Chapter 1 - The Switch
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The footsteps echoed against the concrete, growing louder with every heartbeat. Leah didn’t think. She just moved.
She grabbed the heavy, limp shoulders of the man in the cart. He was solid muscle, dressed in a custom wool suit that felt ridiculous in her trembling, dish-water-stained hands. Bracing her busted shoe against the floor, she hauled him backward.
He spilled over the metal rim and crashed into her canvas laundry bin.
Leah instantly buried him under a mountain of wine-stained tablecloths just as the corridor lights flickered. She grabbed her cart’s handle and shoved it forward, her breath catching in her throat.
"Hey!" a voice barked from the shadows.
Leah froze. She forced her shoulders to drop, adopting the exhausted, invisible posture she used when dealing with rude customers upstairs. She turned around.
The man who had held the syringe stepped out from the freight elevator alcove. His hand was inside his jacket, gripping something heavy. His eyes darted from Leah to the empty cart behind him. Panic twisted his sharp features.
"Where the hell is he?" the man demanded, pulling a suppressed pistol into the dim light. "Who else was down here?"
"Nobody," Leah said, her voice flat, masking the terror that threatened to choke her. "Just me. I’m clearing the ballroom linens."
"Don't lie to me, you stupid waitress. A man was in this cart."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Leah snapped, channeling her very real exhaustion. "I just want to clock out. The banquet captain is screaming for these tablecloths. Check my trash if you want, but there’s broken glass in there and I'm not bleeding for minimum wage."
The man stared at her, sneering in disgust. To him, she was nothing. Just a piece of the hotel's background machinery.
"He rolled off," the man yelled to his partner, who was running down the hall. "Check the stairwell! Move!"
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The second they turned their backs, Leah shoved the heavy cart through the swinging doors, bypassing the laundry room and heading straight for the abandoned boiler room. She locked the iron door behind her, sliding to the floor in the dark.
From inside the cart, a low, dangerous groan echoed.
