he didn’t. He followed.
“ No alarm,” she said, panting and staring at the cleaner’s back door, “and no bars on the windows.”
It figured, he thought. Who in their right mind would break into a laundry and dry cleaners in a small town. Can’t wear anybody else’s clothes, because not only does everybody know everybody else, but everybody knows everybody’s clothes as well.
Centered in the top half of the back door was a screen covered sliding window. The screen was weatherbeaten, rusty and worn. It came apart in her hands. She lifted the window, it wasn’t locked. She reached in and unlocked the door from the inside. Not even a dead bolt. Just a simple lock.
“ Come on,” she whispered as she opened the door and went in.
He followed her inside, closing and locking the door after himself. Then the dark room started blinking on and off with the red glowing light coming through the front window from the flashing lights of the police cruiser that pulled up and parked out front.
“ Down!” he said, and they dropped to the floor, hiding behind the counter.
“ It’s that Explorer from earlier.” A not very friendly voice from outside said.
“ What’s it doing here?” A less friendlier voice answered.
“ Dunno.”
“ God that girl was something else, wasn’t she?”
“ She was, did you get a look at the other one?”
“ Couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but I’m thinking it was a girl.”
“ Give me a break.”
“ Coulda been.”
“ Well, we got ’em now. Where do you suppose they are?”
“ Dunno.”
“ Think they’re robbing the town?”
“ Get serious J.D. If you stole all the money in every store on this street, you might could buy a cup of coffee, if you was lucky. No, more ’an likely they’re meeting someone here in one a the homes next street over. Selling drugs, I’d guess.”
“ Then why park here?”
“ So the car won’t be right in front of the house, stupid.”
“ Oh.”
“ Sometimes I wonder about you, J.D.”
“ What’re we gonna do Mike? Wait till they come back?”
“ No, dummy, wait here. I’m gonna go and call Jeb down to the Mobil and have him tow that Explorer outta here. Ain’t no way them babes are gonna get outta this town on foot. We’ll get ’em all right.”
“ But, Mike, we don’t know for sure they done anything wrong.”
“ Anytime someone sneaks into town in the middle of the night, they’re doing something wrong.”
Jim and Glenna lay side by side on the floor, suffocating in the silence and the smell of manure. An hour later they heard the sounds of a tow truck as it pulled into the parking lot next door. It hooked up to the rented Explorer and towed it away. The police car followed, leaving them basking in the black night, huddled behind the counter, taking shallow breaths and wondering what to do next.
“ I’m going to call my father,” Glenna said after they’d gone, “and let him know I’m okay.” She pulled the phone off the counter and sat on the floor.
“ I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He sat next to her.
“ Relax, I won’t tell him where we are. I just want to let him know that I’m okay, so he doesn’t worry.”
She called information, got the number for the Harris Ranch Inn, then called it.
“ Can I have Hugh Washington’s room please?” she said in a pleasant voice. “Just a second,” she said, after a pause. She cupped her hand over the phone and said to Jim, “He’s not there. Must still be tied up with the local cops. They want to know if I want to leave a message. I want my father to know I’m with you, but I don’t want to mention your name.”
“ Say you’re playing Monopoly with a friend.”
“ I don’t understand?”
“ Your father will.”
She removed her hand from the mouthpiece.
“ This is his daughter, remember me? Please tell him I went out to play Monopoly with a friend and that I’m okay.” Then she hung up.
“ That cop was right about one thing,” Glenna said in a weak whisper. “Ain’t no way we can walk out of here without getting caught.” Then she shut up as the flashing lights went by and she stifled a scream as something ran across her bare arm in the dark.
Chapter Eleven
Hugh Washington lumbered through the lobby with sagging shoulders and hooded eyes. Only four hours ago the log cabin motif and big game trophies conspired to make him feel at ease, comfortable. He didn’t feel that way now.
He was drained and needed rest. He was almost to the other side of the big room when the red headed kid with the green eyes called out to him.
“ Sir, Mr. Washington. I have a phone message from your daughter. You just missed her.”
“ What?” He swept the cobwebs from his head. Glenna was supposed to be in her room, asleep, not on the other end of the phone. He steeled himself.
“ She said not to worry about her, she’s playing Monopoly with a friend.”
“ She say where she was?”
“ No, sir.”
“ She sound like she was okay?”
“ She sounded fine. She asked if I remembered her. I told her I did and then she gave me the message. Is everything all right?”
“ Yeah, thanks. She didn’t say when she’d be back?”
“ No, sir.”
“ Okay, thanks again.” He continued his trek through the lobby and went straight to his room, his mind working on the possibilities. Either Monday kidnapped her and she was in extreme danger, or somehow she ran across him and went with him on her own accord.
He voted for her going on her own accord. She had disguised her message so that anyone else, the clerk or the local police, for example, would accept it at face value, but anyone who knew about Jim Monday’s wartime nickname would see the real message buried beneath. She was with Monopoly Jim Monday. Christ, what did she think she was up to?
And what about Monday’s sister-in-law? And the Lambert woman? Whose blood was splashed all over that room? So much blood. When he called the locals he was convinced they were dead. Some cult group had done them in, drained their blood and splashed it around the room, but he calmed down after the police arrived and let his training take over. The room was covered in blood. It was torn apart. The furniture was broken and ripped. It looked bad, but there were no bodies. So for now, no bodies meant no murders.
They could be alive, though he doubted it. He thought Edna Lambert and Roma Barnes were dead. He thought it was their blood on the walls and he thought Jim Monday might possibly know who killed them. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Monday was the killer everybody seemed to think he was. The thought was unbearable, especially now that Glenna was with him.
But even if Monday wasn’t responsible, he had to find him pronto. People around him had a nasty habit of winding up dead. Either way, guilty or innocent, Glenna was in danger.
He went to the nightstand where he’d left his keys and cringed. They were gone. He swept the room with his eyes, no keys. He started for the door, but was stopped by the ringing of the phone. He turned, lunging for the
