To Leap From Heaven [A Romantic Thriller]

33.

The sun sat high when Catherine woke up the next morning. She did not know what time it was because she did not have a watch or a phone. She rose, washed her face, rinsed her mouth, stuffed cash in both pockets, picked up her notebook, and locked the door behind her.

“Well, well, I see Madonna slept late. I hope the concert wasn't too tiring. Those teenyboppers can really drain a person,” the fat woman said as Catherine entered the front door. “Besides, you owe me a day's rent. Checkout was at eleven. I'm sure that won't be a problem for a big popstar like yourself.”

The fat woman was in a jovial mood, and her eyes twinkled while mocking  Catherine. She had shown her husband the amount of money Catherine paid for one night, and he had congratulated her on her cunning and business acumen. That night the woman had the best sex she's had in a long time. That was perhaps the reason for her good mood and light step. She looked forward to fleecing Catherine out of another bundle of those delicious dollars. She hoped it would put the Mister in another frisky mood, and who knows what might happen?

Catherine ignored the obvious sarcasm. She was in no mood for frivolous banter.

“I know, and I don't mind paying, but first, tell me, have you seen this man?”

She took out her notebook and showed her Carl's picture. The fat woman recognized him, and her mind calculated how much the information would be worth, because she was not about to give it away for free. The Mister would be happy with her, and she already anticipated another night of ecstasy. She wondered what she should wear, or maybe she should buy herself some sexy underwear. That would be the cherry on top.

“What if I have?” she asked in a cautious voice.

Catherine studied her, and by the tone of her voice, and the look on her face, she was convinced she had seen Carl. She took money from her pocket and placed it on the counter. The woman wondered how much money prostitutes actually make, but the thought passed quickly, as her negotiating skills kicked in.

Catherine's hand rested firmly on the money. She wasn't about to let go, not until she had had positive identification. She knew the woman for the greedy type, and she was fishing for more.

“You mean, Elvis? Yes, I've seen him.”

“Where can I find him?”

“Ground floor on your left. Last door. Room fifty-two.”

“Are you sure it's him?”

“I don't forget a face, especially not one like that.” She gave a snort of disapproval.

“And he goes by the name of Elvis?”

“Yes.”

“I must congratulate your good establishment of being frequented by the royalty of entertainment. First Elvis, and now Madonna.” Catherine couldn't resist the opportunity to get her own back. She turned serious when she asked, “Do you know if he's in?”

“He should be. Last night he phoned and asked for painkillers. He asked that I should drop it at his door and leave. I did as I was told, and added it to his bill. He sounded as if he was in a lot of pain, but I'm not one to stick my nose into other people's business. I keep a clean motel, and I avoid trouble with the police. There was never once a raid on this place, and should they come now, they won't find a single thing out of order.”

Catherine watched her as she rambled. Her confident attitude had changed to nervous agitation. She clasped and unclasped her hands, and instead of leaning on the counter, she stood up straight. “And, I don't want any trouble now, or in the future. I cannot lose my operating license, and I cannot afford to lose this place. It's our only livelihood, and we're scraping by as it is.”

Her eyes kept darting to the money, and she wished Catherine would stop asking so many questions and hand it over. Someone might walk in at any moment, and see it, and she could do without prying eyes.

“I need your extra key for his room.” There was a command in Catherine's voice, and the fat woman heard a veiled threat.

“We don't usually…” she began. Her voice was hesitant, almost as if she was fishing for more money.

Catherine pulled more cash out of her other pocket and added it to an already large sum.

“That should take care of my room, the key, and for keeping your trap shut.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Catherine released the money, and it disappeared under the counter. The fat woman reached behind her, removed a key from its hook, and handed it to Catherine.

“Thanks. I won't be long. I'll return both before nightfall.”

“Take your time,” the woman answered.

She gave a sigh of relief. Although pretty, she did not like Catherine's face, because it was too hard, and she did not like pretty prostitutes with hard faces.

“That's what happens to pretty girls who spend too long a time on the streets. I feel sorry for that man she's going to. Maybe he did not pay her, or maybe he roughed her up. She looks like the kind of girl who means business. Yep, those cookies are tough, and I wouldn't want to cross swords with them. No, not me,” she grumbled under her breath.

Her eyes fell on the cash, and she stealthily took it, and placed it in the front pocket of her apron. She handled it with the tender care one would bestow on an infant or a lover. She slipped quietly to the backroom where she locked it away in the safe. She tucked the key into her bosom, and patted her large breasts provocatively. The fat woman leaned her arms back on the counter. Catherine was soon forgotten, and she dreamt of what could happen that night between the sheets. She couldn't wait for her shift to end.

-•-

What a stroke of good luck, Catherine thought as she closed her door behind her. She did not expect to find Carl so soon, let alone in the same motel. While talking to the woman she did not betray any emotion, but now that the hour was at hand, she was literally shaking. A wave of nausea overtook her, and she ran to the bathroom and puked down the toilet. She cleaned herself up, and to her image in the mirror she said, “Now is not the time.”

Catherine took the firearm from her bag and tucked it under her overcoat. There was no one around and she walked confidently to Carl's room. She quietly inserted the key into the lock, and turned it very very slowly until it was unlocked.

With one twist of the handle she opened the door, and jumped into the room with the firearm pointing from a straight arm, and steady hand. She was ready to shoot to kill anything and anyone who moved.

-•-

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