Truth

overtaking her face.
    Gently easing her onto the pillows Harry moved to the foot of the bed. With his own devilish snicker, he allowed his lips to brush the skin of her ankle, calf, knee, thigh, hips, and stomach. By the time he reached her breasts, Claire’s expression morphed into a pleasure clouded gaze, and her back arched as he teasingly suckled each nipple.
    Weaving her fingers through his unruly hair, she asked the question burning in her mind, “How many of those packets do you have?”
    Harry lifted his eyes to hers. “This is my last one.” She exhaled. “I suppose we’d better make it count.”
    The thought alone electrified her skin, taking her beyond words. She gasped as her head foolishly bobbed in response.
    She heard him say, “I know a few other ways to utilize our resources,” as his kisses moved back toward her stomach and south.
    Acquiescing to his suggestion, Claire fell against the soft pillows and allowed her body to enjoy the excursion.
     
    ******
     
    Phillip Roach reviewed the video: 23:42:34 Mr. Rawlings leaves Claire’s suite. Phillip notes she appears unharmed, perhaps slightly stunned, as she closes the door. Phil rubbed his temples and ridiculed himself for sending the note. Thankfully, since he hadn’t heard from Mr. Rawlings, he assumed Claire managed to hide its existence from his employer. There was something in Mr. Rawlings’ voice as he waited in that car, something which alarmed Phil. Now, shaking his head at the stilled image of Ms. Nichols closing the door while simultaneously looking into her closed hand, Phil acknowledged Claire’s talent. This petite woman could influence Mr. Rawlings, in ways few others could.
    The video restarted, 03:17:25, Ms. Nichols had a crowd at her door. Listening to the dialogue prior to the door opening, Phil determined Harrison Baldwin to be the one to gather the group. Baldwin looked and sounded tense while he banged on her door. As Claire appeared, she looked recently awakened, having slept in her clothes. Though her face was barely visible through the crowd and Baldwin’s embrace, she looked uncharacteristically disheveled.
    The others went away while Baldwin entered the suite. Phil rewound the feed and listened again. Though difficult to hear everything, it sounded as though they said something about charges . Claire specifically said no charges to the police woman.
    The camera didn’t activate again until 11:13:48, when Mr. Baldwin opened the door to allow room service to enter with a cart, the exchange polite and short. Baldwin wore the same clothes from the night before.
    13:37:16, Mr. Baldwin pushed the cart into the hall and left the suite. 14:16:32, Ms. Nichols exits her suite wearing a beach cover-up, hat, sunglasses, and flip-flops and carrying a beach bag.
    Phil decided to get a closer look at Claire’s suite. He stopped on his way to the pool. When he reached her door, he found it ajar with a housekeeping cart parked before her entrance. Casually Phillip Roach stepped around the cart and waved to the housekeeper, in the bedroom changing the sheets. Noticing the blanket and sheet upon the couch, Phil grinned and clicked a picture. Although, it was none of his business, he suspected Mr. Rawlings would be as happy about this discovery as he.
    Phil clicked a picture of the coffee table with an empty bottle of wine and three glasses. Next, he nodded politely to the housekeeper, left the suite, and walked toward the pool.
    Easing into a lounge chair shadowed by a large umbrella, Phil’s eyes settled upon his new obsession. Despite her eventful night with multitudes of visitors, Claire looked rested and relaxed, casually lounging under a deep burgundy umbrella, her bare legs stretched out before her, wearing a black bikini. On the table to her left, Phil saw her iPhone, a plate with part of a sandwich, and a tall glass with amber liquid. The lemon upon the rim and the small bowl of various colored sweetener packets indicated the glass contained iced tea. Her sunglasses were on top of her head as she read from the iPad.
    He leaned back, snapped a photo and began his email to Mr. Rawlings.
     
    ******
     
    Claire adjusted her eyes to her iPad. As long as she kept it out of the sunshine and her sunglasses off, she could read the screen. Sighing, she reread Meredith’s blog for the third time. The content wouldn’t change. She wasn’t seeking new information -- only assessing. The procedure felt strangely familiar,