by Theresa Weir
“I could close up for a few hours,” the one who’d drawn the shortest straw said forlornly, not wanting to be left out.
“You lost,” one of the other kids said. He shook his keys and grabbed his can of pop and cigarettes in preparation for departure. The two winners scrambled to open doors, shooting each other dark looks they thought Cleo wouldn’t catch.
The driver’s name was Chad, his friend’s name was Jed. Chad ended up having an El Camino, which meant no backseat. Sitting in the middle, air conditioning blasting between her legs, cigarette smoke choking her, Cleo asked, “How far to the airport?”
Daniel banged on the door of room number six. No answer.
He gave up and walked to the lobby to find Willie.
Daniel was a cop, so Willie naturally disliked him.
“Cleo Tyler. The woman in number six,” Daniel said. “Know where she is?”
“Nope.”
“Have you seen her recently?”
“Nope.”
“Gimme a key to her room.”
“Can’t do that, man.”
“Gimme a key.”
“You got a search warrant?”
“Just give me the fucking key.”
“Okay, man, but I don’t like doing anything illegal.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Daniel strode back to Cleo’s room, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. He was hit by the stench of greasy French fries and body odor. What a dive. Near the door, under the window, the air conditioner clanked away as if taking its last breath.
No Cleo.
Her suitcase was on the floor where it had been the day before. On the foot of the bed was a long gray tank top kind of thing he figured she slept in. In the bathroom, Daniel turned on the light. On the floor, under the sink, he spotted a pile of red hair. He picked it up and moved it between his fingers.
Back in the lobby, he drilled Willie.
“You say you haven’t seen anything of Tyler today?”
“Yep.”
“That’s funny, because I could have sworn I saw both of you downtown at the bank.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”
“After you came back, did you see her leave the motel?”
Willie pointed over his shoulder. “She headed that way. Up the tracks. Dressed like she didn’t want anybody to know it was her.”
Shanghai City was the next town. “What was she wearing?”
“Flannel shirt. Jeans. A cap.”
“You wouldn’t be shitting me, would you?”
“No, man. Why would I do that?”
Daniel was leaving when Willie shouted after him, “Hey, if she’s in some kind of trouble, I had nothing to do with it. You hear me, man?”
Daniel’s cop car wasn’t flashy like Jo’s. In fact, you wouldn’t even know it was a cop car unless you were close enough to read the lettering on the driver’s door. But with an eight-cylinder 350 under the hood, it could really cover ground.
There was only one business in Shanghai City and that was a gas station. Inside the station, Daniel found a bored kid behind the counter.
“Have you seen a woman around here in the last hour or two?” Daniel asked.
The kid shrugged. “I dunno.”
“She’s about-” Daniel thought a moment and held up one hand. “About this tall.” He almost said long red hair, but then he remembered the hair he’d found in the motel bathroom. “Red hair.”
“Don’t think so.”
Daniel sighed and reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out his billfold, and flashed his badge. That got the kid’s attention. Under normal conditions, Daniel never took out his badge. It was just something he didn’t like to do. Too dramatic.
“There was a lady here,” the kid said. “She wanted a lift to the airport in St. Louis. My friends gave her a ride.”
“What are they driving?”
The kid gave him a description of the vehicle.
“When’d they leave?
“I don’t know.” The kid thought. “Half hour ago maybe?”
Daniel moved toward the door. The kid came around the counter, following him. “My friends didn’t do nothing,” he said, talking fast, staying a few steps behind Daniel. “They just gave her a ride. What’d she do? Escape from jail?”
Daniel thought about her room at The Palms. “Something like that.”
“Wow.”
The kid was impressed. And it was hard to impress kids nowadays.
Daniel caught up with them about an hour outside of St. Louis.
There weren’t many El Caminos on the road anymore, so when he spotted the ugly maroon truck/car combination, he figured it had to be them.
He ran a license plate check and discovered the owner was a seventeen-year-old male named Chad Donald. He had a couple of speeding tickets, nothing more. Daniel dropped back and almost lost them when, without warning, they suddenly cut across a lane of traffic and exited.
Daniel managed to exit, keeping his distance as he tailed them into a service center. As he watched, they pulled up to an island for gas. Still keeping his distance, Daniel coasted into the truck and trailer area, parked, and waited.
One of the kids jumped out and began pumping gas. The other two occupants went inside.
Daniel slipped from the car and walked in the direction of the convenience store. Inside, he gave the place a quick once-over, his gaze tracking down the food aisle, past glass refrigerators, to a hallway with a plastic restrooms sign. He ducked under the sign. Without hesitation, he opened the door to the women’s restroom and went inside.
There was only one occupant. A woman, wearing a tight black skirt. A woman with a rose tattoo on her ankle.
With her back to him, she turned off the water, then slowly lifted her head. In the mirror he saw that she had dark stuff around her eyes, and her lips were very red. Those eyes grew wider. The red mouth dropped open.
He smiled. He just couldn’t help it. “Howdy, Cleopatra.”
Chapter Seven
“Let me guess. Queen of Scams, right?” Daniel said, speaking to her reflection.
Cleo slowly straightened.
“Nice look for you, Cleopatra.”
She watched in the mirror as he stepped closer. “My name is Cleo.” Afraid he was going to grab her and slap her into a pair of cuffs, she swung around to face him.
“Tired of me already?” he asked. He didn’t look angry. No, he looked slightly amused-and oh so smug, as if he’d known all along that she would run out on them, as if she’d just confirmed every bad thing he thought about her. Until now his opinion had been based on nothing more than speculation.
“Are you here to give me your blessing?” she finally managed to ask, thankful that her voice didn’t betray her unease. “Since you wanted me out of Egypt all along.”
He stood there watching her. Then he let out a gust of air, looking at her as if she were some damsel in distress who’d just asked him to change her flat tire on a hot day.
“Oh, I want you out of town all right,” he said conversationally. “But I don’t want you to publicly humiliate Jo in the process. That’s not part of the package. No, you’re coming back to Egypt to read your tealeaves or whatever bogus crap you do. Then you can be on your way.”
“You know as well as I do that Jo lost the key and won’t admit it,” Cleo said, playing for time, her mind racing. “Why should I go back and pretend to be looking for something I’ll never find? They need to see what’s in front of their eyes and get the damn locks replaced.”
“What about your dog?”
Why did he have to bring up Premonition? She didn’t want to think about Premonition. Should she try to explain? No, it would be too difficult, and he would never believe her. Let him think she was hard. And I am hard. I am unfeeling, she thought, trying to convince herself. She had to believe it, otherwise how could she go on? How could she survive?
“You’re everything I thought you’d be and more,” he said
.
From anyone else, the line could have been taken as a compliment. From Sinclair, it could never be misconstrued as anything but an insult. He hadn’t mentioned the money. He must not have known that Jo had paid her already. She hoped he didn’t find out. If he did, he’d never believe that she’d planned to pay it back. “Glad I lived up to your expectations,” she said levelly, her rapid heartbeat beginning to slow. “I’d hate to disappoint you.”
He started to say something-a stinging comeback she imagined-when a knock sounded on the outer door. “Hey, you okay in there?” A young man’s voice. “Charisse? You okay?”
Daniel’s eyebrows lifted. “Charisse?”
“It seemed appropriate.”
“Is there anything about you that’s real?”
She thought about that a moment. She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t know.
The door opened and Chad stuck his head inside, surprised to see Daniel. “What’s going on? Is this guy flashing you?” The kid was all flustered, nervous bravado. “I’ve heard about you whackos, hanging out in public restrooms, attacking women.”
Jed showed up behind his friend. They both pushed their way into the room, braver as a team. “Get the hell out of here,” Chad told Daniel.
“Yeah, leave her alone, you pervert,” Jed added.
Daniel stared at Cleo. “Tell them,” he said to her.
She didn’t say a word.
When it became apparent that she had no intention of speaking, Daniel let out a sigh, looking more annoyed than concerned. Chad lifted his arm. Cleo’s first thought was that he had a knife. But it wasn’t a knife-it was a bottle.
Before she could shout a warning, Chad brought it down against Daniel’s skull.
Cleo screamed, glass shattered, brown liquid exploded. Daniel sank to his knees, hitting the floor hard, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Come on!” Chad motioned for her to hurry. “Let’s get outta here!”
Daniel was struggling to stay conscious, blood dripping from his scalp, running down his face. “Don’t do it, Cleo,” he mumbled. “I’ll have the kid’s ass for assaulting an officer.”
On one hand, she was relieved that he was able to speak, on the other, she was afraid he would carry out his threat.
“He didn’t know you were a cop,” she argued. No one could look less like a cop than Daniel Sinclair.
“I can do anything I want.”
“He’s a cop?” Chad asked.
Cleo could see Chad struggling to change gears.
“Yes,” Cleo said.
“Oh, shit.”
“You’d better go.” She didn’t want to drag them into her mess. They’d only been trying to protect her. “I’ll be fine. Get out of here.”
They scrambled away, the door swinging shut behind them.
Daniel crawled to the nearest wall, turned and sat down, leaning his back and head against the tiles. He wasn’t bleeding as badly as she’d thought, some of the blood was obviously cola.
She poked around his head, separating his hair until she found a bump. In the middle of the bump was a small gash.
She wet a paper towel and dabbed it on the wound. When it seemed the bleeding had stopped, Daniel rose unsteadily to his feet. He stood there a moment, then reached for Cleo, putting one arm around her for support. His body was rock hard and as hot as a furnace.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.
Cleo let him lead the way through a maze of trucks until they came to the black car she’d seen him in that morning.
While the air was by no means fresh, the hot breeze, with its fuel and exhaust fumes, seemed to revive him a little. He let go of her and rounded the car, moving fairly well. Before getting inside, he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off, then used the bundled fabric to dry his chest, neck and face, his muscles rippling. He was a sight to behold, and didn’t even know it.
He looked across the top of the car at Cleo, squinting his eyes against a sun that was getting low in the sky. It would be dark soon. It was a good five hours to Egypt. Plenty of time to figure something out, plenty of time to get away if she decided to.
“I’ll drive,” she said. It was a way to let him win without losing face. “You’re not in any shape to be behind the wheel.” She held out her hand, expecting him to give her the keys.
He ignored her hand, circled the car, and opened the passenger door. One hand on the hood, one on the open door, he said, “I’m not giving you the keys until I’m belted in my seat.”
Chapter Eight
Pull off at the next exit,” Daniel said after they’d been driving for an hour. Cleo assumed he had to use the restroom, but after she exited, he told her to turn here and turn there until they were in front of a hotel called The Towers. She checked the clock on the dash. 9:00 p.m. “What are we doing?” If they kept going, they could be in Egypt by one o’clock.
“I’m tired, I’m hungry, I’m sticky, and my head hurts like hell.”
A hotel? With Sinclair? Christ, could this get any worse? She knew one thing-she had to ditch him before he found out about the money. He harbored enough hostility toward her to toss her in jail. Under normal conditions, she would have flat-out refused to stay in a hotel with him, but stopping might buy her the time she needed.
She guided the car up the smooth drive and pulled to a stop in front of a set of automatic double doors.
“Go in and get the room.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a billfold, and opened it. His badge was there in plain sight as he rummaged in the wallet for cash. “One room. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Then swing through the gift shop and get me a shirt and a toothbrush.”
Yeah, she’d swing through the gift shop and out the back door.
She was sliding from the car when he caught her by the arm. “Oh, and Cleo? Don’t try running out a back door or anything. If you do, I’ll catch you and toss your ass in jail.”
He meant it.
The back door probably hadn’t been a good idea anyway, she thought as she made her way to the reception desk. It wouldn’t have given her much time. No, she needed to get away that night, while he was asleep. That way she could put some distance between them before he woke up and found her gone. Maybe she could even make it to St. Louis. She would leave his car at the airport and be on a plane before he woke up.
She ended up getting a room with two queen beds. As she was signing in she remembered that she hadn’t given Chad the hundred dollars she’d promised him.
Damn.
At the gift shop she picked up two toothbrushes, toothpaste, a small can of deodorant, a disposable razor, and the perfect shirt. Across the front, in black letters, it read: My Kids Went to the Ozarks and All They Got Me Was This Stupid T-shirt.
“Room four-forty-three,” she told Daniel, sliding behind the wheel, dropping the bag of purchases on his lap, and handing him the white plastic card with the magnetic strip.
“The money,” he said, palm up, fingers wiggling.
At first she thought he meant the money. With relief she realized he was talking about his change. She shoved the crumpled bills and coins in his hand then pulled away from the lobby entrance, circling up a parking ramp to finally find an empty spot on level two. Once there, they took a stuffy elevator to the fourth floor, winding through a maze of twisting hallways to their room.
She leaned against the wall and watched as Daniel inserted the plastic card in the slot, got the green light, and opened the door for her to enter.
She inhaled.
The room was so clean. So wonderfully clean. And cool. So blissfully cool.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.
She dropped her bag on the bed. The room smelled like potpourri instead of BO. And the colors-not a speck of orange, or even anything remotely close to orange. It was all deep greens and purples.
She kicked off her sandals and sank her toes into the plush green carpet. Then she pulled two pillows from un
der the spread, plopped them against the headboard, threw herself on the bed, and picked up the remote control.
She flicked on the TV and began channel surfing.
“Just out of curiosity.” Daniel crossed the room, reached behind her, and, before she could stop him, pulled the elastic band from her hair.
“Oh, my God,” he muttered.
Cleo had been staring deliberately at the TV, but his horrified comment got her attention. He stood over her, his mouth hanging open. As she watched, the surprise on his face slowly bloomed into open-mouthed delight.
“What?” Her hair couldn’t look that bad. He was laughing. The son of a bitch was laughing at her. “Stop it.”
“Look in the mirror,” he gasped. “You gotta see this.”
All she had to do was lift her head a few degrees to see her reflection in the mirror across from the bed. “Oh, my God.” She put a hand to her ragged hair.
The freak in the mirror did the same.
“You son of a bitch. Stop laughing.” She flew off the bed and shoved at him with both hands, pushing at his bare stomach. He dropped the elastic band and grabbed her by the wrists. “Okay, okay,” he said, laughter still thick in his voice. He scooped up the black fabric hair band and handed it to her. She quickly slipped her hair through it, then dropped down on the bed, picked up the remote, and began pushing buttons as fast as she could.
Just you wait, Sinclair. As soon as you fall asleep, I’m going to get out of here. When you wake up in the morning, I’ll be gone, along with the money and your car.
Finished laughing at her, Daniel sat down on the other queen bed, pulled the phone over and balanced it on his thigh, pushed a series of buttons, and waited.
“Hey, Beau. It’s me. I wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be home until tomorrow. I’m staying at a hotel tonight. Grab a pen and I’ll give you the number.” He paused and waited, then gave Beau the hotel and room number. “What? No, I don’t know… Yeah, there’s a pool… No, I won’t be swimming. I know it sounds like fun, but I’m working.”
Cleo rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, maybe next time. Remember, Disney World next spring, bud. I’ve already got the reservations… Yeah… Okay. See you tomorrow. Bye.”