Authors: Maddie Cochere
“I’m so sorry, Ann
a,” I told her. I really didn’t
know what to say.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she said. “I have sadness for before, but I feel no sadness today for being free of him.” She paused for a moment to sip her tea
,
then said, “I’m sorry I don’t introduce you to my sister, Trella, but she is angry. She wants me to go back to Mexico with her, but I tell her no. I can sell the house and the expensive things Gilbert bought, and I can rent a small apartm
ent and start over. I am a
good baker, and I think I can get work in one of the hotels.”
“Anna, what did the police say they think happened to Gilbert?” I asked her.
“His skull was crushed from a hard
object,” she said
.
“
He was put on the railroad tracks to hide evidence. They still looking into it, but have no leads. So many people don’t like him, and they think they never find who did this. They say it could
be
a gang. The
police
were here, but don’t find anything. Even the computers
are
empty.”
She stood up and went to a small cabinet. She pulled an object out of a stone crock. “I find this after the police go. I don’t know what it means, and I’m afraid to go myself. I was afraid to call the police, and I don’t know why I’m showing you.” She handed a motel key to us. Starburst Motel. The key was for room 236. “I don’t know if he had a mistress, or if he go there after work to sleep and not come home.”
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 corp
orate 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 in
volved, 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 hard
er. “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 direct
ions 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, v
ending 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 d
ashing 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.
T
he 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 dang
er. 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 i
nsisting, 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!
“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 l
ow 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 q
uestion. 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 arriv
ed. What a jerk. No one walks so
close to the wall when a match i
s 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 th
e
ball around you.”
We exited the court to all of the
employees,
who would normally play in the league
,
e
xclaiming 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 th
e 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 shi
ning, and I felt
, once again, I had made her pr
oud. She had told everyone
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
. T
hey 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 s
ame 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.