Both Ways

by Edward Goble

  Madison finally broke free to take a breath and realized what he was doing. He stood quickly, tucking his grey polo shirt into his jeans and picking up his cap from the floor.

  “I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m sorry,” he said and walked quickly to the door without saying another word. Before she could speak, he was gone.

  Madison ran down the hall to the elevator and walked as calmly as he could through the lobby, again avoiding eye contact. When he cleared the doors, he ran to the Range Rover and sped from the parking lot. Steve Franz was just quick enough to snap three frames with his Nikon D50 as Madison ran out from under the lights of the covered lobby entrance.

  Judy lay on the bed for a long time after her door shut. She alternately stared at the ceiling and closed her eyes for long moments, her motor, which had been running hot and heavy, took a while to cool down and allow her mind time to ponder what had just happened. Men did not get up and run from her bed. Not that there had been many, but those that had been invited there stayed there. She finally got up long enough to turn off the lights and return to bed.

  Franz followed the black SUV out of the Marriott and around the corner to the Community Chapel parking lot where Madison turned in and Steve pulled past - then turned a U and returned on the other side of the street with his lights off. The Pastor parked in a rear lot and had just entered a rear door to the building as Steve pulled back into view in the stealth Taurus. The lights to a second floor office came on, as did a light behind a smaller window that Steve assumed was a bathroom. Franz was intrigued and curious about the Pastor’s late night adventure, so he rooted around in the glove box for a snack and sat back to wait - his camera in one hand and a single Ding Dong, from a pack that originally held two, in the other.

  The Pastor emerged ten minutes later carrying a white grocery bag and wearing a sweat suit and jogging shoes. Steve clicked three more frames on the D50 and watched as Madison pulled the Rover out of the lot, slower this time, and headed back toward the Marriott and the freeway. He took the on-ramp headed east and then the first exit, turned into the McDonalds located just off the ramp and parked. Enright went into the store with what appeared to be the same grocery bag as he brought out of the church offices and came back out a few minutes later sipping a soft drink, but the bag was gone. This time Franz didn’t follow the SUV but waited about five minutes and walked across the street into the McDonalds. On a hunch, he went straight to the men’s room and, finding it empty, opened the waste container and rooted around. There, shoved under a dozen yards of paper towels, was a white plastic grocery bag. Retrieving the bag, he left McDonalds through the side door, crossed the street again and hopped into the driver’s seat of the Taurus before looking into the bag. What he found left him sad and disappointed.

  Chapter 58

  Steve Franz left a voice-mail for his supervisor late Sunday night that said he was working an angle on the Community Chapel series. He didn’t know if it would lead anywhere, but he needed some time to follow it. Steve was still on the boss’s good side, due to the buzz around the original series, so he was cut some slack. The boss liked reading letters to the editor that said things like: “It’s good to see the Chronicle has a heart.” “Morality looks good in the Chron.” and “Nice to see you covering something positive for a change.” “Printing a little good news might sell a few papers. Who’da thunk it,” he had told Steve.

  Franz returned to the Marriott and got a room for the night, took a four-hour nap and was back up and walking through the lobby at 5:15 am. He waved to the desk clerk and said “Morning,” as he walked past. He brought two coffees back into the quiet lobby from the Java Hut next door, one for himself and one for the young man working the desk.

  He handed a hot cup across the raised registration counter, “Brought you a little wake-up juice,” he said.

  The young man, Tony, smiled and took it from the guest. “Thanks, I can never break away to buy one of these till my overlap comes in.” He held the paper cup with both hands. “Doesn’t matter what the weather is like around here, there’s nothing like hot coffee in the morning to get the wheels turning.”

  “I know what you mean,” Steve said, leaning casually on the desk.

  “Here on business?” Tony asked.

  “Me? Well, kind of. I’m a reporter for the Chron. and sometimes I get a room at a hotel just to star-search, you know, see if anything interesting happens.”

  “Cool. Trolling for stories.”

  “That’s exactly it,” Franz said, smiling. Turned out Tony was a sophomore at Cal Berkley and was considering a journalism major. He took the opportunity to pick Steve’s brain about breaking into the newspaper game. He’d read some of Steve’s work, not that he was famous, but people that were interested in such things noticed bylines.

  “So, are there any interesting stories in the Marriott this morning?” Steve finally said.

  “I don’t think so. No emergencies, no cranky guests - actually, no one has really come in or out since midnight. You might have to go over to Oakland or the City to find the good stuff.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I probably would.”

  “Mind if I just sit around for a while? Might even bring you another Joe.”

  “Be my guest. I’m leaving at 6:30 a.m., but checkout’s not till noon, so you’re welcome to stay all morning if you like.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Tony,” Steve passed across one of his cards. “If you do switch to journalism, feel free to shoot me an email or something.” Steve turned and located a well-placed and comfortable spot from which to watch the coming and going of hotel guests. “If no one has checked out all night, then I’m the first boat in the water - Perfecto,” he whispered into a sip of coffee. At 6:02 a.m., the first guests began to make their way to the counter for check-out. By 6:15 a.m., there were business people standing near the doors with overnight bags, waiting for the airport shuttle; men in suits coming in to greet guests and leading them to waiting cars; couples with rolling suitcases checking out, others lining up at the lobby diner for the breakfast buffett. Typical fare, nothing out of the ordinary so far. At one point, Tony was pretty slammed with exiting guests and glanced over to Franz, raising his Java cup in a gesture of thanks. Steve nodded. He hadn’t seen anyone come or go that looked like they might belong to the lipstick he found on the collar of the shirt in the grocery bag, no singles at least.

  At 6:22 a.m., three ladies got off the elevator, chatting and walking to the desk. One of them stopped at the back of the small line, and the others kept walking toward the door. The woman who got in line was pulling a travel case, while the other two had only purses. Steve deduced that they were not together but had only shared an elevator.

  After doing business with Tony, the solo woman turned and walked toward the lobby doors, and, as she passed Franz, she turned and smiled. “She is used to being watched - and she likes it,” he thought to himself, nodding to her in approval and greeting. She was blond, maybe thirty, fair skinned with a shapely, Jane Mansfield kind of look. Steve couldn’t help but notice and be drawn to the smile though, which was a perfect ruby-red over bright white teeth. “Good morning beautiful,” he whispered as she walked through the revolving side of the lobby doors and into the parking lot. She carried herself like a business traveler, maybe a flight attendant. She wore a snug business skirt and silk, or rayon, print blouse. He stood and watched as she put her bag into the trunk of a sedan and pulled out of the lot. He returned to the registration area and got Tony’s attention just as relief had stepped up to the desk to help work the line.

  “Favor?” Steve simply asked.

  “Shoot.”

  “Blond looker that just checked out...”

  Tony turned his face to the computer screen, his fingers blindly tapping the keyboard. He glanced around, knowing this was a breach of policy, but loved being part of the action.

  “Judy Turnbull, Galveston, TX. Stayed two nights. Wake up call
at 7:00 a.m. yesterday and 5:00 a.m. today. Paid by credit card.... Mmm. That’s about it.”

  “Thanks. Hey, Tony?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Switch to journalism. I see the fire in your eyes.” Franz smiled and turned to leave. Tony stood up a little straighter and thought he may have just received his calling.

  Chapter 59

  Jill dropped Billy off at school Wednesday morning at 8:10 a.m. then took the Xterra to the Nissan dealer where Madison had made her an appointment after Dave told them the car sounded like it might need brakes. The dealer gave her a loaner, a little Sentra, and said they would call her cell phone when they had an estimate ready. Following the directions emailed to her by Dawn Neilson, she made it out to Madras by about 9:50 a.m., just in time for tea.

  “This is so amazing,” Jill said as Dawn gave her the grand tour. “I can’t believe how nice this looks. You have absolutely got an eye for design and color.”

  “I don’t know,” Dawn said. She did think it looked nice, but this was the first place she had ever decorated, so she really didn’t know if it was good or not, just that she liked it.

  “Really, hon, you’ve got to help me with the baby nursery.”

  “Oh, I would love that. Are we decorating for a boy or a girl?” Dawn smiled.

  “I haven’t told anyone, not even Madison, but...” Jill smiled and scrunched up her nose, “It’s a girl!” Both ladies screamed with joy and held hands, jumping up and down in Dawn’s kitchen.

  “Oooh. Not too much of that, I guess,” Jill said, and stopped, holding her stomach and sticking out her tongue, steadying herself with one hand on the counter top. “No more jumping or dancing till March.”

  “A girl, wow. Have you thought of any names?”

  “Just one. But I don’t know, I have to pass it through Madison first, but I’m thinking about Dawna Jane. Jane is my mothers middle name; Her first name is Eerlene, so that’s out, but I always thought, if I had a little girl, I wanted to name her after momma. She is such a wonderful person, you’d love her. And, I thought about Dawna, after you. D-a-w-n-a, Dawna.”

  “Me?”

  “You just remind me so much of God’s love. God already made you pretty, now He’s making you beautiful - from the inside out. It’s like a brand new life, right?

  “That’s the truth.”

  “New life has dawned in your heart.”

  “That is exactly how it feels.”

  “I want that for my daughter. That no matter what life brings, she will discover and experience the love of God that makes her beautiful in His eyes. Dawna.”

  “You are too much,” Dawn said, shaking her head. “You always surprise me with this amazing wisdom. If I ever have children I would like them to be just like you.”

  “Jill-a... mmm, that won’t work. In the south that would sound too much like Jell-o, which we pronounce Jell-ah. You can’t do that to a kid, you’ll have to pick someone else.” The ladies shared a laugh as Dawn poured tea into two crisp white IKEA cups.

  Chapter 60

  Tuesday morning, Franz was on Madison’s bumper right out of the sub-division at 5:15 am. He couldn’t believe how early this guy got going, but the early hour made following that much easier and Franz, a semi-pro at tailing people, was as good as invisible, lagging well behind the Rover wherever it went. First stop Tuesday was an apartment complex in Madras not far from the Starbucks where he had first met the Pastor. Enright just sat in his car for about forty-five minutes and then left again. Steve didn’t notice anything strange and hadn’t seen anyone else come or go during that time. From there, he followed Madison to the church office where he spent the rest of the day. Wednesday morning Madison went straight to the church offices and then left about 10:30 a.m., heading east toward Madras. He drove straight to the same apartment complex as before and backed in to approximately the same spot.

  Franz wondered if there was a connection between the Marriott and this apartment complex. He assumed there was but reminded himself that reporters don’t assume, because assumptions make reporters look dumb, or worse. All assumption was good for was jumping from limb to limb in a story. If you were good at it, you jumped to the right limb and end up with the truth. If you were bad, you just wound up falling on your face empty handed. Steve Franz was a pretty good monkey.

  Chapter 61

  Madison waited in the SUV. He knew Dawn was off today, but didn’t know if she’d be home. Then, when he saw the white Cavalier in the lot, he knew she was home. She might be in the gym, or in the laundry room, so he thought he would wait for a few minutes at his familiar perch and watch. His plan was to go to the front door and say hello, tell her he was in the area and wanted to stop by and see the new place everyone was raving about. He would say he tried to bring Jill but that she was tied up with something. The Good Madison was trying to get a question passed through the thick, vault-like head of his but was having a hard time getting through the noise of lust and desire. The question, which finally slipped through to his conscious mind was this: “Didn’t you learn anything Sunday night, you idiot? You can’t do things like this. This type of ruse is for stalkers and perverts. You are neither of those. You are an upstanding citizen. Get out of here while you still have your dignity.” The voice went on, but it all came down to basically the same message. This was not acceptable behavior. Madison hated being told that, even by his own conscience.

  Jill and Dawn were having tea in the front room, Dawn had the mini-blinds open to let in light. The sun was still behind the building making it easy to see out and impossible to see in. In the afternoon she had to close the blinds or the opposite effect became true. Dawn was sitting on the couch with her back to the picture window and Jill was sitting on a chair facing the sofa, which provided a little more height and stability for her and the baby.

  Jill took a sip of tea and cocked her head slightly to the right. Dawn saw the curious look and asked what was the matter.

  She put the cup back on the saucer and said, “That looks like my husband’s SUV out in the parking lot.”

  Dawn sat her cup down and pivoted on the sofa. “The black one? I think someone who lives here has one like his. I saw his at the housewarming party. He was arriving as I was walking up the street, and I saw him get out. He got a way better parking place than me. Anyway, when I saw another one like it parked here, I made the connection. You don’t see many like that one. But it’s here all the time, it couldn’t be Pastor’s.”

  “Funny,” Jill said, taking another sip of tea. A few moments later, Jill nearly dropped her cup when she saw her husband get out of the Range Rover and begin walking toward Dawn’s unit. “Dawn, that is, too, Madison, and he’s coming this way.” She set her cup on the coffee table and got up. She looked again to make sure, and then both women started for the door.

  Chapter 62

  Madison didn’t expect the door to open, and, walking against the sunlight, he couldn’t really tell who had emerged. But as he shielded his eyes from the sun, squinting and smiling against the glare as he walked forward, he was suddenly met with a familiar voice from the shadows ten feet in front of him.

  “Mad? What are you doing here?” Jill asked.

  Madison’s life flashed before his eyes. He was caught red-handed approaching the door of a single woman, something he had vowed never to do. As he finally passed out of the direct sunlight and into the shade of the two-story building, he saw his wife standing with Dawn Neilson. He forced a smile and tried to recover.

  “Jill... I’m so glad you’re here... I’ve been looking for you.”

  “But, Mad. How did you find me? What are you doing?” she asked, confused and beginning to get upset.

  “I, uh, I tried your cell, and there was no answer. I got worried when you weren’t at home.” He was rambling and he knew it, but he hoped he sounded convincing and concerned. He approached Jill and hugged her, mostly to hide his guilty eyes.

  “Oh, excuse me, hello Dawn. So,
this is the new place?” he said, feeling as if he recovered well.

  “This is the place,” she said, waving to the open door behind her, not knowing what else to say since she was almost certain that was the same car that she had seen here a dozen times before.

  “Well, Mad, we were having tea. I’d invite you to join us, but it’s girl stuff. I’m sure you understand,” Jill said with zero southern charm. “But thank you for worrying about me. The car’s in the shop. They’re calling me when it’s done. So I’m fine - everything is fine.”

  “Okay, all right. You be careful now. You’re carrying precious cargo. Okay, ‘bye then,” he said, smiling and turning to go. Madison walked back to his car feeling low and dirty for deceiving his wife. He’d forgotten that the Xterra was going into the shop today. He’d surely have noticed it in the parking lot. “She deserves better,” he thought.

  He drove right past the Taurus sitting across the street but never noticed the man with the cell phone on his left ear. Steve Franz put the phone down after Madison had driven away and took a deep breath trying to figure out what had just taken place. He recognized the young girl. It was Miss Neilson from Starbucks. Pastor Enright had been gawking at her during their interview, so that part made a little sense. The other woman was a mystery though. She seemed to know the pastor - either sister or wife - Steve guessed. So the wife/sister was visiting Miss Neilson, and the pastor paid a visit. They didn’t welcome him in so maybe the visit was ill-timed. This guy is hard to read but easy to figure.

  Chapter 63

  “I’ll say it first. That was weird,” Jill said when the two got back into the apartment.

  “He seemed really concerned, like he was frantic to find you.”

  “You think? I don’t know. I thought he looked like he saw a ghost or something.”