from Zephyrhills. 1818 North 18th St.,” she read Sharon’s new address on the card. Sharon just smiled and reached for the key. “I’ll pay you now because I don’t know how early I’ll leave.”
Stupid, Sharon, you’re stupid. Why didn’t I give my parents’ address in Fort Lauderdale? Oh, well. It’s too late now. At least I took my maiden name back. She reached for the door to go out.
“It’s room five and you can git ice from the machine there in the hall outside this office,” the woman called belatedly.
Sharon smiled and thanked her as she went out the door. She got in her car and drove about sixty feet to the left, then turned to back against the curb. Getting out of the car she was thinking how tired she felt and how thankful she would be to get to Zephyrhills the next day. She walked to the back intending to get an overnight bag out of the trunk. One foot raised to step on the curb, she grunted in pain as she felt the sidewalk slam against the right side of her head and her right knee plowed into the side of the curb.
“Oh, great! Are you hurt? I crashed into you. Can you move? I’m sure sorry.” A deep, contrite voice spoke somewhere above her head.
“Ooo. I’m going to have a doozy of a headache. Ouch! My knee. What happened? I was minding my own business and innocently going to my room, then this --. What else is going to happen to me?”
“Come on, idiot!”
Sharon was startled when another man’s voice barked angrily nearby. Through blurred vision she could only see dark shapes. The light from the open door behind the man kept her from seeing clearly.
“Let me help you up.” A hand reached down to her. What an odd ring. A coiled snake with ruby eyes and it looks to be solid gold.
“Thank you.” She put her hand in his and struggled to her feet. Hearing the second man cursing loudly, the man, who had helped her to her feet, dropped her hand and ran across the parking area. She saw him open the door of the car and jump in as it took off.
Turning north, the car sped into the darkness.
Sharon limped gingerly to the trunk and got an overnight bag, then hobbled to the door of room five. Unlocking the door, and stepping inside, she drew a relieved breath and turned on the lights.
What else is going to happen? All I need now is for a building to fall on me. Shut your mouth, Sharon. With your luck that’s the next thing that will occur. What’s that old saying? Oh, yes, ‘if I didn’t have bad luck I wouldn’t have any luck at all’. No. I won’t allow myself to sink into despair. I did ask God to help me and I believe that He’ll help me every way that I need. She took a deep, shuddering breath and gave herself a mental shake.
Limping and feeling slightly nauseated, Sharon went to get a bucket of ice and two Diet Cokes then hobbled painfully back to the room. She put ice in a glass and poured one can of coke over the ice, drinking it with two aspirin.
After a warm, relaxing shower, she dressed in lime green silk pajamas. She brushed her teeth and slipped into bed. The remote control was handy for her to turn on the television, select a movie, set the sleep timer and settle down. She ate some of the snacks her friends had given her and slowly began to feel more comfortable.
Sharon appreciated the soft bed that helped her to relax. Before slipping down against the pillows, she glanced in the horizontal mirror over the long dresser. Seeing her red, swollen cheek, she chuckled aloud. “Beautiful. No wonder the man ran from you, Sharon ole gal.”
Giggling to herself, in spite of her aches and pains, she snuggled down to enjoy the movie. In a short time she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep letting the sleep timer turn the television off.
Sharon groaned and slowly opened her eyes to an irritating noise. Her head hurt and she ached all over. There was that noise again. Wha -- is someone knocking at my door?
“What is it?” she snapped.
“Police. Open up. We need to talk to you.”
She groaned again and dragged her aching body out of bed. Slipping on a peignoir matching her pajamas, and fighting to wake up, she hobbled to the door. Jerking the door open only as far as the chain would allow, she asked irritably, “What do you want? I was sound asleep.”
“Good morning.” A man smiled and touched two fingers to the brim of a western hat. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need some information. It’s vitally important that we talk.” He showed a badge and a card identifying him as Lt. Larry Dauber, Police Detective as he introduced himself. “May I come in or would you rather come out here?”
Sharon hesitated. “I’ll dress as quickly as I can and I’ll be out.” Shutting the door firmly, she turned and limped to the luggage to get clean clothing. After a quick shower, she dressed in a peach-colored shorts and shirt set, then slipped her feet into cream-colored leather moccasins.
The bright sun made her squint as she stepped on the hot sidewalk. “Excuse me a moment. I’m going back for my sunglasses.” She went back into the room for her glasses and came out to stand quietly in front of Lieutenant Dauber. Uniformed police stood around with a short, thin man whom she recognized as the man in the office. His wife was beside him with a few curious bystanders.
I don’t know what I really expected, but not this. She looked up with surprise when Lt. Dauber took a step closer. He stood at least six three. His dark brown hair came to the top of his collar and gray eyes seemed to look right through her. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing aloud when she looked at his neatly trimmed mustache and thought of Zorro.
“Miss Donnelly, I’m sorry to awaken you in this manner, but we do have a major concern.” She crossed her arms over her chest and just looked straight at him. She could not think of any way she would be involved in a major concern of his. “Do you know, or have you heard of, a man by the name of Arnold Millhouse?”
“No. The name is not familiar. If I ever met him, I don’t remember him, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him.”
“Did you see anyone around room four, the room to the left of your room, when you came in last night?”
She frowned. “I didn’t exactly see anyone, but I know someone was near there.”
“Who was it?” snapped the man from the office aggressively.
“Mr. Morrison. Please allow me to ask the questions.” Lt. Dauber glared at him and spoke firmly.
“Can you describe who you saw?”
“Not really.” she answered truthfully.
“Maybe she’s in on it,” snarled Morrison.
“Mr. Morrison,” Lt. Dauber spoke with disgust in his voice, “remain silent or go back to the office with a policeman and wait for me there.”
“Herman,” his wife said softly and reached for his arm. He mumbled and jerked away from her but did stay quiet. His beady, black eyes stayed on Sharon.
“Can you tell me what, or whom, you did see?” Lt. Dauber questioned Sharon.
Sharon explained what happened when the man bumped into her and how he left. “I can’t prove the men had been in room four, only that the
