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“I’ve worked other hotels and it saves a lot of friction and delay.” She leaned her elbows on the countertop, adding, with a slight roll of her eyes, “Checkout time can be pretty horrendous, you see. And the last thing a newly arrived guest wants is to be kept waiting to register while our counter staff are tied up explaining items on a customer’s bill.”
    “Which he can’t remember because he ordered them four days ago and he was drunk at the time?” Jesse suggested and she nodded.
    “Exactly. Have you worked in hotels yourself, Mr. Parker?” She doubted it. He definitely had an outdoors look about him. But she was enjoying talking to him and wanted to keep the conversation going.
    “It’s Jesse,” he told her, and that easy grin lit up his features again. She was definitely getting interested here, she realized. “Haven’t worked in any,” he continued. “I’ve checked out of one or two and you draw a pretty accurate picture.”
    He noted her quick, professional glance around the foyer to make sure she wasn’t keeping other customers waiting while she chatted to him. He liked her for that. Matter of fact, he liked her for a lot more than that and he felt a sudden twinge of regret that he had come down here to check out. It would have been pleasant to have made the acquaintance of the delightful Miss Bowden (he could read her name tag) earlier in the week. Lee’s face came to mind again and he pushed it away. No harm just thinking, he told her mentally. She frowned at him and he knew she didn’t agree.
    He realized he’d been standing there silently for slightly longer than might seem normal. The girl was looking at him curiously, not sure if the conversation was over.
    He didn’t want it to be. “So, is everybody moving out tomorrow? Surely you must have some guests who want to stay longer than a week?”
    “Some. Not many. A week is pretty well the standard ski vacationin these parts.” She tapped a few keys on the computer and studied the screen.
    “Let’s see… There’s a group from Vermont who got a special deal to stay on till Wednesday; then there are the people who took the two-week package.” She looked up quickly in explanation, “Not too many of them this late in the season.”
    She punched another key and the display changed. “That’s about it: maybe fifteen people—a tour group from France, a few singles, oh, and the Senator’s Ski Buddies, of course.”
    Jesse frowned in mild disbelief. “The Senator’s Ski Buddies?”
    She laughed. “We cater to a lot of groups and conferences here. They often give themselves names. The Skiing Medics was one. The Ski Till You Die Conference was another.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Turned out they were a bunch of morticians.”
    “So who are these senators who like to ski?” Jesse asked.
    “Just one senator. Senator Carling, from Washington State. He comes every year, brings a group of businessmen and company presidents—very high-level stuff.” She glanced over his shoulder to the gift shop across the lobby, lowering her voice.
    “There’s one of them now—Mr. Rockley.”
    Jesse swiveled to look at the man, browsing among the greeting card stands in the gift shop. Sensing their attention, he looked up and smiled politely. It seemed he was accustomed to drawing curious glances from strangers.
    “Is he important?” he asked.
    “He’s rich,” she replied. “Mega-rich. So I guess that makes him important. He’s Calvin Rockley, president of Rockair Aviation—they make planes.”
    He glanced again at the tall man. “Yeah,” he replied, “I’ve heard of them.”
    “So Mr. Parker, you wanted to ask about checking out tomorrow?” she prompted and he nodded as he remembered his original reasons for coming to the lobby.
    “Oh, yeah. I thought maybe I’d settle my account now and avoid the rush in the morning.”
    “Good idea,” she said, her eyes down as she punched the keysagain and checked the screen.