but pristine. I couldn’t see much besides fast-food wrappers, empty paper cups, CD cases and a paperback whose title I couldn’t make out. Somehow that the handsome man was a bit of a slob made me feel a little better.
As I moved around the car I discovered the Honda had a broken taillight and a dent in back on the left-hand side. Since I’d followed that car when we’d left the Russos’ place, I knew that dent hadn’t been there earlier. Though I hadn’t noticed his car there, I was guessing he’d been part of the accident in the parking lot at Legacy Village that had nearly caused me to lose Elaine. That meant he’d been following her, too, which didn’t make a bit of sense. What was the point if they’d been scheduled to meet here anyhow?
I didn’t like this, not even a little. I was feeling very edgy as I noted the time and took down the plate number before heading for the main entrance. Victor’s was nothing more than an upscale bar that showcased a baby-grand piano. This being a Monday night, there was no one at the keyboard. A player piano along the far wall was belting out an old rock-and-roll tune.
There were only a handful of customers inside and most of them were sitting at the bar itself. I nodded to the bartender, ignored the other stares and strode toward the back as if I knew where I was going. Turned out I did. The restrooms were back there and so was my quarry. They were sitting in a booth conveniently close to the ladies’ room. The man glanced my way as I strode past, but I didn’t look in their direction. I didn’t think he would recognize me. How could he?
Setting my camera down on a shelf, I washed my cuts in the cracked but surprisingly clean sink. I wanted to give the couple time to forget about me. The scratches were red and angry looking, not to mention painful, but they didn’t look infected and I figured they were my own fault. The cats had only been fighting for their freedom. I couldn’t blame them. After all, I was a stranger and only one of them was Mr. Sam.
By cracking open the bathroom door, I had an unobstructed view of the couple’s table. I was glad now that I’d gone to the expense of an infrared lens for my camera. A flash would have been a noticeable problem. As it was, I snapped several pictures of them with their heads together before striding back past them. It was probably my imagination, but I felt his eyes on my back all the way to the door.
There was an ATM on the corner of the building next door. I figured I had time to use it if I hurried. As it turned out, I hadn’t even needed to hurry. They took their time inside. I got several good shots of them coming out, still looking extremely cozy. The hunk helped her inside his car while I sprinted back to Binky.
Sam Two was sitting on top of Sam One’s box. I think he’d been trying to let the other cat out. Fortunately he hadn’t succeeded. He jumped over the backseat the minute he saw me coming. I scrambled inside and started the engine.
“Okay, guys, I’m really, really sorry. Honest. We’re on our way to a motel unless I miss my guess. Once I get there, I’ll see what I can do to make things better for you. I’ll scrounge up some water and give you something to eat, okay?”
From the grumbling, it was less than satisfactory. Guilt gnawed on me as we made our way onto the highway. I like animals—sometimes more than people. I didn’t want anything to happen to these little guys, even if I wasn’t a cat person.
Since I was worried about the hunk spotting a tail, I hung back as far as I dared. Once seen, Binky was somewhat unforgettable. I really was going to have to get him painted one of these days, even if I had to buy a spray can and do it myself.
It wasn’t until the Honda headed for the Ohio Turnpike that I got worried. Were they running away together? Not that I blamed Elaine, mind you. Sexy young hunk versus balding old man with scary eyes wasn’t even a toss-up in my book. Heck, I’d be tempted to take off with the hunk, too, and I didn’t even have to go home to someone like Albert Russo. The problem was I couldn’t follow them forever. Binky wasn’t used to traveling any distance or at speeds over forty miles per hour. I had no idea what his top speed was, but I knew it wouldn’t be much before he blew something critical.
Not so the Honda. I got on the turnpike with extreme misgivings and had all I could do to keep the other car in sight. The hunk drove as if he didn’t have a second to spare.
Sweat was dribbling down my face and it had little to do with the temperature, which was cooling off even more as night claimed the sky. Getting on the turnpike for a simple tryst seemed a bit extreme.
Where the devil were they going?
If they were running away together, I was in deep trouble. After a while Binky’s oil light began flashing intermittently. Binky craves oil the way I crave diet soda, and I was pretty sure I didn’t have a can of either one in the trunk. If he broke down out here, I was in for it. Time to turn around.
Unfortunately I’d run out of exits by the time I firmly came to that decision. We’d come to the end of the Ohio Turnpike and I spotted the Honda near the head of the line to pay their toll.
I snapped a couple of quick pictures as I waited to one side of them, much farther back in my own line. As they went through, heading into Pennsylvania, I debated my options. The next exit was Beaver Falls. I had no choice. I’d have to turn around there and stop for oil so I could make it home. Even Albert Russo couldn’t expect me to follow them clear across Pennsylvania.
Could he?
Probably, I decided fatalistically, but that was too bad. He should have hired someone else. I had Binky and two cats to think about—not to mention forty-three dollars minus the toll left in my wallet.
To my surprise, the Honda turned off at Beaver Falls. I urged Binky to close the distance, hoping he wouldn’t blow a gasket or something even worse. My curiosity was going nuts, especially when they pulled into a jazzy-looking motel unit right off the highway. This was just too bizarre. They’d driven all the way into Pennsylvania for a quickie? What was wrong with the motels in Ohio? Admittedly this place looked brand new, but even so, traveling all this way for a little slap and tickle made no sense.
The hunk was inside getting registered when I pulled up with my camera and found a strategic place to park. I got some quality shots of the two of them in front of the motel, then going inside a room. Mr. Russo was going to be extremely pleased with the pictures, if not their content. He’d probably like a few more intimate shots, but I draw the line at voyeurism, even if I could have seen in around the heavy drape they pulled across the window.
It was a safe bet they’d be busy for the next half hour or so. I made a note of the time, left the car and the now silent cats and walked to the gas station on the corner for a can of oil for Binky, some water for the cats and a candy bar and a can of diet soda for me. I ate the candy on my way back and wished I’d bought more than one. I was starving.
Having dated a mechanic off and on, I’d learned more than I ever wanted to know about car engines. Replenishing the oil was child’s play. Except that sometime during my ministrations apparently my quarry split.
I couldn’t believe it. When I closed the hood and glanced over at their parking space, the Honda was gone and the room was dark. I looked at my watch and blinked. Good grief. He might look like a hunk, but he was definitely no stud.
Maybe they’d gone out for something to eat to recharge. Except that Elaine had just finished a full-course meal including dessert. As I hurried to the driver’s side and got in, I wondered if they’d had a fight and changed their minds. That’s when I realized I had a second problem. Sam One had escaped.
Oh, he was still in the car—unless he’d been able to squeeze himself through one of the
