I could actually sleep."
Julian looked at her for a long, quiet minute. He reached out and touched her arm. His skin felt hot. "At eleven at night? In a city you don't know?"
"I stayed on the main streets," she gasped, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I just needed the movement, Julian. You know how I get when I’m stressed. I just had to run until I couldn't think anymore."
Julian’s grip on her arm tightened just a fraction. "You could have asked me to go with you. I don't like you out here alone."
"I needed to be alone," she said, looking him in the eye. "I’m sorry I didn't tell you. I thought you were still on the balcony."
Julian’s face softened, but only a little. "The porter told me you’d been gone for a while. I was about to come looking for you."
"I'm fine," she said, pulling her arm away. "I’m just tired now. Really tired."
They got into the elevator together and Elena could feel him watching her, questioning her, but she didn't say another word. She stood there, dripping sweat, her mind already focused on the next morning.
“The Moss & Rose. Abercorn Street.”
She was going to find Chloe Miller. She was going to find out who Samson was, and what had happened ten years ago.