Containment Of Secrets

Chapter 9

(Mallory's point of view)

Friday morning and many coffees later, Braxton and I were catching a morning flight to Wilachia. I arrived extra early at the airport, unlike Braxton, who arrived super late. He was easy to spot in the busy airport crowds, given that he was dressed in detective attire.

"For once, Decker beats me at something."

"Shut up." I playfully swatted his arm with my plane ticket.

"OH! She is on time too. Yikes! This day is already making me weary." He teases. 

~~~

The flight lasted around six hours and twenty minutes. Once the plane landed in Wilachia, we were both regretting our choices of formal wear. We walked out into the scorching sun beating down on us.

"I got the memo for clothing attire." Braxton says, as we look around for a taxi. I feel the eyes of others staring us down, as I hail down a taxi. Braxton keeps a cautious lookout behind me.

"These people act like we are famous."

"We're not dressed 'touristy' technically." I replied. A taxi finally pulls up. Braxton and I set the bags in the trunk. We make our way toward the backseat.

"Where to?" The taxi driver asks, he looks up into the rearview mirror at us. Braxton tells him the destination, as I stare out the window. I was slowly feeling the effects of being jet-lagged.

"What brings two foreigners here? Out of all the places in the world, why here?" The driver asks.

I turn away from the window, running my hand through my hair. I was attempting to toss some sort of excuse together. "Uh...we are-." I trail off. Braxton chimes in.

"We're honeymooners." He states, taking my left hand into his right hand. He gives it a quick squeeze, attempting to convince the driver of such a lie. I huddle closer into Braxton's side. If I was going to have to play the part of an anxious newlywed, then so be it."

"Does this beautiful bride have a name?" The driver asks.

"Rosalie-." I look out my window for anything to make a last name out of. Finally, my eyes land on a shop by the title of 'Jergens'

"Jergens."

"Dreamer." Braxton says, right at the same time I speak. The driver becomes confused.

"Sorry, the whole 'Mrs.' thing is all too new to me. My maiden name was Jergens, until I married Steven a few days ago. Now, it's Rosealie Dreamer."

"Wilachia is the perfect spot for a honeymoon destination." The driver assures us.

"We are hoping it lives up to its name." Braxton replies. Thank goodness we had arrived at our hotel now. At this point, neither him nor I could have played such a facade much longer. When the taxi stopped, I was quick to open the door. Braxton sets a hand on my shoulder, preventing me from doing the action. 

"What?" I ask. He leans into me, whispering in my ear. "I should be the one opening the door for you."

"Oh, no, this stops here."

"Not if you want things to go smoothly. I suggest you think of something." Braxton then clears his throat.

"Is everything alright back there?" The driver asks.

"Yeah, my wife's flip-flop strap just broke. It should be fine until we reach our room right, honey?" He asks, he pulls me close, kissing along my jawline.

"Don't start something you cannot finish." I tease, as I tuck the side of my face against his cheek. Some of my hair sweeps lazily in front of my face, creating what appears to be sexual tension between us. Braxton reaches into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet to pay the driver. He then releases his grip on me, stepping out of the taxi to retrieve our luggage, and open my door.

 I lean back into the taxi. "It was nice to meet you." I told the driver.

"Nice to meet you too, my name is Roscoe."

I shut the door to the cab and walked beside Braxton toward the hotel. We walked in silence all the way into the hotel. The front lobby was empty, no one was at the front desk. Chills went down my spine. I had seen way too many horror movies for this kind of situation to be happening.

Braxton taps the little bell sitting on the counter to get someone's attention. I saw this as the perfect opportunity to confront head on what was going on, so I turn toward Braxton.

"What the hell was that?" I ask him.

 "I had to think of something. We cannot just announce our reason for being here. Someone may know who we are, especially someone who does not need to know."

"Yeah, but why a married couple?"

"It will seem more believable. Besides, you were nervous by the minute back there in the taxi. I could not have our cover blown, not this far."

"Whatever you say there...Steven."

"What can I help you two with?" A lady asks, as she walks up to the front desk.

"I have a reservation for 'Dreamer'." Braxton replies. He quickly switches back into character as he speaks to the woman. She quickly types away on the little laptop in front of her.

"You're in suite 103. Here are your key cards and enjoy your stay." She says, cheerfully. I reach out, grabbing the keycards, thanking her as I do. I follow Braxton over to the nearby elevator.

 ~~~

A little green light flashes above the door, signaling I had access in the suite. I stepped inside with Braxton following after me, carrying our luggage in as he walked into the room. I start by walking around the suite, taking everything in. It was not long before I realized there was only one bedroom in the entire suite.

"Braxton!"

"Yeah?" I follow his voice into the living room. He sat in front of his open suitcase, going through it. I walk over to him with my arms crossed and a frown on my face.

"Why is there only one bed out of this entire suite?"

"Because it's a suite, a honeymoon suite at that."

 "Why could we not get separate beds, or even separate rooms?"

"Listen, Mallory, I know this is not what you expected, but Griggs and I hashed out a plan. We don't know what we're dealing with here. That is why our reservation is under a false name. I don't think we would be convincing enough to play just two random tourists."

I take it all in as he speaks. I was not up for this play-pretend lifestyle, but I also knew I would do anything to get this case solved. "So, you and Griggs made up a cover story? We're honeymooners. What else do I need to know?"

"Are you willing to go along with this?" He asked me.

"Yes, but only for the case."

"Great! Now that we are on the same page, you are a kindergarten teacher, I am an architect. We live in Los Angeles and in our pastime, I like to play golf as for you, well you have a book club. We can make up more as we go along."

"Since we are newlyweds, we best dress the part." I informed him.

"As in?"

"As in comfortable clothing, we can't go around dressed like detectives if we are swooning 'newlyweds'." I grab my suitcase, pulling out a palm tree print romper with some flip- flops. Satisfied, I walk into the adjoined master bathroom off the master bedroom suite, changing into my outfit.

I step out of the bathroom to see Braxton has changed into a pair of Khaki shorts, black t-shirt, with flip- flops. He gives me a small smile when he sees me. I casually just wave at him, walking past him out from the bedroom, into the hallway. He follows a few minutes later.

"Where do we start?" He asks.

"I was thinking we would mingle with the locals. We could hit the downtown area, going through shops and stuff. Newlyweds love to get a feel of where they stay."

"Good point, Mallory."