—Trixie Belden “This is really, really nice,” Cooper mutters as I sneak him, Cissy, and Nat through the side door of the hotel and immediately bypass the elevator to find the stairs. In the stairwell, the three of us immediately run smack into a guy in a tux carrying a large silver tray of dirty dishes. “May I help you?” he says in a suspicious voice. “You appear to be … lost.” Two seconds and we’ve been caught. But there is no need to despair. I’m ready for you, room service FBI agent. Outside the hotel only moments ago, there was no choice but to look to Nat for a little help. Naturally, she was the cleanest one of our group because that cream colored T-shirt of hers was under the hoodie she gave Cissy last night and it was still in good shape. I also lifted Deva’s Chanel sunglasses that she left on the table in the room and made Nat put them on. We practiced this act on the walk inside—despite Nat’s multitude of protests. I can’t help but stare for a moment.
