ch3 pg 16-17

Her purse lay one the couch where she had left it. The first thing I noticed was a Smith and Wesson 6906 in one of the side pockets. It was a compact nine millimeter automatic that held thirteen rounds in the magazine. The pistol had no hammer and was designed to fire double action only. It was a cop gun.
I took it out and drew the slide back. There was one round already in the chamber. Samantha was ready to rock and roll. I extracted the magazine and emptied it of bullets. I put the magazine back in her Smith, and put the Smith back in her purse.
Samantha's pistol was loaded with high velocity hollow point round just recently made available to the public. Not exactly your off the shelf ammunition, they were designed to hit hard and not take prisoners. I locked the shells in my desk drawer.
Going through her wallet told me that she worked at a large upscale department store at Ala Moana, the local mall. Her drivers license told me that she was in fact thirty years old and that she was a Virgo. She had taken her I.D. picture when her hair was long and she looked nothing like the woman that was sleeping next door.
Putting her make up kit aside, I grabbed her address book and went though it without finding anything of interest. The ring of keys that lay on the bottom of her purse went into my pocket. I didn't find any bank keys.
I laced on a pair of hiking boots and went out down the hall to see Mark. From his desk in the foyer, he could see the comings and goings of all the guests on the floor.
"Mark, have someone come up and watch over my guest. Give her whatever she wants. Just don't let her out of the place."
"Guest, sir?" He looked bewildered.
"Her name is Samantha Kim. Make sure she gets taken care of." Mark must have been busy when Samantha came pounding on my door.
"Uh, she come in last night? I didn't see her name on the log sheet."
"Don't worry about it," I assured him. The people I worked for took good care of me, sometimes too good. It was nice to know I could still surprise them.
He gave me a weak smile. "I'll get Mary from customer service to come up."
I grabbed the morning paper from him and walked past the desk to the service elevators. It was faster and less crowded than the guest version.
"I'll be back around lunch," I said as the door closed behind me. The bright fluorescent lights that reflected off the waxed linoleum floor of the service landing reminded me of a hospital corridor. It was empty and sterile. I pushed the down button and waited for the car.