Page 20 of (Mostly) Human Resources

“Enjoy your stay, Miss Keane.”

Her head snapped back, but the elevator doors had already clicked shut.

How on earth had he known her name?

CHAPTER 11

“There are very few reported cases of entities that have a psychological and emotional effect on humans rather than physical. If, however, you encounter a case that may indicate otherwise, please contact Entity’s DEN-PEV department.”

Entity’s Employee Handbook: HR Edition

There were two beds in her room.

Alexys remembered booking a room with only one double bed, not two, but she dismissed the confusing turn of events and accepted the upgrade as a gift in disguise. Now, she would be able to put her suitcase on the unused bed and keep her belongings off the floor.

Aside from the unexpected second bed, the rest of Alexys’s room looked exactly as she thought it might.

Dated.

The bedspreads were an antique quilted pattern of what might have once been bright reds and blues. Now, they were faded beyond repair, but they did, admittedly, look relatively clean. The air was thick with the smell of cheap air freshener, and the air conditioner hummed pitifully from under the window.

Alexys dropped her luggage on one bed and plopped down on the other, which squeaked alarmingly loud under her weight but held firm. She pulled out her laptop, switched on the TV for a bit of background noise, and tried to connect to the WiFi. The internet speed was slow as hell but functional enough for her to check her work email.

She scrolled past the usual updates, memos, and things she deemed less than pressing. Stuck between a reminder from Kristin and a lament from Natalie was what Alexys hoped was an approved Plan of Action Report confirmation from upper management that Nic had sent to them yesterday for sign-off.

She opened the email and watched the document’s download progress bar begin to crawl pitifully across her screen.

Alexys tried to call Elliot twice while she waited, but the line went straight to voicemail. She decided to send him a text rather than leave a voice message.

Hey, Elliot. I’ve just arrived at the hotel. Interesting choice of accommodation! Should we plan to start your evaluation at your earliest convenience?

Alexys would give him a few hours to respond—it was still early, and she knew he was still wrapping up his previous investigation. Alexys turned her attention back to Nic’s email. The document finally loaded, and she was once again impressed by the research team’s information gathering abilities.

Silver Giants were fascinating creatures. Nearly 12 foot tall, they were basically bear-like creatures with silver stripes down their backs. They were said to run as easily on two legs as they could on all four. There hadn’t been a sighting in Elliot’s Quadrant in a while, so Alexys was confident Elliot’s evaluation would be a breeze.

She sent Nic a quick, if not rather cold, thank you in reply to his email and copied down a few notes into her Entity-issued notebook.The report had two sections, but only one of them looked relevant to her case, so she focused on it. Anything supplemental could be looked at later. She wanted to be fully prepared and at least appear knowledgeable before she went to find Elliot, but she didn’t want to overwhelm herself.

Once that was done, Alexys pocketed her room key, tucked her laptop back into her backpack, and made her way down the hall to Elliot’s room. She knocked. Once. Twice. Three times.

He didn’t answer.

Alexys pressed an ear against the door and listened, then called his name. She checked her phone, no messages or missed calls. That tingly, ominous feeling from the previous week resurfaced.

Elliot Harman is dead.

The rational half of her brain knew Elliot was fine—he’d emailed on … what day had that been? Friday? But the less rational, highly spooked part of her brain that kept replaying the bloody mirror message in her dream, disagreed emphatically with that assessment. He also wasn’t answering her texts or calls.

Alexys pulled her phone out to send him another text and saw that her previous one hadn’t sent. It was sitting in poor-service-limbo, a familiar purgatory that most mountainous regions seemed prone to. She tried to get the other text to send and watched until the confirmation check-mark popped up. With her fears abated, at least for the moment, Alexys headed to the lobby in search of breakfast.

Bubblegum girl pointed her to a local diner down the road, as they’d stopped serving downstairs. At the diner, Alexys found herself in what felt like someone’s actual kitchen. Miss Mae had converted the downstairs of her house into a cozy little restaurant. The smell of home-cooked food and hot coffee greeted Alexys as soon as she stepped in the door. None of the tables or chairs matched, and the sounds of a TV upstairs filtered through the rickety floorboards overhead. The décor was eclectic, full of lace doilies and framed community photos.

Only in the South.

Her food was exceptional. Better even than most restaurants she’d visited back home. It reminded her of visiting her Mamaw’s kitchen at Sunday lunch. She half expected to see an aunt or uncle walk past as she wolfed down her entire plate.

“Where did you say you’re from?” Mae asked as she refilled Alexys’s sweet tea for the fourth time.

“Georgia.” Alexys thanked her for the refill and added, “I work in South Carolina, but I was raised in Georgia.”