'This time I want to see the room,' she says.
At the pool, I spot the same woman and kids who were hanging around when I visited two weeks ago. The woman's wearing the same yellow bikini and sunning herself on the same orange strap chaise and the kids are splashing around the shallow end as before.
As we walk into the courtyard the woman looks up, pulls off her sunglasses, is about to speak, then apparently recognizes me and settles back.
'She's the owner-manager,' I whisper to Pam. 'Her dad ran the place at the time of the killings. When I came by before, she gave me the once-over like I was some kind of ghoulish crime buff come to jerk off in the murder room.'
'Well, you are ghoulish,' Pam says.
Johnny Powell's on duty in the office, and, just as before, his geezer's eyes are riveted to a baseball game on the lobby TV.
'Howdy,' he says, looking p. 'I figured you'd be back.'
'Johnny, this is Pam Wells.'
'Howdy, Pam. Here to check out old two-oh-one?'
When I nod, he slaps the key down on the counter. Then he looks at me and squints. 'Someone's been around asking about you, Mr. Weiss.'
Pam and I exchange a look.
'Who?'
A fella. Didn't give his name. Seemed like a cop, but didn't show me a badge or nothin’.'
'What did he want?'
'Asked whether I'd seen you. Said your name then showed me your picture. When I shrugged, he flashed the inside of his palm to show me a folded fifty-dollar bill. Being in the motel business, I know better than to talk about other people's business. I told him I didn't know fifty bucks worth of nothin’ and to please leave me alone so I could do my work.'
'Then what?'
'He smiled like he understood it was going to take more than fifty to open me up. Then he irked me, started calling me ‘old-timer,’ like ‘He went to 201, didn't he, old-timer? Asked a lot of questions about the old days? Yeah, I figured that. What I want to know is what kinda questions and now much time did he spend up there in the room?’'
'That's an odd thing to ask.'
'I thought so. When I told him to get lost, he winked at me like he was onto me somehow. ‘You'll talk to me yet, old-timer,’ he said. Then he turned and shuffled out.'
I thank Johnny for keeping my confidence, tip him fifty bucks to make up for what he lost on my account, and ask him to please call me if the nosy guy comes around again.
I feel Ms. Evans's eyes on us as we move across the courtyard. When we're up on the balcony, I glance down. She got her dark glasses back on, but I can tell she's still watching. She smiles slightly and I smile back.
Pam unlocks the door, hesitates, ten walks in. I glance back at Ms. Evans. Though I can't read her eyes, I sense the intensity of her gaze by the set of her mouth and the erect position of her head. She sits still as if interested to observe what I'll do next, whether I'll enter swiftly or with trepidation. There's a moment between us as if each is daring the other to look away, broken by the shrill cry of one of her kids.
'Hey, Mom! Watch this!' the smaller boy shouts, taking a running cannonball leap into the middle of the pool.
I find Pam inside seated on the bed.
After a long silence, she ventures an opinion. 'It's just so ordinary.' She glances at me. 'Or is it, David? Do you feel something weird?'
'I did before, probably because I was alone and I'd done a lot of imagining about this room. I think I'll leave you here a while, give you a chance to take in the vibes.'
Pam nods, then starts studying her reflection in the big mirror above the dresser. I quietly slip out, close the door, then lean over the exterior balcony. Ms. Evans, sensing my presence again, looks up at me from her chaise. Again I meet her sunglass-shielded eyes.
Obviously something's on her mind. I nod to her, move quickly to the staircase, descend, then stride over to where she's lying. To my surprise, she doesn't react or sit up, rather continues to lie back as if expecting the intrusion.
'Pardon me – I'm David Weiss,' I tell her, crouching beside her, extending my hand.
'I know. I'm Kate Evans.'
We shake, then she invites me to sit on the adjacent chaise.
'I couldn't help but notice you've been checking me out.'
She smiles slightly. 'The other day I asked Johnny who you were. It's been years since anyone asked to see the murder room.'
She reaches into her pool bag, pulls out a pack of L amp;Ms and an elegant, thin, gold lighter. She takes her time lighting up, inhales deeply, then exhales in long, steady plume that hangs like the exhaust trail of a jet in the still, humid air.
'I saw him, you know -the man who did the shooting, saw him clear for a second or two. Then for a long time I saw him in my dreams, not every night or anything like that – maybe two, three times a year for… six, seven years. Scary dreams.' She exhales again. 'Kinda dreams you wish you could forget.'
She points to her boys. 'Me and another kid were playing here, splashing around like them. then suddenly – BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!' She smiles, takes another long drag from her cigarette, then crushes it out against the concrete beneath her chaise. 'He came running down the stairs, then he saw us. That's when our eyes met.' She smiles slightly again. 'It was like… we locked. Then he scooted off under the archway and out into the street. I told the cops I saw him. They were nice, asked me to describe him. I did, but then they never showed me any suspect pictures or anything like that.'
I feel a surge of excitement bolting through my body.
She saw the shooter! Even after twenty-six years she remembers his face, saw it in her dreams.
'I'm a forensic artist,' I tell her casually, though my mind's racing and my heart's thumping away.
'So Johnny said. He said you've been making drawings at the Foster trial.'
'Following the case?'
Kate shrugs. 'Doesn't interest me much. But I did watch ABC a couple nights just to see your work. Pretty good. Made me feel like I was there.'
'Eyewitness drawings are my specialty,' I tell her. 'The courtroom work's a sideline.'
She nods politely.
'Would you be willing to work with me on a sketch of the Flamingo shooter?'
She shrugs, again shows her restrained half-smile. 'It's been such a long while.'
Though my heart's still pounding, I try my best to appear cool. Having stumbled into this one-in-a-million opportunity, I warn myself not to blow it.
'Your girlfriend's watching us.' She says the words so softly that for a moment I don't react. Then I glance up to find Pam leaning over the balcony gazing down at us, curious.
'Hi!' I wave to her.
Pam hesitates, then unenthusiastically waves back.
I introduce them. 'Pam – this is Kate. Pam's a reporter for CNN,' I tell Kate. 'Kate owns the joint,' I call up to Pam.
Kate calls up to her. 'Wanna swim? I can loan you guys suits.'
Her offer seems to melt Pam's frost. 'Great kids,' she says, indicating Kate's boys. Then she starts toward the stairs.
Kate turns to me. She speaks very softly but with an intensity she hasn't used before.
'Call me in a couple days. If I decide to work with you, it'd be just the two of us, okay?'
