An Important Notice to Readers...
Although this fiction blog is illustrated with photos of dolls, and dollhouse miniatures, the language and content of the storyline is intended for an adult audience. Please be advised.
|Beckett waits in the utility closet for Maureen|
Beckett inched the door open, a crack wide enough for her slight size, and drew her in. Breathless with both exertion and anticipation, she was the cause of an overwhelming temptation to shuck his rigorous timetable. It was only years of training, and formidable will power, that would save him in this situation. Pulling her closer, he praised her compliance. "Good girl. You made it in just over 3."
Maureen threw her arms around his neck. "I aim to please, dear husband. And since I meet your goal, I do believe a reward is in order."
Damn...she was making this difficult. Sighing, he forced himself away. "Hold that thought, baby. Right now, we have to make a run for it before anyone notices you're missing."
"Run? Run where? I don't know what you mean."
With his foot, he inched the door open, and stuck his head in the hall, one hand still vise gripped around his bride's wrist. Seeing no one there, he tugged on her arm and led the way toward the hotel's delivery entrance. As a team of one, the crazy bitch would most likely stake out a position in the front main parking lot. This would give her the advantage of being able to clearly see three of the building's exits, while maintaining some sense of reliable cover. She probably knew the service entrance was here, but staking out that one exit, instead of the three more likely ones, would be a huge gamble on her part. He liked his odds, and continued in that direction. Next to him, Maureen began to fuss, peppering him with questions, and confused over the odd turn of events. He answered with a stern glance, and a finger to his lips, and she fell gratefully silent.
As expected of a Sunday evening, that area of the hotel was deserted. They were nearly out the door when a sudden thought crossed his mind. If by some slim chance he had judged Cassie wrong, and she was stationed at the delivery entrance, Maureen's ginger locks would make her an easy mark. Checking around, Beckett noticed an old hooded jacket lying in a heap on top a nearby pallet. It would be much too large, and smelled like stale sweat, but in lieu of anything better, it would have to do. Picking it up, he tossed it toward his wife. "Here baby girl...put this on for me."
She caught it with both hands, and then getting a full whiff, wrinkled her nose. "Ewhh...it smells awful. I'm not wearing this." She dropped it in a heap at her feet, and crossed her arms across her chest. " Just what the hell is going on, Ted? You're acting like some kind of lunatic."
He grinned, all sex and sin. "It's a surprise. Kind of an adventure. You're gonna just have to play along."
"Well...I'm all for surprises, but I'm not putting on that nasty jacket. It reeks, and I have no idea who wore it before I did. What if they have some disease ...or something."
He didn't say word. Just continued to stand there, hands on hip, and stared at her.
The show down lasted a near two full minutes, but eventually she reached down and picked up the filthy jacket, her tisking and sighing echoing in the empty room. When she had it zipped, he flipped the hood over her hair, and grabbing her hand, headed out the door, and into the night.
|Cassie watches the hotel from a stolen car in the parking lot|
She stayed long enough to watch the first responders, and despite a burning desire to be there when he finally arrived...to watch his face as he took in the destruction...sensibility won over emotion, and she headed 30 miles outside of town. There was little doubt he had security looking for her, and it was imperative that she change her location, and mode of transportation, every few hours. And though she missed his first reaction at the house on Maple Avenue, she did catch a glimpse of he and the red headed twit returning to the hotel in the wee hours of Sunday morning. Through the lens of the binoculars, she thought that he had looked somewhat weary, but mainly pissed, and in spite of the absurdity of the reaction, she found her getting turned on over the thought of his anger directed at her.
The newlyweds hadn't stirred from the hotel from that point on, although from the flurry of activity around the hotel late Sunday afternoon, something must be going on. She moved from spot to spot around the grounds, keeping low in the car to avoid being spotted. Even though she was once again in disguise, her hair tucked under a baseball cap, and sporting a very realistic moustache, there was no reason to test the fates by flaunting her presence. She had faced a close call several hours earlier, when that asshole priest had walked by only a few cars away from her in the east parking lot. She pretended to be on a cell phone, her face turned away from the window, hopefully drawing no attention to herself. But the priest seemed to be in his own world, and strode past without a glance in her direction.
Now, it was nearly eight, and there still was no sign of Beckett, or the woman. It was very possible that they had decided on another night at the Park West before venturing out into the real world. Over the past three hours, she had searched the web high and low for some clue as to what the man might have planned next. Knowing him as she did, she'd guess that he might skip town, while his team stayed behind and tried to track her down. But she had been frustrated at every attempt. No plane or train tickets, no rental car issued in his name. If he had reservations somewhere, he was keeping a very low profile. She had set up a watch on passports, and if he tried to use his, she would instantly be alerted. Right now, the two of them were ghosts. Not on a single radar. But at some point, they'd need to check out of the safety of the Park West, and when they did, Cass would be waiting.
|Fr. Kevin finally apologizes|
He wandered over to the lobby on the off chance they might be there, seeing some people off to their cars. But the space was empty and quiet, except for the lone woman standing near the front desk, the suitcase at her feet an indication of her departure. It seemed his last ditch opportunity to try and talk to Roxanne, apologize and explain, before she took off for his sister's apartment. He thought about waiting for a better time, maybe later in the week, but straightened his shoulders, and made his way toward her. If nothing else, she might know where Maureen had gone off to.
"Excuse me, Roxanne. I know you probably don't want to speak to me right now...but would you happen to have any idea where I might find Maureen? She seems to have disappeared from the banquet room."
For a moment, she refused to turn around and look at him, and then with a sigh, faced him. "I talked to her about ten...fifteen minutes ago. She gave me her apartment keys, and share some last minute advice on working in the deli. Then I left to get my suitcase from my room, I haven't seen her since."
"Oh. Well...I guess she must be somewhere in the hotel. It was weird. She was like standing there talking to my brother and his wife, and then...Poof! She's gone. Just like that."
By her wary expression, it was obvious that she thought he was an idiot. "I suggest you try their room. That'd be my guess."
The silence between them hung heavy. With the knowledge that the rest was up to him, Kevin jumped in, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a thick rush. "Look Rox...I've been trying to apologize for the last two days. It seems like every time I open my mouth, I just keep saying the wrong things. I don't know why. But the fact is...I'm sorry. Sorry for the way I left things when we were kids. Sorry for not explaining why way back when I should have. And really sorry I made it seem like I didn't want you staying on a bit in Dollyville. I think what you're doing for Maureen, and the Schillers, is terrific. Very nice of you. And I hope...that is...if you'd like to...maybe we can grab a pizza some night...and talk things out. I know I have a lot of explaining to do. And I really would like to hear how things have been with you." When she said nothing, he continued. "I guess... I understand if you're...too busy...or something."
Her face was calm, but expressionless. "I'll think about it, Kevin. Let me see what my schedule is like at this job, and then I'll give you call over at the church, okay."
He felt a tremendous amount of relief over the unburdening of his guilty conscience. At least he had gotten the heavy weight off his chest. "Sure. That would be great. Call me. Whenever you want, Rox." They stood awkward posture, neither knowing what to say next, until Roxanne moved first, pulling her suitcase behind her.
"Good night, Fr. Kevin."
He watched her leave the hotel, and wondered if maybe someone should go with her. Make sure she found the place okay. Arrived safely. Then he shook his head at the stupidity of that someone being him, and remembering why he had come to the lobby in the first place, pulled out his cell phone, and tried dialing his sister.
Copyright 2013 Victoria T. Rocus
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