Back Spin (1997) Read Online Free Page B

price, in smaller black print, the sign read, MIRRORED CEILINGS AND THEME R0OMs SLIGHTLY EXTRA.
    Theme rooms. Myron didn't even want to know. The last line, back in the green big print: ASK ABOUT OUR FREQUENT
    VISITORS CLUB. Jesus.
    Myron wondered if it was worth a shot and decided, why not? It probably wouldn't lead to anything, but if Chad was hiding out or even if he'd been kidnapped a motel was as good a place as any to disappear.
    He parked in the lot. The Court Manor was a textbook two level dump. The outer stairs and walkway terraces were made of rotting wood. The cement walls had that unfinished, swirling look that could cut your hand if you leaned against it wrong. Small chunks of concrete lay on the ground. An unplugged Pepsi machine guarded the door like one of the Queen's guards. Myron passed it and entered.
    He'd expected to find the standard motel lobby interior that is, an unshaven Neanderthal in a sleeveless, too-short undershirt chewing on a toothpick while sitting behind bullet-proof glass burping up a beer. Or something like that. But that was not the case. The Court Manor Inn had a high wooden desk with a bronze sign reading CONCIERGE on top of it. Myron tried not to snicker. Behind the desk, a well-groomed, baby-faced man in his late twenties stood at attention. He wore a pressed shirt, starched collar, dark tie tied in a perfect Windsor knot. He smiled at Myron.
    "Good aftemoon, sir!" he exclaimed. He looked and sounded like a John Tesh substitute on Entertainment Weekly. "Welcome to the Court Manor Inn!"
    "Yeah," Myron said. "Hi."
    "May I be of some service to you today, sir?"
    "I hope so."
    ' 'Great! My name is Stuart Lipwitz. I'm the new manager of the Court Manor Inn." He looked at Myron expectantly.
    Myron said, "Congrats."
    "Well, thank you, sir, that's very kind. If there are any problems if anything at the Court Manor does not meet '
    your expectations please let me know immediately. I
    will handle it personally." Big smile, puifed-out chest.
    "At the Court Manor, we guarantee your satisfaction."
    Myron just looked at him for a minute, waiting for the ;
    full-wattage smile to dim a bit. It didn't. Myron took out the photograph of Chad Coldren.
    "Have you seen this young man?"
    Stuart Lipwitz did not even look down. Still smiling, he said, "I'm sorry, sir. But are you with the police?" _
    "No."
    "Then I'm afraid I can't help you. I'm very sorry."
    "Pardon me?"
    "l'm sorry, sir, but here at the Court Manor Inn we pride ourselves on our discretion."
    "He's not in any trouble," Myron said. "I'm not a private eye trying to catch a cheating husband or anything like that."
    The smile did not falter or sway. "I'm sorry, sir, but this is the Court Manor Inn. Our clientele use our services for a variety of activities and often crave anonymity. We at the Court Manor Inn must respect that."
    Myron studied the man's face, searching for some signal that this was a put-on. Nothing. His whole persona glowed like a performer in an Up with People halftime show. Myron leaned over the desk and checked out the shoes. Polished like twin mirrors. The hair was slicked back. The sparkle in the eye looked real.
    It took Myron some time, but he finally saw where this was leading. He took out his wallet and plucked a twenty from the billfold. He slid it across the counter. Stuart Lipwitz looked at it but made no move.
    "What's this for, sir'?"
    "It's a present," Myron said.
    Stuart Lipwitz did not touch it.
    "It's for one piece of information," Myron continued.
    He plucked out another and held it in the air. "I have another, if you'd like."
    "Sir, we have a credo here at the Court Manor Inn:
    The guest must come first."
    "Isn't that a prostitute's credo?"
    "Pardon me, sir?"
    "Never mind," Myron said.
    "I am the new manager of the Court Manor Inn, sir."
    "So I've heard."
    "I also own ten percent."
    "Your mom must be the envy of her mah-jongg group." .
    Still the smile. "In other words, sir, I am in it for the long term.