I handed the key back to her, and tried to ease her mind by saying, “He could have stayed there a long time ago and forgot to turn the key in when he left. Or he could have found the key somewhere and simply picked it up. It seems to be an old style which most places don’t even use anymore. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Yes,” she said nodding her head slowly. She seemed to accept the logic in what I had to say.
I glanced at my watch and saw it was shortly after 5:00. I smiled warmly at her and said, “Anna, thank you so much for the cookies and tea, and for sharing your story with us. I’m sorry we have to leave …” I started fishing in my purse for one of my new business cards, “… but if you ever want to talk, please give me a call. I genuinely care about how things go for you now. You have the number at the corporate offices, and I’ll be working there until Friday. Here’s my card for when I’m back home in Ohio.” I jotted my cell phone number on the back. “Please call me any time if I can help you in any way.”
“Thank you, Susan. That’s nice of you,” she said appreciatively.
We said our good-byes, and returned to the Chevelle. “Do you need to stop back at the office?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I have all of my things with me.” I pulled a piece of paper out of my purse, wrote down Starburst Motel 236, and said, “Darby, let’s find this place right now and take a look.”
“Susan, no,” he said adamantly. “You have to let this go. You can’t get involved in this.”
Just as firmly, I told him, “I’m already involved, and it’s my life that’s in danger. If there’s something in that room to let us know what Carl’s doing, I want to know. Please, Darby, let’s just go take a quick look. We can’t be too long, because I’m committed to playing racquetball with some of the employees tonight.” I could tell he was thinking about it, if only for a second. I pushed him harder. “If we find something we can take to the police, we will, and then all of this will be over.”
“Ok,” he said with some hesitation, “but how do you propose to get into the room?”
I half smiled and said, “Aunt Charlotte taught me many skills when I was a young girl. If the lock is still the same type as the key, we’ll be in within seconds.”
He pulled away from the curb, and I dialed 411 to ask for the number to the motel. A few minutes later, I was obtaining directions and telling the clerk I would probably be in later to check in.
We parked across the street from the motel. It was an older, two-story building built in a U-shape with all of the parking and doors to the rooms on the outside of the building. I had been in motels like this with my mom and dad when I was a child. There was usually the outer door leading to the parking lot, and another door on the opposite side of the room leading to an interior hallway which would take you to the office, vending machines, and a pool which was likely inside the U.
Fortunately for us, Room 236 was at the bottom of the U and not in view of the office. We walked across the street and onto the property of an office building next door before cutting over to the motel and dashing up the stairs. My nail file was already in hand, and I had us into the room within 10 seconds.
The heavy, lined curtains were pulled tight, and the room was dark. Darby felt along the wall for a switch; it turned on one lamp.
We both gasped. It was an explosion of sticky notes, charts, ledgers, paper with scribbles, and so many photographs. Some of the explosion was spread out on the bed, some of it was taped to the mirror and the walls, some was on chairs, and the rest was on the floor. I picked up a picture. The name Frank was written on the back with a dollar amount of $5,000. We both started looking for anything with Carl’s name on it.
“Susan, we have to get out of here right now,” Darby was saying as he was getting up from the floor. I rushed around to the side of the bed where he was standing and looked down. He had pulled several boxes out from under the bed. The lids were off and they were stuffed with cash. Stacks and stacks of hundred dollar bills. I was looking at a small fortune. “There are boxes like this under the entire bed,” he said. “If someone knows this cash is here, we could be in serious danger. They could come back any minute.”
My eyes widened at the realization, and my heart started racing. He was right. We needed to get out right away. While he was putting the lids back on the boxes, I scanned the room to make sure everything was where we found it. I moved the picture of Frank back to where I originally picked it up off of the bed. Darby was at the door waiting for me to come to him before turning off the light.
I surveyed the room once more and saw something familiar close to where Frank’s picture lie. It looked like one of the people I had met in the distribution center at Slimmers. I picked the picture up, and beneath it was another familiar face. I quickly grabbed that picture, too. I was shocked to see the next picture in the stack. It was a picture of Betsy Ann with a man. I snatched it up as well.
“Susan! Now!” Darby was insisting, and I could tell he was frightened.
Another picture on the bed appeared to be one of the dealers from the craps table Friday night. My mind was racing over what the pictures could possibly mean, and I quickly tucked the three pictures in my hand under the belt of my dress and made sure they were hidden by my sweater.
We peeked out the door; no one was around. We bolted back to the car like someone had lit our tails on fire. We were breathless as we climbed into our seats. Darby was fast on the key and had us on our way down the street before I could even get my seatbelt fastened. I looked around frantically. I felt as though we had been seen, but other than our heavy breathing, all seemed right with the world. I settled back. Only one car was coming down the road toward us. I looked to see who was in the car. The driver didn’t look our way, but I recognized him right away. It was Dudley, and he was heading toward the motel!
Chapter Eleven
“This is it, Susan. Do you think you can get another one by me?”
Gregory and I were on the racquetball court, and the score was tied 14-14. One more point to either of us would determine the winner. My hair was already soaked at the back of my neck. It had been a fun battle so far. He was so tall and lanky, it had been a lot of work to run around him to get to the ball and make my shots. But I had made him run, too, with ceiling shots to the back corners, or low shots to the front wall, which he practically had to dive for to reach.
I was standing in the service box, and I laughed at the question. I could only hope I would be able get another one by him. I bounced the ball twice, and set for my serve. I looked back at Gregory to double-check his position, and my eye was drawn to movement right outside the Plexiglas back wall. It was Carl, and he had just arrived. What a jerk. No one walks so close to the wall when a match is in play. I hesitated for a moment and then sent the ball low and hard down the left side of the court. Gregory was able to get his racquet on the ball and send it straight up the alley to the front wall. I was prepared for the shot and had already started to move to my left. Gregory was anticipating I would send the ball crosscourt to the right, and he was running in that direction. I lunged for the backhand, returned the ball to the front wall, and ran it straight back into the left-hand corner where it died.
“Oh! What a fakeout!” Gregory was yelling and laughing at the same time. “Great game, Susan. Betsy Ann didn’t tell us how good you really were.” He reached out to shake my hand.
“Thanks, Gregory, you’re one of the best opponents I’ve ever played. Really. It was a lot of work to get the ball around you.”
We exited the court to all of the employees, who would normally play in the league, exclaiming what a great game it was to watch.
Betsy Ann had been sitting on one of the sofa lounges which had been pulled up to within a few feet from the glass for viewing. She stood and said, “I had no idea this was such a physical sport. You both played so well, and I loved it.” Her eyes were shining, and I felt, once again, I had made her proud. She had told ever
yone I could play the game, and I didn’t let her down.
But I could also tell it was more than that. So many people have never seen racquetball played other than in a television commercial or while surfing channels. They don’t know how exciting it can be until they actually see the game played in person. The sport was nice to view from the ground level through the Plexiglas, but I loved watching matches from the open areas at the top of the back of the courts. The sounds of shoes squeaking on the lacquered wood, racquets smacking balls, balls smacking walls, and even emotions from the players, made for a much more exciting viewing experience.
Carl stepped up and said, “Susan, are you ready for someone to show you how the game is really played?”
Behind him, one of the league players rolled his eyes. I had to suppress a smile. “You go ahead and warm up,” I told him. “I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”
I hustled to the locker room to change my outfit. The back of my shirt was wet, and I wanted to towel off my neck and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I could have worn the same outfit, but when I saw Carl was wearing black, I couldn’t resist and wanted to change into my white. Good versus evil. It was a really cute outfit of soft white shorts with a matching top. The top had pink trim around the neck and sleeves. I changed into pink socks, and grabbed my white Nikes with the pink laces. I loved pink and had started wearing it on the court again after giving it up for many months.
A few minutes later, I was on the court with Carl. Quite a few people had gathered outside the glass to watch, and I was a bit apprehensive as to how this might play out.
“Shall we hit a lag shot to see who serves first?” I asked him.
“Of course,” he said dryly. “Don’t you know the rules?”
This man was so appalling to me, and his nature so abrasive, I felt my skin crawl for a second. In a friendly game, most men will defer to the lady and let her serve first, but not this jerk. He didn’t even offer to let me hit the lag shot first.
His easy shot hit the front wall, bounced off, and landed about a foot from the short line of the service box. My lag shot landed about half an inch from the short line of the service box. I would serve first.
He gave me a dirty look as he turned to take his position at the back of the court. I set up in the service box, bounced the ball twice, and took a deep breath. I looked back to check his position and briefly saw Betsy Ann on the sofa giving me thumbs-up with both hands. I couldn’t contain a small smile.
I served the ball low and hard into the front wall, driving it down the right side of the court and into the corner. I heard Carl’s racquet hit the wall, but he couldn’t get a piece of the ball, and it died for the ace. He muttered an expletive under his breath.
I made the almost identical shot to the left side of the court. He was able to get his racquet on the ball, but didn’t have enough oomph behind it to return it to the front wall. The first two points went to me. His face was slightly purple. I was weighing whether or not I should let him in the game at all. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to shut him out. I served an easy serve into his forehand.
He drilled the ball into the center of my back. It was excruciatingly painful. I’ve had my share of balls drilled into my body, but the center of the back really takes the cake. Slimeball guys actually did this on purpose because when hit, most women thrust their chests outward while howling in pain and trying to reach around behind them to rub the painful spot. It was juvenile on the man’s part, and it was almost always done on purpose. It only took one time, when I was first learning to play, to fall for this trick and then find out later all the guys were waiting for me to stick my boobs out at them. I never did it again.
I made no sound or reaction to the blow, and I refused to look at Carl. I took my position in the service box and bent over slightly at the waist waiting for the pain to subside. Within the hour, a nasty, purple, black, and blue bruise with a white center would be visible on my back. I was angry, and there would be no mercy for him now.
Carl liked to hit the ball hard which carried it far, and it kept coming off the back wall setting me up for shots. I returned as many as I could with my backhand – even from the right side of the court. My backhand was my strongest shot and it was wicked. Balls taken off of the back wall were sent smokin’ low into the front wall, and I had several kill shots, which resulted in the ball rolling straight out onto the floor, giving Carl no opportunity for a return shot.
When the score was 10-0, Carl called for a time out. As we walked toward the door to exit the court, he said to me through gritted teeth, and with a tone exuding hatred, “You’re not going to do this to me in front of all of these people. You’re going to let this score become tied, and you’re going to lose, or I’m going to be sure you never work in this business again.” With a purple face, he stormed off the court.
I was shaken by his intensity. Could he really do that? Betsy Ann said he wouldn’t have the final say in my termination, but now I wasn’t so sure. An ugly thought popped into my head. What if he meant he would kill me?
I stepped off the court, and someone yelled, “Hey, Susan, you didn’t tell us you were a professional player.” Everyone laughed. I heard several people talking about my backhand. Paul Diamond, the training director, had come to watch. He pulled me aside and asked, “Susan, are you sure you want to win over Carlton? He doesn’t like losing, and most of the employees know they should let him win.”
I nodded and smiled at the man. “I’ll take care of it,” I told him. I hated the thought of letting Carl win, but it was probably the smart thing to do.
Betsy Ann and Gregory came over with a bottle of water for me. Carl was walking back onto the court. Gregory asked, “Are you going to kick his -”
“Gregory!” Betsy Ann interrupted. “Susan, you go right ahead and win this game. Don’t you worry about Carlton. He’s needed someone to take him down a peg or two ever since he got here. I’ve spoken to Mortimer Davis several times since he heard you in the meeting yesterday, and he isn’t going to let you go anywhere. You go girl,” she said with a little fist pump. It was cute coming from her.
“Oh, yeah! This is going to be good,” Gregory said as he did some hopping up and down. He could barely contain his excitement.
I smiled at both of them and said, “I’ll do my best.”
My next two serves went in for aces. Carl was shooting daggers at me with his eyes. I only needed three more points. He tried to hit me again on my next serve, but I was watching his movements and was prepared for the juvenile move. I lunged, and his shot went wide completely missing the front wall. I sent up a soft lob shot on the next serve. It drifted high and slowly toward the back left corner. Carl swung his racquet too soon completely missing the ball.
14-0. I only needed one more point to win the game and shut him out. I could see all of the veins in his neck, and the one on his forehead was bulging. I set for the serve and blasted it hard from the front wall down the left side. Carl lunged for the ball, missed it, and fell onto the court. I could hear a cheer go up from the other side of the glass, but it was quickly quelled by someone, probably Mr. Diamond.
Carl scrambled to his feet, and with his back to the glass so no one would know what he was saying, he snarled at me, “You’re going to be sorry for all of this. You’re going to be sorry you turned me down, that you opened that door, and that did this in front of all of these people.”
Rather than to cower and be frightened, he had snapped my last nerve, and I had more anger than fear. I stood close to him so no one would see what I was saying, and I snarled right back at him, “I know what you did. I know you had Gilbert Torres murdered. I don’t have proof, and I’m leaving soon, so there’s nothing I can do about it, but I know what scum you are, and you’ll get yours. Hopefully soon.” I stomped past him and out the door of the court.
My knees were weak, and not in a good way. Mr. Diamond looked shocked, but I wouldn’t be meeting with him anymore this week, and I simply
didn’t care. Betsy Ann and Gregory were trying to suppress their smiles and giggles as Carl walked off the court and marched right to the locker room. I heard later that he left as soon as he changed his clothes.
I stayed long enough to play two more games with a couple of the women, and I gave a quick group backhand lesson to anyone who wanted to join in.
After a fast shower and a change into street clothes, I met Betsy Ann in the lobby for a ride back to the hotel. Once in the car she said, “Susan, I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun, especially with people from work. That was a lot of excitement tonight.”
“It will be interesting to see how things go tomorrow,” I told her. “I’m sure Mr. Waltham isn’t going to want to see me.”
She smiled and reached over to pat me on the arm. “Don’t worry about it. You may have done us all a favor tonight.”
I dug around in my purse until I found my cell phone. I had missed a call from Mick. I would call him later from the hotel room. I punched in Darby’s speed dial number. He answered on the first ring and asked cheerfully, “How’d it go? Did you whoop on everybody?”
“Kind of,” I told him with a laugh. “Betsy Ann is bringing me back right now. Can you meet me in the lobby?”
“I sure can,” he said. “Do you want to get some dinner?”
“How about room service?” I proposed. “I’m really beat after the late night last night and then working out so hard tonight. Would that be ok?”
“Of course it would. I’ll see you shortly,” he said before hanging up.
“Thank you, Betsy Ann,” I told her as she pulled up to the hotel entrance. “I love this sport, and it’s always so much fun to play in new clubs and with new people.”
“I’m still so impressed, Susan, and you were so kind to help everyone like you did. I can see you’re going to be very good in your new training position.”
3 Sin City Hunter Page 12