door off its hinges. Needless to say, Basilio pummeled Zippy. As her brother walked her home, he warned her Zippy Sorriano was a nasty boy and she should stay away from him. Listening to her older brother's words, Pilar felt a little guilty. After all, she'd been the one to ask Zippy if he wanted her to suck his 'pee-pee.'
Tonight, she'd make the same offer and the outcome would have a similar, but more deadly result. She'd get Zippy undressed and relaxed and then use a pillow as a silencer and shoot him in the head. She wasn't sure the pillow would work to lessen the noise of the gunshot, but the clientele of the motel wasn't the type to call the cops.
Once she was sure Zippy was dead, she'd head over to Sepulveda Boulevard where whores prowled the sidewalks. She'd pay a working girl to go over and service a 'business associate.' The prostitute would go in the room, getting her fingerprints and DNA all over the place, then the stooge would probably run, making her look guilty. It wouldn't take long for the cops to track the whore down, and even when they did and got Pilar's description, they couldn't tie the mayor to the crime.
Pilar sighed as she rolled to a stop at a red light. Eliminating Preston's little playmate, Heather McCall, had sure turned into a dangerous and complicated venture. It was a pain in the ass now, but when she was living in the White House with Preston, this would be nothing but a bad memory.
Pulling into the pot-holed parking lot of the Satin Cloud motor lodge, Pilar almost smiled. Pretty soon her problems would be over and life as a major player in politics could begin.
MADDIE – 103
I was well aware of the gun Sorriano pointed at me while I drove through the Valley. I'd made up my mind I wasn't going to go into any motel room with the dirt-bag. I knew if I did, I wouldn't come out. Most of the motels in the Valley had open parking lots. That's where I'd make my move. There might be some people who could help me. If not, I'd be able to use the engine blocks of parked cars as cover while I ran away. I just hoped Sorriano was springing for a popular dive where there'd be lots of vehicles.
"You're gonna go past the light, then make a right into the first driveway," my captor said.
I looked down the street where he directed and spied a slate gray sign in the outline of a fluffy cloud. Inside the billow were the words 'Satin Cloud' written in an elaborate neon blue script. I gripped the steering wheel more tightly, knowing I could be shot in the next couple of minutes.
"I want you to drive through the parking lot, making a full circle, then go back out," Sorriano directed.
My hands relaxed on the wheel. Excellent. I can survey the layout and figure out the best route to get away. Sorriano sure isn't using his head. He's giving me an advantage.
I maneuvered the Crown Vic through the narrow parking lot. There was a smattering of about seven cars parked at irregular intervals in stalls outside the two dozen rooms. I tried to take a mental picture of their positions, so I could plan my move for when we returned. Pulling up to the driveway to exit, I came to a stop to let the heavy traffic on Ventura Boulevard clear.
No sooner did I look left than I saw my husband's truck approaching the motel. What the hell? Travis's head was cranked to the right peering into the depths of the hotel property. Our eyes met.
What's he doing here, I thought? Does he know Sorriano has me hostage? Thrilled to see my husband, I harnessed my exuberance knowing any reaction would tip off my captor.
Travis drove past and I had to wait for a string of cars before I could pull out into the lines of traffic. I stayed in the same lane my husband had just travelled.
"Go down to the signal, make a U-turn and go back to the motel," Sorriano said.
After making the ordered turn, I tried not to be obvious about scanning the rearview mirror for Travis's truck. Did he see we were heading back to the motel? Surely he recognized me as he drove past the motel…didn't he?
I followed the directions Sorriano had given me, and within a minute we were back in the motel parking lot.
"Pull up in that corner by those rooms over there. That's where our room is…detective."
I did as I was told. This is friggin' great. I wasn't sure if I should try to get away or not. It was no coincidence my husband was passing this motel. Maybe somehow he knew I was being held hostage and had called for S.W.A.T.. I could mess up their whole plan by trying to escape now. It would be much better to have Sorriano confined to a motel room, rather than have him running armed with a gun down a busy Valley boulevard. I surely didn't want to jeopardize Tiffany. I didn't know what to do.
Parking the car alongside a beat-up green Honda, I tried to get as close to the green four-door as I could, making it hard for Sorriano to get out of my car. It would give me a chance to run for it.
"Damn it! Park the car right, you ignorant bitch! You think I'm stupid or something?" He jammed my nine-millimeter in my ribs.
I had no choice but to do what he ordered. I re-positioned the car.
"Get out! I swear to God if you make one move I'll shoot your brains out right here, and then I'll be sure Tiffany Truesdale gets the same treatment."
With Tiffany's life on the line, I had to follow instructions. I was hoping Tiffany might be stashed at this flea-bag motel.
Just before I exited the detective vehicle, I caught a flash of Travis's truck entering the motel parking lot. Thank you, God. Do what Sorriano wants. Travis knows where you are and backup is on the way.
Keeping me in front of him, Sorriano hustled me to the dingy door of the room. He held the key in his hand, but suddenly he turned and grabbed me behind the neck, pulling my head toward his. He ground his lips against mine for a few seconds before he released the vice-like grip on my neck. "Just so you know who's in charge," he said, searing me with his gaze. After opening the door, he pressed me inside, while I fought not to gag.
TRAVIS – 104
Travis couldn't believe it when he'd passed by the motel and Maddie's detective car was sitting in the driveway. There was no choice but to continue with the flow of traffic. At his earliest opportunity, he'd pulled into the parking lot of a 7-Eleven and watched as the detective car drove past him, then made a U-turn and headed back in the direction of the motel.
A soccer mom in a mini-van had spewed unladylike curses at him as he'd pulled his tall pick-up truck into traffic, cutting her off. He'd lost sight of Maddie and couldn't be sure she was going back to the motel. In fact, he wondered if she and the mysterious man in her car were searching for an address. Travis's knees went weak with relief when he turned into the motel and saw Maddie maneuvering the Crown Vic next to a green sedan.
He'd pulled into a space about twenty feet away to see what happened next. The man and Maddie got out of the car, and Travis almost shit a brick when the man pulled Maddie to him and kissed her. Travis considered running both the man and Maddie down. But there was something all wrong with Maddie's body language. In fact, after the kiss, she used her forearm to wipe her mouth. He sat transfixed as he watched the man steer his wife into the room. Now what?
Tightness gripped his chest as anxiety began to throb through his body. Take nice, deep, slow breaths. It will help you to relax. Think of a quiet place where you have no problems or worries. In his mind, Travis heard the soothing voice of his shrink, Doctor Stevens, but his body screamed for action. His wife was in trouble. He knew it with every fiber of his being. What to do?
He knew what he should do. He should call for uniformed officers. But what would he say? This is Officer Travis Divine from S.W.A.T.. I'm currently on administrative leave because my partner got his face shot off and the department thinks I'm off my rocker and can't do my job. But my wife is with a strange man in a motel on Ventura Boulevard and I think something is wrong. Could you send a unit to come check it out? "Yeah, that would go over well," he chided himself. You need more info before you call. You need to see what's going on in that room so they'll believe you.
Exiting his truck, he adjusted the 1911 semi-auto he had holstered on his hip. The LAPD may have ta
ken his duty weapons away, but he still had his personal ones. He took four steps, then stopped. If the guy in the room was a cop, he'd be packing too. It was never a good thing for two armed cops to be fighting over anything, much less a woman.
He turned back and walked to the truck. He'd lock his gun in his truck; then there'd be no danger of things getting out of hand. Are you doing the responsible thing Travis, or is it that you're afraid to face someone with a gun? What is it Travis? Are you being smart…or are you a coward?
Leaving the gun on his hip, Travis turned and walked toward the room Maddie occupied.
PILAR – 105
Pilar rarely smoked, but she'd picked up a pack on her way to meet with Sorriano. After getting to the motel, she'd already burned through three cancer sticks in the past half hour. She didn't give a rat's ass about the plastic 'No Smoking' signs placed on the cheap nightstand and on top of the round, Formica-covered table underneath the window. She used a soda can for an ashtray. She'd have to remember to take the aluminum can with her after she was done with Zippy.
She heard a car pull up outside the room. Her heart lurched, but then relaxed when she heard two car doors slam. Zippy would be alone. God, what she wouldn't give for a joint. She never carried pot on her person, but she had her own small stash
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