much do I owe you?” she asked. “I want to keep track.”
“Rooms are eighty-nine bucks a night. You’re in number fourteen. Second floor, two doors from the end.”
“Perfect.”
“How’s the head?” he asked.
“Still hurts,” she said honestly.
“Nauseous?” he asked.
She actually felt better than she had a half hour earlier. “No.”
“Your pupils look normal,” he said. “Which hopefully means that you don’t have a concussion. But I’m still worried about that. You’re sure that you’re going to be able to call someone to help you?”
“Absolutely,” she lied.
He drove the SUV to the corner of the building where her room was located and put the car in Park. He reached into the backseat and pulled out another pair of thick white socks. “Your feet are going to get wet walking in. Take these so you have something dry to change into.”
He was a really nice guy. “Can I have your address?” she asked. “To mail you a check. For the hotel, and these,” she said, waving at the clothes he’d given her.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Pay it forward someday.”
That was a nice idea. “Well,” she said. It was crazy but she didn’t like the idea of getting out of the car. She felt as if something bad was about to happen. But this man had done enough for her. There was nothing to be gained from stalling.
“Thank you,” she said. She extended her hand.
There was a slight pause before he reached out and very formally shook her hand. His index finger had a callus and she resisted the urge to rub the pad of her thumb against it. “Good luck,” he said.
She swallowed hard. Some good luck would be nice. She opened the door and got out. She went to close the door.
“Hey,” he said. He pointed to the backseat. “Don’t forget this.”
Her wedding dress. She grabbed it and the horrible veil that had hurt her head and wadded them under her arm. She ran up the exterior staircase and inserted her key into the door. It opened. She turned.
He was still there. Watching.
She waved.
He nodded and pulled out of the parking spot.
She went inside, feeling strangely sad. She should be happy to be free of the man. She needed time to figure out what to do next and she needed to be totally focused. That would have been difficult if Cal Hollister had stuck around.
She sat down on the ugly green-and-gold bedspread and stared at the tan carpet. What the hell was she going to do?
* * *
CAL’S FRONT FENDER was edging out of the lot when he decided that he might be a fool but he didn’t intend to be a hungry one. He still had the pie that he’d tossed into his backseat but it wouldn’t hurt to have a backup supply of candy bars, chips and red licorice, his favorite, if he did happen to get stuck. And the hotel vending machine was probably his best bet.
He backed up, parked his SUV and went inside. The desk clerk, phone still in hand, looked up. Cal waved at him and pointed his index finger at the vending machine in the alcove off to the side. The kid smiled back. When Cal saw the prices, he realized the kid was probably laughing at him, not with him. It was practically highway robbery. But he started feeding in his dollar bills.
Stormy had seemed a little reluctant to get out of the car. And he’d had the craziest urge to want to keep talking to her. Maybe they could have traded baseball trivia. She’d surprised him with that one. Her eyes had lit up and he’d gotten a glimpse of what her face would look like without fatigue and cold clouding it.
He’d felt an attraction to her. And that, ultimately, had been what had kept him from chatting it up in the car. She was either someone’s fiancée or someone’s wife. Off-limits.
Just two years ago, he’d had to pick up the pieces when his best friend on the team had gotten a Dear Leo letter. Leo’s wife had met someone and had filed divorce papers. Leo had gone a little crazy and Cal had been seriously worried that the man was going to make a mistake that could take the whole team down.
He didn’t ever want to be in the middle of something like that. So he’d said goodbye to Stormy and accepted that how she came to be in that snowdrift, in her wedding gown, was going to be one of life’s unanswered mysteries. When he’d checked in, he’d verified that there were phones in the room. Hopefully, by now she’d made her calls and help was either on the way or, at the very least, relieved to hear that she was okay.
He had just pressed the last button when the door opened. Two men, both wearing long black coats and dark pants, came in. The taller man had an ugly scar, running from the corner of his eye to halfway down his cheek.
Both men gave Cal a cursory look but focused on the desk clerk. “We are looking for our cousin,” the taller one said. His tone was low, almost guttural, and he’d turned his back to Cal. But Cal, who had always had excellent hearing, didn’t have any trouble making out the words. The guy had a slight accent, clipping the end of his words, rolling his r’s just a little. Maybe Russian.
The man held out his smartphone so that the clerk could see something on the screen.
“Pretty bride,” the clerk said.
“Yes, very beautiful,” the tall man said. “Have you seen her?”
Cal casually reached into his pocket and fed in another dollar. Took his time considering his choices.
“Nope,” said the clerk. “I’d have remembered her if she’d checked in,” he added with the exuberance of a horny young male.
The two men looked at each other. They were frustrated. Trying to hide it but not doing a great job.
“It is very important that we find her,” said the shorter one. “She would have arrived within the last hour.”
The desk clerk nodded. “Sorry I can’t help. I’m the only one here. If she’d have rented a room, I’d know it. There are a couple motels down the road another ten or fifteen miles. You may want to try there.”
The two men nodded and walked out the door. The shorter one had a stiff left leg, swinging it from the hip, rather than bending it at the knee. Cal grabbed his purchases and stepped back into the main office. Glanced out the window. They were driving a black Mercedes. They pulled out, headed east.
Cal held up his bag of chips. “My favorite,” he said. “Should get me through the night.”
The clerk shrugged and picked up his phone.
Cal pulled up the collar of his coat, opened the door and walked back to his vehicle. Once inside, he started it and flipped on the wipers to clear the windshield of snow.
Pretty bride.
