Authors: Cheri Lewis
He nods with a sympathetic look. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“Could you go out back to the storage room and grab the pet carrier, please?”
He pauses a moment and I know he just realized he’s not only bringing home one guest but a guest plus one. I wait for him to comment but he turns and leaves me to finish packing. I suck in a big breath and speak aloud to myself, “Pull it together, and quit crying. You don’t know for sure someone is trying to kill you. This is just precaution until we know for sure.”
I open my suitcase and pull the smaller suitcase and cosmetic case from inside.
If only I had read the card. Why did I throw those flowers away without reading the damn card?
I take the cosmetic case into my bathroom and start dropping in different items. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror I want to start crying all over again. My eyes are all puffy and red, my face is blotchy, and my nose looks like I could play the part of Rudolph in the annual Christmas play at church.
What does it matter how you look? You should be able to look like crap, when you possibly have a serial killer after you.
I sigh then look into my shower trying to decide if I should take my travel shampoo or all my big bottles. I remember the shaggy man I found when I first met him and decide to go with all my big bottles. Before I walk out of the bathroom I grab the air freshener and hand soap.
Better to be safe than sorry.
I carry my cosmetic case back into my bedroom and see Tank coming down the hallway carrying the pet carrier. When he makes it to my door I point for him to sit it on the floor beside the wall, I begin folding my clothes and putting them into my suitcase. “Your cat bolted when I walked in the back door with the carrier,” Tank says quietly.
I look up at him and huff, sounding like a completely different person talking with my stuffy nose, “The only trip she takes in the pet carrier is to the vet, I’m sure that’s why. That means we’re going to have a lot of fun trying to catch her, because she
hates
going to the vet.”
Tank nods and stares at me a few seconds, I know he’s trying to think of something to say to try to calm me down but he obviously comes up with nothing when he says, “I’ll try to round her up while you finish packing.”
I don’t even bother telling him he won’t be able to find her and, if he does, good luck catching her. What Alexander said earlier replays through my mind again.
From the Intel we have, there’s about two months from the time the roses arrive till the end of his game. Have you received any more gifts?
No, I haven’t received any gifts. Doesn’t he think I would tell him if I had received any more gifts? And why wouldn’t he tell me what kind of gifts the other people received?
I gaze at my pile of clothes then decide who cares if they are all a mess
, Jessie isn’t here to boss me… Oh crap, Jessie I need to call Jessie.
I pull out my cell phone from my pocket, sit on the side of the bed and dial his number; of course it goes to voicemail. My shaky, “Hey—” is all I manage; I break down sobbing into the phone.
I don’t know if he was nearby or heard me all the way in the living room. Tank is suddenly there. He pulls the phone from my hand and draws me up into his arms, hugging me close to him. I grab him tightly knowing if he lets go I would crumble to the floor. As I cry uncontrollably into his shoulder, he begins speaking to me in a soft voice, and I can feel his hand lightly caressing my back. Between the sound of his voice and his light touches I begin to calm and focus on the words he’s repeating over and over, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned—” I lift my head and peer into his sincere eyes and find myself lost in them. After a brief moment he looks away. I lay my head back on his shoulder not ready to let go and he continues to whisper those same soothing words and thankfully he doesn’t let me go until I’m ready.
****
We have to hunt for Prima for almost 20 minutes when we find her hiding in the dryer. That’s a new place for us both. I guess I’d left the dryer door open after my last load of laundry. Tank loads my luggage and a very vocal Prima into his SUV. I follow him out on the last trip and stop at my car. “What about my car?”
“I’m going to have Cootie bring it to my place in a little bit.”
“I can drive. I’m alright. I’ll just follow you.”
“He’s already on his way over and we need to stop at the store anyway so it would make it simpler if we both ride together.” He says as he sticks the last piece of luggage in the back of his SUV.
I give him a look of confusion.
It doesn’t make the slightest sense that I can’t follow him but arguing with him isn’t worth it. I’m exhausted, my head hurts, and it’ll be nice not to be alone.
When Tank opens his passenger side door a loud sound echoes from inside his vehicle and I instantly recognize that loud cat cry. Prima is pissed. “Yeeoow, Yeeoow…”
Tank walks two steps then opens the back door and bends down to look in her cage, then stands, looks at me and points at Prima. “Does she always sound like that?”
I don’t know why I do it. He’s been nothing but kind to me and he’s trying to save my life but the sarcasm side of my brain speaks first, “Yes, she had an operation and her voice is permanently stuck that way. I promise you won’t even notice it after awhile.”
He doesn’t hide his apprehension very well but he also doesn’t say a word. He shuts the door and we climb into his vehicle and take off for the store.
By the time we pull into the parking lot, my ears ache and Tank’s white knuckle grip and gritted teeth are very hard not to notice. I must admit, I thought about stopping a few times and strapping down her kennel to the roof.
My gosh that cat can holler.
I open my door and turn to Tank, “I’ll be right back.”
He already has his door open and is half out of the vehicle. “I’m coming with you.”
I nod then shut my door. “Hey, will you crack the windows a little? I know it’s not that hot this evening but I like knowing she has fresh air.”
He leans back in and puts the key back in the ignition, I smile when he winces at the “Yeeoow” that cries from the backseat. He lowers all the windows a few inches and then he mumbles to himself, “The damn Law is going to be called out here to check on a wild animal stuck in a vehicle.”
I think that’s the first time in hours that I actually smile. “It won’t take me long, I need to go to the pet section for Prima and then I need to get… hey, do you have coffee and the stuff you need to go along with it?”
He reaches up and scratches his head and then looks in deep thought, which really worries me on a different level.
The man doesn’t know what he has and there is no telling how old it is
, “Never mind I have my favorites of that too, I’ll pick that up as well. You do have a coffee maker that works, right?”
“Yeah, it works.”
“Okay, great.”
I grab some breakfast blend coffee, various flavors of liquid creamer and hit the snack isle in case he doesn’t have anything at his house. I’d decided before we left my house to buy Prima a new litter pan and litter because I wasn’t in any mood to change and clean my old litter pan. “I can’t believe you would spend thirteen dollars on that little box of stuff when there is a fifty pound bag right here and it’s on sale for four dollars.” His foot kicks a pallet of cheap kitty litter.
I eye Tank. “Clearly you’ve never had an inside cat before.” He shakes his head. “If you had never seen Prima would you’ve known I had a cat?” He looks at me half crazy, and I sigh. “Let’s just put it this way, you will be thankful I bought the more expensive stuff.”
He shrugs and we finish my shopping. I can hear Prima when we walk out the door of the store.
My poor baby is going to have a sore throat tomorrow.
Luckily we don’t have that much further to go and I’m shocked when we pull up outside of the old building where we had our first initial meeting. “This is where you live?” I ask stunned.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have a house?”
His silence answers my question but after a moment he softly said, “I let it go back.”
It must have reminded him too much of his wife, but why not buy a new house? Why live in an office building
? I don’t ask him. I just nod and grab Prima out of the back seat and we both begin taking everything inside. I make sure to pay attention to the brick that’s missing out of the step so I don’t fall and break my neck. Once inside I open the carrier to let Prima out. I pull her into my arms and sit in one of the chairs. Her little nose is working overtime trying to figure out where we are and her ears are laid back. She is still pissed.
Maybe once she figures out we aren’t at the vet she will calm down
.
Tank brings in the bags from the store and says, “You’ll be staying in the basement.”
Basement!
I try not to sound ungrateful but I don’t think I’ll like staying in the basement, “Um, Tank, don’t you have a spare bedroom upstairs or something?”
He shakes his head. He motions for me to follow him so I stand and walk behind him through the lobby and then through a tiny kitchen which holds a small mini-fridge that my coffee creamer will completely fill. He stops in front of a closed door at the back of the kitchen and flips a light switch beside the door. When he opens the door and starts down the stairs, I hold Prima tightly, bringing her closer to me and pet her as I hold my breath and I start down the stairs behind him. I blow out the breath I’d been holding when we reach the bottom step because this isn’t a basement; this is a house underneath an office building. When Tank turns around I have my mouth open to ask but nothing comes out. He half smiles then says, “This was my dad’s place before he died, he left it to me and now it’s mine.”
I nod slowly.
Wow
. When you come down the steps you enter a large area that was apparently the living room. It has oversized furniture placed all facing an older model big screen television. The carpet is blue and the furniture is a large gingham white and blue pattern. Everything seems to be stuck in the 90s but it’s all in good shape. There are pictures hanging on the wall. I make a mental note I would come back and investigate those later. He disappears down a short hallway and flips on light switches as he goes. I put Prima down when he starts calling out different rooms, “This is the kitchen, the bathroom, and there are two bedrooms down here. You can take your pick. You’ll probably want the larger room though.” I peek in the kitchen as I pass by and it’s a full size kitchen with a full size refrigerator,
thank God
. The bathroom is a typical bathroom, shower and a tub, a single sink under the mirror. The first bedroom holds a twin size bed and it’s small, like matchbox small. I cross the hallway and walk into the second bedroom. Tank is standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips staring at the room. I peek around him and it definitely is the larger room, there is a large dresser made with real wood with a mirror on top and an assembled bed frame set up in the middle of the room but no mattress or box spring. One wooden nightstand sits beside the wall with a lamp that’s missing its shade. I open my mouth to point out there is a slight problem with sleeping in here, because of the missing mattress and box spring. But I close it, then open it and close it two more times and just decide to take the smaller room. He turns to me and answers my unasked question, “My dad bought a new mattress set, it’s still in the wrapper if you don’t mind helping me set it up, I’ve never had a need for it so I just left it propped up against the wall.”
As tired as I am, I know I won’t sleep and this will help keep my mind busy. “I need to set up Prima's litter box first. Do you have a preference on where I keep it?”
He shakes his head. “No where’d you keep the last one?”
“I had it in the utility room because there was no carpet and it was out of the way.”
“That’ll work.”
He walks out and I stand in my new bedroom trying to figure out what seems so odd about this room. The dark wood paneling on the walls and the wood dresser seem to be a bit overwhelming on wood. Apparently his dad liked the wood look considering it’s on every wall of the underground house. I glance behind me when Tank sits my luggage inside the door, then continues down the hallway. When I step out into the hall, he isn’t there but there’s a light shining out. I get to the door way I lean against the door frame and watch. He has the new litter pan lying on top of the washing machine cutting off the tabs with his pocket knife. I hear Prima’s soft meow and I lean back a bit and watch as she pads down the hallway toward me. She rubs against my leg. He’s now pouring the litter inside and I tell him, “You’re going to have to take the door off the front; she won’t go in there if you leave the door on.”
He eyeballs me. Either I’m crazy for spoiling my cat or I’m crazy for knowing she won’t go into a litter pan with a door. He pops the door off then set the pan beside the washing machine. I scoop up Prima and shove her in the litter pan so she will know exactly where to go.
I stand and back away as I listen to Prima scratching around then say to him, “Thanks for doing that. Where’s the mattress? I can start taking off the plastic.”